Page 2 of Dead Wrong

A sputter in my newly beating heart and the light behind my eyelids dimmed. The tension in my aching limbs released, pain withdrawing slowly as a pleasant numbness took hold.

That was better. I wanted to sink back into the comforting darkness, away from that persistent voice and its tortuous tone.

“Tobias? Tobias, can you hear me?”

The voice was getting farther away. Or perhaps I was. Either way, I was relieved at the slowing of the alien beating in my chest. I much preferred the stillness. The quiet. The comfort of weighted shadow as it began to settle over me once again, squeezing the air from my lungs.

“What’s happening?”

The other voice was distant, too. A tweeting songbird, miles away.

It wouldn’t be long. Sweet oblivion would soon take hold. I just had to make it through a few more moments of misery.

“—allowed to die, you son-of-a-bitch.”

A pressure on my chest, but it wasn’t as sharp as before. The numbness was close to completing its task. Soon, all that would be left was blissful nothingness.

“—working. Step back. I said step back!”

White-hot light filled my senses, sending shockwaves of pain through my body as every muscle contracted. My eyes sprang open, blinding brightness searing them. The smell of ozone filled my nostrils as the convulsion ceased, my heavy limbs falling still as the horrid beating of my heart assaulted my ears, louder than ever.

“Oh good, his eyes are open.” The staccato of heels clacking against smooth flooring assaulted my ears, then it spoke again, “I was starting to doubt you, handsome. Glad to see you’re not all talk.”

Blurred shadows moved against the background of searing light. Over the constant thumping of my own anatomy, other noises began to bombard me from all directions. The hum of electrical lights overhead, the rush of air from vents, the drumming of footsteps against wooden floorboards. They all felt like spikes jabbing into my skull.

“Can you hear me?”

The familiar voice wasn’t as sharp on my senses. It didn’t assault me like the clacking noise coming from the opposite direction. My head lulled to the side, moving slowly to catch a glimpse of whomever was speaking. But my eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light, and all I could make out was the vague outline of a broad face.

“Blink twice for yes, once for no. Can you hear me?”

I blinked once, then again.

“Good,” the tenor cajoled. “Focus on the sound of my voice. I need you to take a deep breath for me.”

I inhaled, lungs expanding to the point of bursting.

“Great, he’s breathing,” the unpleasantly sharp voice stated. “Can you speed this up, please? We’re losing precious time.”

“No,” the tenor answered flatly.

I exhaled, the edges of my vision sharpening. Sunlight streaked in from windows opposite me, casting a large pool of gold light across the dark wooden floors. Exposed beams of wood ran along the ceiling overhead, and standing on the edge of an ornate rug, leaning against the arm of a plush-looking leather sofa, a woman with honeyed curls down to her shoulders watched me, her arms neatly folded over her navel.

“I don’t have to remind you what’s at stake here, Bastien,” said the woman, her full lips drawn into a pout.

My freshly beating heart skipped at the mention of the name, then?—

It burst through my mind like a dam rupturing, memories rushing in to fill the void left behind by the expansive darkness, too quick to make sense of:A bristly blanket atop a hill of crimson flowers bobbing in a gentle breeze. A moonlit stroll along a river of starlight. Soft fingertips pressed into the most sensitive parts of melanated flesh?—

“Look at me.”

Warm hands cupped my face, steering me till I found a pair of golden eyes. I knew those eyes.

Bastien.

The name rippled through me, driving heat through my aching limbs.

“Keep breathing.”

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