Page 22 of What Happened Last Night

I'm at home. In bed. Carlotta is lying beside me. It’s hot. Too hot, and I reach out and push the duvet away from me. Carlotta stirs beside me, but she doesn’t wake up. I have a pounding headache and my mouth is bone dry.

I close my eyes, wanting to go back to sleep, but I hear a noise from downstairs like glass smashing. That must have been what woke me up. But what’s causing it? I frown in the darkness, listening. More smashing and then silence. I shrug and close my eyes again.

They fly open when I hear footsteps on the stairs. Panic grips me tightly and I frantically shake Carlotta.

“What?” she groans. “It’s the middle of the night, William. Go back to sleep.”

“Someone's in the house,” I hiss.

She stops talking, sitting up now, wide awake. She wraps the duvet around herself, covering her chest.

“Who is it?” she whispers.

“I have no idea,” I snap. “Call 9-1-1.”

I get up out of bed, looking around for something I can use as a weapon, but there’s nothing. Instead of doing what I say and calling 911, Carlotta jumps out of bed too, and we look at each as the door to our room begins to slowly open. I can see the fear in Carlotta’s eyes. I can feel that same fear eating away at my stomach.

We look away from each other, both of us focusing on the door. It opens all the way and moonlight streams in, lighting up a figure who stops and stares back at us. I swallow hard. The figure in the doorway is Candy.

My eyes opened slowly. I looked around, trying to work out where I was and why my whole body was hurting like I’d been in a fight with half the city. I knew I had been drinking, and the pounding in my head confirmed it, but why was the rest of my body in so much pain?

I tried to move, to push back the thin blue blanket that was laid over me, but even moving my arm hurt like a bastard and I stopped even trying to move, instead trying and failing to work out where I was and what had happened.

“He’s waking up,” Carlotta said.

Okay, so Carlotta was here. Wherever here was. I felt her cool hand on my brow, and I turned my head slightly to look at her, ignoring the pain it caused me.

“Where am I? What the hell happened?” I asked.

“You were hit by a car. But the doctors say you’ll be okay. You need to rest,” she said.

I was still trying to process all of this when another voice spoke up. A voice that sent cold fingers of fear running over the back of my neck, followed by a deep-rooted anger.

“Mr. Alden? I need to ask you a few questions,” Detective Del Rey said.

I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to keep my anger in check. Flying off the handle now wouldn’t exactly look good. But what the hell was he doing here? Couldn’t a man even get hit by a fucking car in peace?

His voice brought something back to me, though. A dream I had before I woke up here in the hospital. A dream where I’d heard Candy breaking into our house. Where Carlotta and I stood at either side of our bed, watching her enter our bedroom.

Was it real? Was it a memory coming back to me from the night Candy was killed? Or was it just a dream brought on by the shit that had hit the fan big time?

I opened my eyes again. The sooner I answered the detective’s questions, telling him I remembered nothing, the sooner he would leave, and I could stew on it a bit and work out whether it was a real memory or not.

Chapter Twelve

Jamie

Itook a seat on the opposite side of the bed from Carlotta. The seat was uncomfortable, made from hard plastic, and I shuffled a little, trying to find a slightly more comfortable way to sit. It didn’t work. William opened his eyes again and looked at me.

“Is this really necessary right now, Detective?” he asked. “In case you didn’t get the memo, I’ve been in a car accident.”

“I got the memo,” I responded coolly. “And I’ve spoken to your doctors. They have confirmed that you’re perfectly fine to answer some questions. In fact, you really lucked out. You have a broken bone in your wrist, but other than that, you escaped with a few minor cuts and bruises. Although I imagine you’ll be in a bit of pain for some time.”

“Yeah, that’s what I call lucky,” he muttered under his breath in a sarcastic tone.

I ignored him. He wasn’t going to get under my skin and cause me to bite. William looked ready to argue with me, to tell me to get out of his room, but instead he sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing as he did so.

“Be careful, honey,” Carlotta said, jumping to her feet. “Maybe you’d be best off staying laid down.”

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