Page 14 of Deadly Rival

I still can’t open my eyes. They’re heavy, the lids pinned down with iron weights, just like the ones pressing on my limbs. That tick, though…

Consciousness slips away again.

The tick, and something else. This time, some of the fog has cleared, but it still lingers. What else? The blanket. Mine is furry; this is smooth. What…

Memories. The gun, the car, the man with the fake batman growl. Maggie’s brother.

Sebastian. That’s his name. It comes to me in a rush, along with a flood of images of him at high school. But they fade away, overlaid by one. His face, watching as the drug pulled me under. He’s a man now. He’s a man, and he’s taken me captive.

The fog is swirling away, and I almost miss it. Cold, spiky reality tears away the last of the comforting sleepiness, and I force my sticky eyes open.

“You’re finally up.”

I yelp and try to sit up, but Sebastian’s hands land on my shoulders, pressing me to the bed. I’m in a dimly lit room, and the light casts his face into sharp angles. His eyes are the deep blue of the ocean at dusk, and my gaze is drawn there like a magnet as his weight presses me into the mattress.

“Careful. Don’t move too quickly. It might make you sick. I don’t want to deal with you throwing up all over my bed.”

His bed.

His bed.

Just why in the hell am I in his bedroom? A cell would have made sense. But his bedroom?

I try to speak, but it turns into a cough. Why is my mouth so dry? How long have I been out? Sebastian slides his arm behind my back and lifts me upright. Then he holds a glass to my lips. Water. I sip at it, more of my father’s words echoing at the back of my fuzzy brain.

If you’re held for ransom, eat and drink when you get the chance because you’re at their mercy. Take what you can get while it’s offered.

Too soon, I’ve drained the glass. Sebastian pulls his arm away, and I shift back, pressed against the headboard. The lingering drugs in my system are making me slow but keep me calm. The knot of churning terror in my gut is muted, buried under a sluggish haze. I scan the room.

Floor-to-ceiling windows cover one wall, but black-out blinds mean they’re no use to me. The light comes from a few artfully placed downlights and a statement piece lamp twisted into the abstract shape of a woman. Each item mygaze lands on—subtle artwork, a single chair with a twisted back—seems chosen with a purpose.

It’s an overwhelming impression of luxury, and my eyes flutter closed again, my thoughts blurring, turning fuzzier by the second. I need to stay awake. I need to find out what in the hell is going on. I need to…

***

I’m lying down again. When did that happen? I push straight up, and this time, there’s no Sebastian here to stop me. I pull the blanket down and look at myself. I’m still wearing my work blouse and skirt, though my shoes and jacket are gone. I feel my body all over, from my head down to my toes. Nothing hurts, except a lingering pulse at the back of my head.

Moving like an old lady, I shift my legs off the bed and get to my feet. There’s a moment of dizziness, then my head clears again, thank God. The last thing I need is to collapse.

What did Sebastian say when I woke up before? His bedroom. I’m in his bedroom. My stomach lurches, and I’m not sure if it’s the drugs or the solid lump that just dropped into my guts.

Sebastian hates me, and he has every right to. I never even apologized for what I did. He wouldn’t want me like…that…would he? If anything, he should want me dead. But however much I repeat it to myself as I walk to the blind-covered windows, I’m not really that naive.

I’ve heard the stories.

My father had a business rival, and he ordered my brother and his friends to teach her a lesson. One night, when I wasn’t supposed to be home, I lay awake and listened to Harrison andhis drunk friends gloat over exactly what lessons they taught her. Sebastian might not want me at all, but that wouldn’t stop him teaching me a lesson just the same.

Shit.

Reality rolls in, and the calm I’ve been clinging to with my fingernails shatters. Nausea hits full force, and just in time, I see an open door leading to a bathroom. I race in, drop to my knees, and throw up all the water I drank into the toilet before the heaves dissolve into sobs.

Why am I here? What does he want with me?

It plays on an unbearable loop, in time with my pulsing headache. I sob until my throat is raw and my eyes are puffy from crying. Only Dad’s voice pulls me back from the brink.

Pull yourself the fuck together, Ophelia. You’re a Calder. Act like it.

Act like it.

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