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Back at the hotel, I pace the length of the penthouse, cell phone clenched tightly in my fist. I have her number; I can call her. I glance at the time. Three in the morning is an asinine time to call her. I know that, yet the urge to do so is alarmingly high.
I can’t get the thought of her out to dinner with another man out of my head. Hell, I don’t even know if it was an actual date, or even someone of the opposite sex. I stopped in my tracks. Shit. What if she’s bi and I have to compete twice as much?
How is it my mind has flittered away from the depressing images of death, to fucking her until she’s passed out from exhaustion? I’d much rather those images, but both are obsessive. Both are going to cause destruction, both lead to no sleep.
I chew on the inside of my lip, debating how the fuck I can get a handle on this situation. I glance at the tattoos covering my bare body. If I can’t distract myself with a scene, then I usually do it with pain. I’m running out of space for ink, though.
Kat, my tattoo artist, is used to hearing from me at odd hours. I’ve never fucked her, always kept it professional, and I pay her well. She could be here in thirty minutes, find some sliver of my body that can hide beneath the suits I wear, to ink. I’d get the fix I need to calm my overactive mind. I’ll give her an extra tip to make it worth her while, and I won’t wake up Samira by being a crazed person. It’d be a win-win-win.
“Fuck it,” I mumble, dialing Kat.
Chapter Ten
Heattravelsupmyspine, the invasion of a horrible memory holding me hostage. My bare feet remain glued to the cold tile of the kitchen floor. Warm fingers snake around my body, gliding against the frigid temperature of my stomach.
“Would be a shame to kill her and let this body go to waste,” the man said, his hot breath against my cheek.
I moved my face away, hating that I let them see my tears. I couldn’t stop them, though. Couldn’t stop what would happen next.
“Sammy?” Veronica calls. Her fingers snap in front of me.
I see her; I hear her, but I can’t force myself to respond.
“What do you want?” I asked between deep breaths. “M-m-money? It’s in the s-s-safe.”
The one in front of me laughed, his blue eyes watching me intently. Neither of them wore masks, and I knew they would kill me. Their faces were too distinct. One with a scar over his right eye, the other with a tattoo on his neck.
I would die after they did whatever they wanted to me.
“Sammy, honey.” Veronica holds onto either side of my shoulders, shaking me.
I still can’t shake away from it. Not until I relive the end.
“Let go of her!” Ian shouted.
The one holding me didn’t, though. It only made him press the knife against my neck harder, drawing a bead of blood from me. My body shook, and the gunshot went off. The man in front of me fell to the ground.
Curses and more gunshots flung through the room. The pressure of the metal on my throat left, and he lunged, plunging the blade into Ian’s stomach. Then he ran, sliding into the puddle of blood on the floor. And Ian, my Ian . . . the life draining from his shining blue eyes.
I gasp, doubling over while I struggle to catch the air in my lungs. My heart aches from working at hyper speed.
Veronica rubs my back. “It’s okay. It’s not real,” she whispers.
Except it is real. It’s the most real thing to ever happen to me. And I’ll never stop reliving it. Sometimes I can go weeks without it haunting me, but the memories always come back. I’m not always sure what triggers it. Today it was dropping the flower vase. The ear-piercing shatter of glass made my heart stop and my brain shut off.
I need to make time for self-defense classes again—they’ve always been something that helps curb the lack of control I have when this happens.
“Jesus, Sam. I’ve never seen you so far gone before.” Veronica drops her phone into her pocket. “I was about to call 9-1-1 and everything.”
I stand upright, cheeks heating with embarrassment. “God, no. Please. . .just, never do that.” I force a soft laugh past my lips.
She guides me to the kitchenette, settling me onto the bench. Her hand squeezes the back of my neck. “That was bad, Sam. I’ve never seen it so. . .” Veronica shivers, shaking her head. She hurries to the fridge to get me a glass of water and some Advil. “You’re not sleeping again, are you?”
I shake my head, accepting the pills
“You need to. They’re always worse when you don’t sleep.” Veronica hurries to the mess on the floor, sweeping up shards of glass.
“I know. I’m just stressed. This will be their first visit back to the farm since—”God. I shouldn’t make them go.
