Page 69 of Guarded from Sabotage

And then, more desperately,I need to remember.

Little details are beginning to register. I’m not on a bed or a couch, but something rough. Hard. Gritty.

It’s cold. A breeze brushes my skin, sending an involuntary shiver through me.

My knees are stinging.

Open your eyes and deal with this.

But I don’t want to. I want to be home with Dante on his way. I want reality to be my boyfriend taking care of me.

No. I need to face whatever my brain is trying to forget.

With more effort than I expected to need, I force my eyes open.

And immediately wish I hadn’t.

I’m not home.

I’m laying on a wooden floor in an empty room. The wall in front of me is covered with peeling wallpaper and water stains. There’s a window, partially boarded over, with most of the glass missing.

Where am I?

Memories are coming into focus—the reception area at the TAG building, greeting Julie, sitting in the office waiting for her to return…

Experimentally, I try moving my arms, but I can’t. Not because my muscles won’t work, but because my wrists are tied together.

Oh, God.

I’m tied up.

Why am I tied up?

Fear slams into me, driving all the air from my lungs. I can’t breathe. My pulse is a frenzied drumbeat in my ears.

More scattered memories come together in a terrifying rush.

The office. I started feeling funny in Julie’s office. The door was locked. So was the window. My phone wouldn’t work.

Not sick. I had to be drugged. But how?

A low, keening sound works its way up my throat.

Did Ivan get out? Did he have an accomplice? Was it someone else all along?

Am I going to die?

Tears burn behind my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek until I feel blood to hold back hysterical sobs.

“You’re finally awake.”

As I try to connect the familiar voice to a name, a set of legs move into my vision. One hiking boot kicks me in the ribs, sending pain flaring through my side. Instinctively, I hunch into a ball, but with my arms tied behind me, it’s impossible to protect myself.

“It took you long enough to wake up.”

The woman—it’s definitely a woman speaking—takes a few steps back; far enough away that I can see the rest of her body.

“Julie?” If I wasn’t lying down already, I might have fallen over from shock. “What? Why?”

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