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I want to cry, but more than that, I want to sleep. My body is too heavy, and I can’t fight, not like this.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I whisper.
I don’t know what he says, or if he answers me at all.
My strength gives out and I collapse on the floor at his feet.
___
Thirsty.
I’m so fucking thirsty.
I’m aware of it even before I’m fully awake, caught in a haze between reality and a dreamless sleep, but searching for water all the same.
My head pounds. My mouth is so dry. I’m disoriented and nothing feels right.
Where am I?
Somewhere soft, but this doesn’t feel like my bed. I shift and luxurious silk moves across my bare skin.
My bare skin.
I don’t sleep naked.
I don’t have silk sheets, either. A silk pillowcase to prevent my hair from getting too crazy, but not sheets.
I shift again and feel the cool silk pressed against my skin. It feels nice. So does the thick, plushy blanket draped on top of me.
This bed feels like heaven. So soft, so luxurious. I want to stay in it forever.
I turn and curl into the comfort, but something niggles at the back of my mind. Something urgent that tells me I shouldn’t, that I need to get out of the bed and do something…
Horror clears away some of the fog when it hits me—I’m naked in a strange bed.
Why? Where was I?
Then it all starts to flood back in.
The picture isn’t clear—each splintered memory is a broken shard I have to piece together. The dinner. Calvin. The twisted things he said to me as he waited for the strength to leave my drugged body.
My drugged body.
Oh, God.
The room is dark, so it must be night. I turn my head and start to sit up, but as soon as I do, pain throbs around my temples, making me so lightheaded I immediately lie back down.
The bed moves beside me. I turn my aching head and see Calvin lying there on his side of the bed. The blanket covering me up to my breasts is only draped across his hips, leaving his entire upper body exposed.
Hisnakedupper body.
He’s naked.
And so am I.
In his bed.
I can’t remember anything. The last thing I remember is dancing with him, then I have a foggy recollection of crawling toward the gallery, trying to escape.
