Page 120 of Disarming Caine

I exited the wide double-doors from the ballroom, everything spinning faster until I leaned against the doorframe. With my eyes shut, I took soothing breaths until it stopped. Where were the bathrooms? I’d been here before but couldn’t remember. To the left, maybe?

One careful step after another and I found the sign pointing me forward. Almost there. A trickle of sweat ran down my chest. It was so hot in there.

An older woman passed me, head down to her phone. She wore a white pantsuit with a clutch under her arm and a long flowered scarf in pinks and blues. “These washrooms are closed. You need to use the ones down the hall.” She gestured vaguely behind her, not taking her eyes off her phone. “Hang a right just before the hotel doors.”

“Thanks.” I blinked rapidly, trying to force the hallway into focus. Bracing a hand on the wall to maintain my balance, I continued toward the entry to the hotel. My lungs couldn’t grab enough air and I had to stare at the floor as I walked, otherwise I’d fall over.

I turned into the side corridor she must have meant. No washroom signs, but everything was so hazy I wouldn’t have been able to see it anyway. Just had to splash water on my face. Then I’d be fine.

Ten feet or fifty feet down the hallway—I couldn’t tell—I stopped and leaned my back against the wall. The stupid shoes were hard to walk in. I slipped one off and my toes rejoiced.

Soft footfalls approached from the end of the corridor. Why weren’t there more women down here if the other bathroom was closed? My head snapped up to see who it was, sending the entire world into a spin.

I was falling.

Or not.

The wall was still at my back.

Or was that the floor?

“Had a bit too much to drink?” came a voice from the direction of the footsteps.

“I hate these shoes.” I clamped my eyes shut and pressed my head back. It was definitely the wall. I was still vertical. “Can you help me get to the bathroom? I think I need to throw up.”

Yeah, that would make me feel better.

“I’ll help.” It was a male voice, something familiar in it. An accent, a clipped tone, a something.

I cracked one eye open.

He was almost next to me. His eyes were so bright. So green. I knew those eyes. But from where?

“Do I…?” My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

He lifted my arm and wrapped it around his shoulder. “Walk with me. I got you.”

Say thanks, Sam.

Spots appeared at the edge of my vision and a wave of heat flashed through my entire body, just before all my food came up in a rush, pouring out over the carpet.

The man groaned and threaded his arm around my waist, holding me up when my knees buckled.

Then the darkness pulled me under.

Eyesgluedshut.

Vomit on my tongue.

My head throbbed.

Relax, Sam. One. Observe.

Scent: Vanilla and amber.

Sound: Voices bickering.

Touch: Nothing. Couldn’t move my body.

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