Page 110 of Sin With Me

Chapter28

Kate

My mouth felt dry.I moved my tongue underneath my upper lip, desperate to find a drop of spit, but there was none. I then check the rippled roof of my mouth and behind the lower lip. There was nothing there; in fact, I found it difficult to switch the position of my tongue as well. I could have sworn that someone stuffed my cheeks with cotton balls. They too not only felt dry, but also big and swollen, like a chipmunk’s.

I wiggled my nose, inhaling dry, familiar air. It hurt to do so. I didn’t catch the trace of smog I remembered from Long Island and no salty ocean breeze. There was only dust, dirt, and maybe even a splash of beer. Even the thought of a nice cold one didn’t salivate my mouth. I moved my tongue around again over the grains of sand between my teeth. A memory of being dragged across the desert, barefoot, swollen, dehydrated, and barely alive flashed through mymind.

“Michael, you don’t have to do this. You’re a good man.” My mother’s distant voice echoed over and over again, but that wasn’t possible. My mother was in a clinic. She couldn’t talk. What had happened to me? Was I still alive? I slowly opened my eyes, but everything blurred into a blend of brown and orange tones. The smell of candle wax hit menext.

Where amI?

I shifted in the hard seat and felt an ache in every part of mybody.

Ouch.

Everything hurt: muscle and bone. Another memory was triggered: this time of a slap across my face. Its sting traveled from my cheek all the way down to my toes. In fact, I could still feel its print on myskin.

I tried to open my eyes further and realized that I could barely do so on my left side, so I just kept that one closed. In the corner of the somehow familiar room I recognized a man’s figure. It was myboss.

“Chief? What’s going on?” My throat felt hoarse. Each word scraped over my vocal chords. I needed water. It was my only hope to survive.

“Welcome home, Hope. Or should I say, Kate? Which one is it, sister?”

“Water,” Isaid.

“You’ll get water when you’re ready to talk.” Mike’s voice was cold and I didn’t recognize why he’d take that tone withme.

“Water,” I repeated. If I didn’t get any, I wouldn’t be able to speak again. I could feel my body failing me. Each time I breathed, it hurt, and that was when I remembered that not long ago someone had kicked me in my ribcage. The pain surged through my chest each time I inhaled, and so I chose to take shorter breaths.

Don’t ever lose hope.Cameron’s last words rang in my ears, and that was when the events of the last twenty-four hours began coming together. I remembered sleeping in his bed, calling my mom, and then I went to my office.

Mike kidnapped me. He kept asking about fifty million.

It hurt even more when my body suddenly tensed. My muscles couldn’t take much more abuse. Mike Donaldson took me home? Where was home? I looked around the room some more and realized that I was sitting by a table on one of the wooden chairs at the Bistro, inPace.

He took me back to Aaron Cortez?

“Water,” I begged. If I had a chance to explain that I had no clue where their money was, maybe I could still save myself. From the way my leg felt, it was broken, so running was out of the question. My feet pulsed, cramping each time I shifted. They felt blistered and bruised. Even if my leg was okay, I was sure my body would fail me at the first step. Why did Mike call me sister?

“Where’s the money, Kate?” he asked.

“For God’s sake, haven’t you done enough?” I heard a familiar voice. Was itreal?

I forced my right eye open and couldn’t believe my sight. I wanted to cry but I knew that no tears would fall. My body was too dehydrated, and I had nothing to crywith.

“Enough? I’ve been waiting for this moment almost thirty years, Ma. You gave me up. You didn’t want me. You killed my father. All I want is what’s rightfully mine. I want this family to regain the value of itsname.”

They found her, and she was speaking again. A sudden urge to run to her, take her away from here and hide her again, jolted my body upright. Along with the sudden move came the agony from the distress of my injuries. My stomach cramped and I felt nauseous.

“Water.” I didn’t realize that I’d asked for some again.

“Here’s your fucking water.” Mike reached for a glass on a table and spilled the water right on my face. I licked my lips, trying to catch the drops with my tongue.

“Now talk,” he demanded.

I looked at him, the image my eyes caught still blurry, and flashed hate and bitterness from underneath my right lash as I repeated, “Water.” If the son of a bitch wanted me to talk, I had to ensure that I could survivethis.

He finally passed me a glass and set it on the table. When I tried to reach for it, I realized that I couldn’t do so with my right arm. From the way it felt, that was broken as well. It must have been a few hours old because the swelling made my fingers look smaller.

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