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With multiple glassesof water and wine in her system, Kenna couldn’t postpone her need to use the bathroom any longer. She slid from the bar height chair.
“Where’s your restroom?”
“It’s through the bedroom.” Burning intent lit his eyes as they raked over her. “Hurry back. I have something for you.”
Dr. Merino’s bedroom was the absolute last place she needed to be and she ventured there purely out of desperation.
A lamp had been left on, casting a warm yellow glow, but she kept her attention trained on the hardwood until her feet met the cold tile of the bathroom. Kenna didn’t flip the lightswitch.
She had an intuitive knowledge of the space that negated the need for light, this place she’d visited through the memories of others.
In the dark, her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she grew more and more thankful that she hadn’t turned on the light. She wouldn’t have to see her reflection in the very mirror the other women had seen themselves in. She wouldn’t have to see the shower where they had scrubbed themselves clean after enduring whatever they’d mistaken for love.
Kenna stumbled to the sink and felt woozy traveling the short distance. The cold water rushing over her skin stimulated her thoughts. Her hands shook as she felt around for a towel.
Had she been drugged?
No one had mentioned blacking out, but she’d never doubted there were others. It was a question of how many.
Fear clung to every part of her as she stepped back into the bedroom. She’d consumed half a bottle of wine and with the possibility of a drugging on the table, her chances of returning to her apartment in one piece seemed grim.
A violent pain seized her stomach and she fell to her knees on the rug lining the foot of the bed. Kenna reined in the cries that were fighting to escape but it was of no use.
The home was small. She knew Dr. Merino had heard the thud.
She rolled onto her back and felt like a defenseless animal, waiting to be killed, not knowing if she was drunk or high but knowing without a doubt she had gone mad. Why else would she have entered the home that had been the center of endless romantic horrors?
She’d trapped herself with a man who was insatiable, predatory and, above all else, intelligent.
Excess alcohol blurred her vision as her head lolled to the side. The apple and clove scent carried to her, lying on the floor, as if urging her to remember where she was.
Kenna’s eyesight focused once again and she found herself looking beneath the bed. There was no sound, save for her breathing. Precisely in the middle of the otherwise bare floorboards was a box. Clamminess enveloped her hands and feet as she contemplated its contents.
It was safe to rule out childhood mementos.
Footsteps creaked on the hardwood and she turned her head so that her gaze rested on the ceiling.
“You poor thing.” Dr. Merino lounged against the doorframe. “Did I make you sick? I’ll use a lighter hand with the spice next time.”
She clutched her stomach even though the discomfort from moments earlier had passed. Sickness provided a plausible cover for lying on his bedroom floor.
“The food was amazing, really. Please don’t feel like this,” Kenna gestured to her body, “is your fault. I wasn’t feeling that great before I came over. When finals roll around, I neglect my basic needs.”
“I’ll make you some tea. Why don’t you try the bed? I promise it’s more comfortable than the floor.”
Though it was beyond foolish, she accepted Dr. Merino’s invitation and settled in on the right side of the bed, burrowing under the covers. A quiet excitement overtook her at being wrapped in the same sheets that held him every night. She inhaled the floral lavender of the detergent and the woodsy scent that was a testament to all of the time he spent running—and, apparently, gardening.
Juniper paint coated the walls and gave the room a soothing ambiance. Kenna immediately cast her attention elsewhere upon spying the reflection in the full-length mirror and catching sight of the little box under the bed. The satchel he carried to campus was tucked to the side of a mahogany dresser, above which hung a collection of framed photographs, each of the same boy and girl at different stages of life. Playing in a backyard. Painted faces on Halloween. Then they were older, donned in business casual clothes. Smiles tugged at their mouths in every shot. She assumed the girl was his sister but they’d scarcely spoken of their families.
He returned through the doorway with a steaming mug in hand. “Chocolate mint for the non-tea drinker. It’s pretty mild. The mint will help your stomach.”
“Thank you.”
The flavor was lackluster but she continued sipping the tea for its alleged curative properties.
Dr. Merino perched beside her on the edge of the bed. His palms came to rest on his thighs. “I’d say you could stay here and sleep it off but tomorrow’s Monday. We both have our roles to fill.”
