Page 53 of Pride
“And let me guess, you think that’s what this is? Me getting ill from a bit of rain. Or at least, that’s the story you’re going with to save your fucking ass.” I huffed, sneering at him as I shook my head. “I didn’t pass out and end up in this fucking bed over a bit of rain. You did this on purpose.”
Alex dropped his head. “I’ll admit none of this is right. It all feels off. But the doctor said you’d be okay. He said there wouldn’t be any lasting effects after whatever you’d taken had cleared your system.”
So he was admitting there was something in my system that shouldn’t be there. My guard grew even higher.
“Doctor? What doctor? I don’t remember seeing a doctor. I remember seeing a lot of other things, though. Who else did you invite into this room while I was unable to consent to anything?”
“No one has been here,” he replied, urging me with his eyes to believe him as he frowned and shook his head. “I called the doctor because I was worried. But he was never alone with you. I was here. I was always here.”
Alex started to explain that after I’d passed out, his private doctor had come to check on me and that, yes, they couldn’t rule out that a drug was in my system. But he’d refused to let the doctor take my blood to check it without my consent. Alex was convinced I’d had an allergic reaction to something Alma had put in the tea. But I knew that was bullshit. I bet the doctor did, too.
“Was it arsenic she put in it?” I hissed, but Alex ignored me, fixating instead on something else I’d said.
“What do you mean you saw other things? What other things?”
I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to divulge. I wasn’t convinced I could trust him or anyone else in this house. I needed to leave and get myself to safety.
“There were... people... here, in this room.”
His eyes bore into mine with so much concern that it made me doubt myself for a split second.
“I promise you, with my whole heart, the only people that’ve been in here are me, the doctor, oh, and Alma. She came in to take you to the bathroom during the times you were a little more lucid. But nothing underhand happened. You were always safe and being cared for.”
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“But you think you saw someone else here?” He reached forward to touch my arm, but I moved it away before he could, and sighed. “There was no one else. You had moments where you became distressed as you slept. You thrashed a little in the bed, but I did what I could to calm you.”
“What did you do?” I asked, glaring back at him.
“I stroked your hair and placed a cold, damp cloth on your forehead to try and bring down your fever. You were having fever dreams, Emma. And I know how scary that must’ve been for you, especially being in a strange environment. But that’s all they were... dreams.”
I was still confused, but what he said did make sense. A fever dream that’d felt so real it had twisted my mind, pulling nightmare images from my brain, and using them in the worst way.
“I want to go home,” I stated plainly, intent on getting my things together and leaving within the hour, sooner hopefully, regardless of how sick I felt.
“I’m not sure leaving now would be a good idea,” he replied. “You were running a temperature for a lot of the time you were asleep. You’re still going to be weak.”
“Drugged you mean,” I snapped back. “I wasn’t asleep.”
He didn’t respond. He wouldn’t admit to it.
And as I started to shift my body, trying to move off the bed, horror hit me once again.
“If I was safe here, then where the fuck did my underwear go?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EMMA
He looked at me like I’d accused him of first-degree murder. Then all hell broke loose as he marched out of the room, shouting to speak to Alma. I wanted to follow him, to see what was happening, but I wasn’t that steady on my feet, and I was only wearing the damn T-shirt they’d put me in. So I stayed where I was, determined to use the time to get myself together and ready to leave.
I could hear him shouting down the hallway, and I stood on shaky legs, listening for a while. Then, I noticed my clothes, freshly laundered, on a chair beside the door, and I picked them up and walked towards the bathroom to lock myself inside.
Once I was in the bathroom, I took the quickest shower I’d ever taken, then put my clothes on, feeling a little stronger with each passing minute. Every now and then, though, I couldn’t help but touch my neck, flashbacks burning me with shame and anger.
Why was he stalking me, even in my nightmares?
None of this was fucking fair.
