Page 84 of The Meaning Of You

Shelby circled around my feet and strolled back up to my chest, eyeing me coolly. I watched her for a moment as she sat and started to clean, trying to think through a million sharp cracks of pain in my head.

“Give it a rest.” I laid a hand on Shelby’s long silky body, took some deep breaths, and counted to ten. I got as far as eight before the haze in my brain cleared. “Fuck.” I sat up far too quickly and checked the room, shouting, “Mads?”

Shelby took off for the lounge and I winced as a half-dozen items of heavy machinery crashed from one side of my brain to the other.

When there was no answer, I tried again, “Mads?”

Still nothing.

I cradled my head in my hands, waiting for the commotion in my brain to settle and the room to right itself. When it did, I felt around my skull until my fingers sank into a boggy mess at the back. “Shit.” They came away sticky with blood and I wiped it on my shirt.

“Mads? Answer me,” I tried again as the room shifted in and out of focus. I blinked furiously, struggling onto one hip. Where the fuck was he? I had to get off the fucking floor. I needed to call someone.

I felt in my pocket but my phone wasn’t there. I tried to think where I’d left it, but it was like grasping at smoke. Like an old black-and-white movie, stuttering and disjointed. The accident site. Justin’s house. Coming home. Mads turning off the alarm.The alarm. Mads’ voice in my head.They were waiting for us.

My phone. Where the fuck was my phone?

I got a leg underneath and tried to push myself up, bile surging up the back of my throat. I swallowed it down and kept going, grabbing onto a dining chair for better leverage.

Shelby watched me from the sofa and I grunted her name. “Where’s my phone, girl?” She replied with a soft mewl and jumped from the chair. I blinked at the red stain running along her side, my heart leaping into my throat. “Are you hurt, girl?” But she was moving too freely, and only then did I see the pool of blood on the wooden floor between us. My blood.

“Well, shit.” Mads was not gonna be happy about that. I snorted at the thought and wondered if I was losing my mind.

I clawed my way up the leg of the chair and struggled onto the seat. Then, after a few false starts, I was able to stand, holding on to the back. From there I could see into the kitchen. I spied my phone charging on the countertop next to Mads’ one and lurched my way across, grabbing it just seconds before myvision started to grey at the edges. Gripping it tight in my fist, I slid down the wall and promptly tipped sideways onto the floor.

“Fuck it.” I pushed myself upright and opened my phone, blinking furiously to try and keep my vision clear. It was just after eleven o’clock. Mads had been gone less than thirty minutes.

My call went straight to Samuel’s voicemail. “Dammit, man. Answer your bloody phone.” I tried again. Same thing. And again. I slammed my fist against the front of the breakfast bar. “Come on, Samuel. Pick up. Pick up.”

When he didn’t answer a fourth time, I called Jerry instead. Before she even had a chance to speak, the words were pouring from my mouth. “They took him, Jerry. They took Mads. The book, the notebook, the key code, they took all of it.”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” she said, sounding annoyingly calm. “What are you talking about?”

I took a breath and tried to compose myself. “There were two guys in the house when we got back?—”

“Got back from where?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just listen,” I was almost shouting. “They knocked me out and they took Mads, along with all our notes.”

“Oh Christ.” Jerry exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

My hand went to the back of my head. “A bit woozy but I’m fine. I don’t know about Mads.”

“How long ago did it happen?”

“I can’t say for sure,” I answered, staring at the blood on my fingers. “Fifteen minutes, maybe more. Samuel’s not picking up.”

“Okay. I’ll have to borrow a car but I’m on my way. Can you call yourself an ambulance?”

“No, no ambulance,” I blurted, trying and failing to get my tongue to work right. Then, realising I had to sound a lot more convincing than that, I took a breath and tried to slow my brain.“Honestly, Jerry, I’m okay. A small concussion, maybe. Not the first time. Won’t be the last.”

Jerry blew a frustrated sigh, clearly not buying my bullshit. “Fine, but if I get there and think any different, you’ll do as I damn well say. In the meantime, no heroics. You so much as think about trying to go find him on your own and I will kill you myself. Understood?”

I grimaced against the white-hot pain lancing through my brain and squeaked, “Yep. Understood.”

“Good. Now use your phone to record everything you remember about what happened and leave getting hold of Samuel to me. He’ll know what to do.”

A knock at the front door almost stopped my heart and the phone tumbled to the floor. “Shit.”

---