Page 30 of Gorgeous Nightmare

I need to see her.

I have to make sure she’s okay.

The Potion Press isn’t far, I remind myself. It only takes me about ten minutes before I’m hauling myself through the door, like another one of their coffee addicted zombie customers.

The bell chimes overhead, signaling my arrival.

I look around the cafe. All the normal things catch my eye. Display cases full of pastries, an assortment of crystals, tinctures, candles lining the wall, and the half-crooked sign that saysWe Serve Potions & Coffee, Pick Your Poison.

Except she’s not here.

Sheshouldbe here.

She had the early shift.

She’s supposed to behere.

My hands curl into fists at my side.

Where the fuck is she?

CHAPTER 30

Aisling

Everything hurts.

My head, my body–every part of me feels like it’s on fire. And I just want the ringing in my ears to stop.

Fuck.

I open my eyes and am immediately blinded by the harsh fluorescent lights hanging above me. The walls are smooth, concrete painted over in that hospital white color. Not a stain or crack in sight, it all looks too perfect, too pristine.Too intentional.

I take a deep breath in, and my stomach turns.

It smells like bleach.

So fucking much of it that I swear I’m losing my sense of smell.

It’s the kind of clean that doesn't feel safe.

One side of the room is blocked off by those sliding curtains like they have in the hospitals, hiding something.

Cabinets line the far wall, filled with who-knows-what, and a stainless steel table near it. Clamps, knives, scalpels. Torture instruments of all kinds line the cold metal, glaring back at me.

I try to stand, but my body doesn’t respond. It’s heavy, unattached–there’s probably some kind of drug running through my veins right now.

Not to mention the fucking chair that I’m strapped down to, bound so tight that it’s creating a hot irritation around my wrists and ankles.

Looking around once more, I spot a small camera blinking in the corner.

Watching.

Remembering isn’t easy right now, like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The last thing I recalled was walking to my apartment, I was about to step onto my street when someone came up behind me.

I tried to scream, but their hand covered my mouth, a rag coated in what I think was chloroform. And then it all goes dark.

Now I’m here.

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