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Rip. Tear. Scream.
Going to kill.
As quickly as they started, they’re gone. The pain is gone but the memory of it lingers, twitching in my muscles and settling on my skin in a sticky cool sweat. Where I was burning up before, I’m shivering and shaking now. I’m breathless for an entirely different reason, and all of my muscles hurt from the tension that was coiled around me.
“Fuck!” I cry, though it comes out more like a broken sob.
“What’s wrong?” Cove is instantly by my side, face full of concern. I have no idea what he’s been doing for the last…however many minutes I was out of it, locked in my prison of pain. Did he even notice anything was wrong until I spoke?
It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I can tell him the truth…can I?
“Nothing. I just…I…I need my bag. Have you seen it?” I get to my knees, my head spinning, and fumble around trying to find my belongings as my rising panic reaches fever pitch.
I locate my bikini and desperately try to tie the strings that will hold it together. My shaky hands don’t want to comply though and I fumble over and over again.
“Let me help,” Cove says gently, his hands brushing my thighs and making me jump. “I’ve got this.”
He deftly re-ties my bikini bottoms and then moves on to the top. I twitch in agitation, my skin thrumming with electricity as my brain races.
I didn’t take my meds! Summer warned me! Why didn’t I listen? What the hell was that? What just happened to me?
I’m so fucked.
