I hitch my leg over his hip, needing to get closer, and he buries his face in the crook of my neck.
“I have nightmares,” he says, his voice rough and full of pain, “I try to keep you safe, but I can’t. There’s something in the shadows, waiting, lurking, wanting to hurt you the second I turn my back. I don’t know how to protect you, Zarah. I don’t know what to do.”
“There’s nothing hurting me.”
“I wish I believed that. I really want to believe that.”
We kiss like we haven’t seen each other for weeks, consuming each other’s souls, trying to get as close as possible. I’m wet, and he makes me come, his thumb rubbing my clit, his fingers inside me, and frantically, I give him another handjob until he explodes, shuddering, my name coming out of his mouth in gasping puffs.
“Tell me you need me,” I beg. “Promise me you want me. Don’t send me away. Don’t leave me.”
“I’m here, I’m here,” he chants, rocking me, and I fall into a restless sleep, shielded in his arms.
Something wakes me, and I fall out of bed, banging my ankle on the nightstand. The room is a blur of shadows, voices echoing in my head.
Blindly, black swirling around me, my hands grasping at nothing, I stand.
“Where are you?”
“What’s your birthdate?”
“What’s your mother’s maiden name?”
The air is sterile, and the room is cold, so cold.
I trip and land hard on my knees in an unfamiliar hallway.
A dog whines.
My thighs are sticky, and I’m tender between my legs. Is that now? Or from before?
I can’t see, as if a veil is covering my face, but in the back of my mind, I know I’m awake. I don’t know where I am, or how I got here. My skin smells like sex, but I don’t know when. Or who.
I stagger to my feet, and my hip catches the edge of a table. Something falls, shatters. I don’t know what. The noise is muted, like a pillow covering my ears.
I shouldn’t be here. I need to get out of this place.
The door’s locked, and I grapple with the deadbolts. They want to keep me here, but I’m stronger than they are.
The dog whines again.
Someone wants to hurt me.
I can’t stay here.
Finally, I throw the door open, and a wall of ice hits me in the face. The floor’s chilly under my feet, but I force myself to move.
I slam the door shut and the whining stops.
I step forward again, and then again, and suddenly the floor disappears under my foot. The ground meets my ribs and the wind’s knocked out of me. My body rolls, the pain flaring with every second.
At last, I stop, an ache under my breast so fierce I can’t breathe.
Punishment.
I don’t know enough, but it’s too much.
“What’s your phone number?”an angry voice demands.