Page 47 of Endless

Where was I? A morgue? Library?

No, if I was at a library, someone would shush me for talking so loud. Then again, maybe it wasn’t loud. My pounding head didn’t like loud right now.

My fingers met something cool. With my other hand, I traced along the object and it was round. Smooth. About six or seven inches tall, maybe? And a round top.

Grabbing it, I lifted. No smells. I coughed, about ready to gag again at the nasty in my mouth. Nothing worse than not being able to rinse your mouth after a barf fest.Gross.

Reaching in, I felt instant cold. Frigid.Ice.

I snatched a cube.Yes!

I shoved one in my mouth and dipped my hand in again. Wait, something round. A water bottle. “Jackpot.”

Fumbling with the lid, I twisted it off and got the opening to my mouth—after spilling most of the contents down the front of my shirt—and gulped. Total brain freeze, but it was so worth it. The cold slid down my throat like an Icee on the fiftieth day of a triple-digit heat wave.

My lungs burned for air, so I pulled the bottle away and inhaled. Water never tasted so good.

Now. To find out where I was. I patted my pockets again, hoping my phone had magically appeared.

No such luck.

What the hell was I thinking drinking so much? And where had I gone? I mean, how did I even know how to get anywhere?

I followed the table, my fingertips along the edge and my other hand out in front of me. All I needed to do was ram into a door. I had enough scars on my face, didn’t need to add more.

Come to think of it… I stopped and scrubbed my face with my hands. Nothing hurt. I patted down my chest, butt, and my legs. I ran into that nasty wet spot on my thigh. Disgusting.

I passed out in my own puke.

Back to shuffling forward, my foot met something. By the sound, it might have been an office chair. I found the back of it, and it was leather. Yeah. Office chair. Had to be at Bill’s. And if it was after closing time, no wonder it was quiet.

But I’d probably smell grease. That place always smelled like grease.

Eventually, I made it to another wall, followed that to what felt like a door. I cranked the knob and pulled it open. I shoved the almost empty water bottle in my back pocket so I could use my hands better.

Now I heard murmuring. And the air smelled like flowers. I heard water, too. Trickling. But I was clearly inside, since there wasn’t a breeze and the voices, they were bouncing off high ceilings, maybe. Echoing a little.

“Front desk, how may I help you?”

Oh shit.Front desk? Water trickling. Echoing?

I’d made it to Lizzie’s? How the hell?

My hands met a cool wall. Marble. That’d match the idea I had in my head about how posh this place was.

“Hello?” I yelled again as I made my way to the voices. Random voices, saying random things, but they were getting louder, which meant I might be making my way into the lobby.

I couldn’t imagine what I looked like. If it was half as bad as I smelled…Shit. If I could only see, I’d sneak out of here. My fingers met the end of the wall, and from the intensity of the voices, I could tell I’d entered the lobby.

Shit.Now what?

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lizzie

IhatedwatchingDamonstruggle like that. So disheveled and disgusting. Puke on his jeans and shirt. Hair all over the place.

As my therapist would call it,Tough Love;they don’t call it that because it’s easy.

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