“Remember what?” My head throbbed.
“He drugged you too.” Graham let go of Hunter’s throat.
I shook my head. This couldn’t be happening. “No, we went to the hotel. My family’s still there. Why would he drug me?”
“To make you question everything—even me.”
“If you think I’m not pressing charges, you’re sorely mistaken,” Hunter said, wiping the blood from his lip.
“Maggie, I found Graham strapped to your bed,” Katie said.
“What?” I held my forehead, a throbbing pain hitting me in waves. “But Hunter said?—”
Hunter scoffed. “Katie, real funny. Quit playing games. I sent you that text about Maggie’s dream in confidence.” He smiled like he was a kid caught in a lie.
Graham shoved him and he stumbled backwards losing his footing. “Quit gaslighting her, you fuckwit.”
Before I could even process what the hell was going on, I shouted, “Graham! Hunter! Katie! I need all of you to leave.” I turned away, my thoughts rushing rapidly through my brain. Small flashes of last night weaving in pixilated bursts.
“Maggie?” Graham put his hands on my shoulders. “Come on, you know last night wasn’t a dream.”
“No.” I shoved him off. “Leave.”
“Mo chróí?” His eyes were tight at the corners—not worry. Calculation.
I turned on him so fast he took a step back. “You too. Either leave now, or I’ll have the police escort you bothoff the premises.”
“You heard the lady, everybody out.” Katie waved her hands around, directing Hunter back into the Bentley, and Graham to his squad.
She squeezed my arm once, quick, on her way past. “I’ll call you in a few hours, kay, girl?”
I nodded and went inside. None of this made any sense. I remembered the dress. The leather. And I remembered someone rubbing my back on the bed at the hotel. But if the dream was just a dream, why did it feel so real? Why did this headache feel like it was so much more than too many glasses of wine?
Why was I still foggy?
As the morning sun shifted into the afternoon, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Everything was fuzzy, my eyebrows were constantly clenched.
I made my way upstairs to retrace my steps. Maybe bringing the evening back into the forefront of my mind would help.
I went straight to my room and to my surprise the bed was a mess. Blankets and pillows scattered on the floor. Then poking out from under a wadded-up sheet was something dark—black.
I reached down and pulled the sheet back. It was Graham’s utility belt.
In an instant, the entire evening washed over me. Hunter’s outburst. Annie checking in. The bubble bath. The text. And Graham. Strapped to the bed, just like in the dream. Flashes of us together played in my mind. The sounds he made—not something I dreamed up.
My breathing quickened.
“He did it,” I said to the room. “Hunter drugged us.”
I searched the room for the wine bottle, the glasses. They were gone.
Maybe in the kitchen?
Running downstairs, I found the glasses in the dish drainer. The bottle, nowhere.
Maybe he put it back in the liquor cabinet.
I rushed to the study and swung the doors open on the cabinet. I knelt, scanning the bottles inside.
