Page 60 of Suspicion

Ella

The first thing Ella noticed was the gnawing discomfort in her head. Not bad enough to penetrate her slumber, the ache simply nagged in the corners of her mind, warning perhaps that she should wake, that something was wrong. Even within the confines of her sleep, though, she sensed her body’s exhaustion, and while she could not say how or why she was so weary, she ignored the silent caution and slept on.

All that seemed to matter was that she rested. As if the weight of some ill-fated adventure had pummeled her, and this was the first chance she’d had to close her eyes. Ella dismissed the pain for as long as she could until its intrusion cut into the floating comfort of her dreams, and she could bear it no more.

The next thing was her restricted movement. Alarm bells rang out louder as she tried to shift her hand to her face and found that, for no particular reason, she wasn’t able to. Sighing, she stretched, prepared to try again. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep on her arm, and she had lost the feeling? Maybe that’s why she couldn’t move it properly.

It was only when her second, then third attempts failed that her heart rate sped up, sending adrenaline to wake her.

Something’s wrong.

Her eyelids flickered in recognition, her toes wriggling as she roused. Something soft was covering her, and she was warm.

I must be in bed.

Her lips curled into a lazy smile at the soothing idea. Bed sounded perfect. Finally, back in her own enormous king-sized divan, she could get proper beauty sleep and put the nightmare of Tucker behind her.

An image of his face burst into her mind’s eye, disturbing what remained of her rest.

Tucker had been a fiend. She didn’t know much about the guy or care to know more, but what she knew was dreadful enough. He was a man the same age as her father who was utterly as callous, prepared to hurt and denigrate to get what he wanted.

He was nothing to her.

Maybe I dreamed him?

The thought was oddly warming. Yes, that must have been what happened.

I was so tired that I crashed out and dreamed the whole sorry encounter.

There was no cabin in the woods, no barn to be trussed up in, and no rabbit pie, but first and foremost, there was definitely no Tucker. No man as dark and foreboding existed in real life. She’d conjured him based on one of those spicy romance books she liked to devour on vacation.

There was no captor determined to bring her to her knees. No one compelling her to call him sir, and no one with the kinds of blue eyes she could dive into.

Tucker was a figment of her imagination.

Her muscles relaxed at the verdict, though as she leaned into the peace, she realized that both her arms were stretched behind her head.

Strange.

Brow furrowed, she turned her head, her gaze opening to clarify it was indeed the case.

But that’s not right.

Her pulse quickened, although there were no obvious signs of danger.

The barn was all part of my nightmare. I’m not there now. I’m in bed.

She could feel the support of the mattress beneath her, confirming the point.

Slowly, as though she sensed the significance of the outcome, her head twisted in the opposite direction. There, too, was her bicep, her left arm extended in the same way as the right. Something definitely wasn’t right. Ella had never woken up in such an awkward position before.

Pulling in a deep breath, she instructed her hands to lower to her sides. Maybe she’d only fallen asleep in an odd, contorted position? Exhaustion could do that, and it would explain her confusion as she awoke. But yet again, her body refused to respond to her brain’s command. However hard she jerked her arms to join the rest of her body, they didn’t seem to move, and as she focused, she swore she felt something soft wrapped around her wrists.

A familiar panic tightened in the middle of her chest, spreading out to her ribs and beyond until suddenly, it was difficult to catch her breath.

Oh God.

The dread was cold, extending across her like an icy blast.

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