Page 3 of Fractured

The glass dangles from my fingertips and his eyes go right to it when he turns around. His face lights up as I close the distance between us. His arm bands around my waist as I lean in to whisper in his ear, making sure my lips brush against him as I speak, “I’m leaving to find somewhere quieter to spend the rest of my evening. Care to join me for a nightcap?” I tempt him, pushing my breasts into his chest to make sure my implications are understood.

“Wish I could, Remi, but I have a few more connections I need to make before I leave tonight. Maybe I can catch up with you when I’m done.” His lips skim my ear as he gives the casual brush off. I’m not normally one to misread the situation, but somewhere along the lines, I must have crossed his friendliness vibes with I-want-to-fuck-you vibes.

I grace him with one of my practiced smiles and say goodnight before finally making my way to the elevator. Chalk this up to lessons learned. I should’ve walked away with the first attack against my tastebuds.

The elevator doors close behind me, and I drop all expressions from my face. I pull my cell phone from my clutch and open my text messages. The thread for Vander, my driver and bodyguard, opens right as I remember he has tonight off. Fucking inconvenient, but he hasn’t asked for a day off in the five years he’s worked for me. He even came with me when I went to Yale.

Exiting from the thread, I click on the thread for my mother’s driver. She has no use for him now, which meant he was available to cover for my driver tonight. The letters on my keyboard swim before my eyes, lifting from the screen to float above my phone. Shaking my head, I try to clear the image. What the fuck is going on?

The elevator begins its descent and I lose my balance. My shoulder slams into the wall as my feet wobble in my heels. I may enjoy numbing myself in order to tolerate the insufferable, but I didn’t drink enough to have this kind of effect. My thumbs fly over my screen, ordering my driver for the night to be ready at the entrance to take me home.

As I wait for the elevator to arrive at the lobby, my hand grips the rail, knuckles turning white. My stomach churns as if the steel box I’m in is actually a roller coaster car, taking dips and rushing rises before swooping in a loop.

When the doors open, I take a deep breath in an effort to steady myself. My hand makes a chirp and I glance down, surprised to see a bird. Blinking rapidly, I do a double take and find my phone resting in my palm. There’s a message from the driver. Motherfucker isn’t waiting outside for me. Ten minutes away? I hope he knows he’ll be looking for a new job come morning.

The letters float off my screen again, and this time, they don’t go home when I shake my head. The K grows teeth and starts chasing after the H. They circle around my feet, and I follow them out of the elevator into the lobby. I blink and the B has grown wings and a stinger. It starts chasing the other two letters, threatening to pump them full of poison.

The H glances back and lets out a startled yelp before running even faster and hiding behind the legs of the doorman. I’m startled by the realization that the loopy giggle I hear is coming from me.

I don’t giggle.

Ever.

The doorman tries to wipe the judgment from his expression as he holds the door open for me. “Ma’am,” he greets with a head nod as I walk past. The cool night air swirls around me, and the B flies to join the rest of the letters hovering in the air. Like a swarm of bees—the B acting as their queen—they begin to fly around me. They swoop in circles, coming closer with each rotation.

My hair lifts with the increasing breeze they create. They stare at me, and I know they can see into my soul. They can see it. A darkness hiding, lurking in the shadows. Truth serum drips from their stingers, and I jerk to the side to avoid being splashed with the metallic drips.

The truth seekers become angry and then swarm faster and faster. I need to escape them. If they unlock my secrets, they’ll never go back inside their box.

I begin swatting the air around me and run toward the alley on the side of the building. The K and H are already hiding around the corner. Trembles shake their thin, black lines. I run to hide behind a dumpster, and right when I lean against the wall, the ground begins to roll.

My stomach jumps from the upsetting motion and I quickly lean over, spewing all the alcohol I’ve had over the last several hours. The ground continues to move as if a worm is underneath me, and as I lean over, the sky rains down on me. Small rock fragments pelt my skin, causing stinging scrapes.

The sky is falling…

The brick siding of the building scrapes against my palm as I reach out and steady myself. My eyes sink closed and I take some deep breaths, trying to clear myself of the foreign sensations. It doesn’t work; in fact, it makes things so much worse. Now, all I can concentrate on is the way the nausea is traveling through my whole body as if it’s alive. That, and the rotten taste in my mouth. My tongue slides against the roof of my mouth, trying to scrape the foul flavor from it, and I attempt to spit it out.

A cold hand lands on my arm and I jump. How the fuck was someone able to sneak up on me? I turn on my heel to face the ninja, but I find Scott’s concerned gaze. “Remi, are you okay?” he asks.

Am I okay? No. No, I’m not. I’m far from okay. Something is wrong. I’m always in control, but I’m not right now. Why is that? Think, Remi. You know what’s wrong. You just need to grasp the answer floating in your mind.

His arm slips around my waist, and I collapse into his hold, my legs refusing to hold all of my weight anymore. “It’s all right. I’ve got you,” he soothes me. I don’t need comforting like I’m some kind of weakling. I just need to be at home, away from the prying eyes of the alphabet bees.

I stumble as Scott leads us down the alley. I’m relieved to find the truth seekers have hidden themselves from him. They’re still here; I can sense their eyes following my every movement. My body feels disconnected from me like we’ve become two entities. The legs attached to me move, but I haven’t instructed them to do so. My heart is speeding up for no reason, pounding away in my chest like it wants to be its own living thing; separate from my chest.

We reach a sleek sports car, but I’m too disconnected to recognize what kind it is. Shouldn’t my driver be here by now?

Scott opens the passenger door for me and helps me inside. I flop onto the seat and he holds a water bottle to my lips. “That K-hole sure has a hold on you, doesn’t it? Drink up, Remi,” he instructs me. I take a sip, relieved to rinse my mouth from the lingering putrid taste.

Wait.

What did he just say?

K-hole?

That motherfucker drugged me.

I’m slow to connect the dots, and stop drinking the water he holds to my lips. I don’t trust him not to drug me even more. Ketamine only takes effect for a short amount of time. I just need to last long enough to gain full function over my body again and hope the gulp of water I drank doesn’t have something else in it.

---