Page 6 of Temptation
What the hell happened, and where am I?
With a groan, I squeeze my eyes shut again and press my palms against my forehead, trying desperately to block out the dizzying spin of the room and the maddening dance of tiny sparks of light dancing across my vision.
Shit.
I draw in a sharp breath as my fingers brush against a bandage on my forehead. Even the lightest touch sends a fresh jolt of pain through my already pounding skull, intensifying my headacheeven more. Pushing against the pain, I grit my teeth and force myself to sit up. The groan that tears from my throat sounds distant and unfamiliar as I summon every last scrap of energy to remain upright, my body swaying precariously.
Blinking rapidly, I try to bring my blurry surroundings into focus but they remain hazy shapes and splashes of color. The harder I try to concentrate, the more I seem to fan the flames of the burning agony in my head. With each blink my breathing grows shallower. A strange tingling sensation begins to seep from my fingertips, spreading like ice water through my veins.
My breath hitches as a massive wave of panic threatens to overwhelm me, fueled by the disjointed images flashing across my mind’s eye, pushing through the dark fog of amnesia.
St. Anne’s. My classroom.
Maddy and Flynn.
A man with a mask.
The barrel of a gun.
The cold steel pressed against my temple.
Icy blue eyes.
Fabrizio Moretti.
The name echoes in my mind, heavy with dread and sinister foreboding. The realization jolts me awake for the second time in mere minutes, and as the heavy haze clouding my brain slowly lifts, the circumstances of this very reality threaten to crush me beneath their suffocating weight.
As a jolt of fear courses through every fiber of my being, the dull throbbing in my head recedes, replaced by adrenaline that gives me the strength to stagger out of bed. My legs tremble beneath me, and I cling to the bedframe for support, forcing myself to take slow, measured breaths. Only when I trust my unsteady legs to hold me upright do I take the few tentative steps to the door.
There’s a slight tremble in my hand as it closes around the cold metal handle. My knuckles whiten with tension as I twist and pull, then twist and push. But no matter how hard I try, the door refuses to budge. A wry smile twists my lips.
Did I really think it would?
Knowing who most likely put me here, did I really think I could just walk out of here on my own terms?
For a moment, I entertain the idea of pounding my fists against the solid wood and demanding my release, but I know it would be pointless. I’d most likely just exhaust myself, worsen the pounding in my head, and whoever might hear me would probably not come to my aid anyway.
I am trapped.
The question is, where exactly? And why?
With a defeated sigh, I turn my back to the door, leaning against it for support as I drag in a shaky breath.
I force myself to scan the room, just to do something, anything, to distract me from the rising tide of panic threatening to engulf me.
My gaze drifts from the plush, cream-colored carpet that feels soft beneath my bare feet to the luxurious, king-sized bed I woke up in just minutes before. The linens of the softest cotton against my skin and the silk pillows spread in a crumpled mess all over the bed. I continue to take in the sleek nightstand; then onward to the imposing, eight-drawer dresser to the chaise lounge nestled in a corner, until my eyes come to rest on a door I hadn’t initially noticed. An ensuite bathroom, most likely.
Every piece of furniture in this room screams opulence and elegance as each is perfectly tuned to the other.
Just when I’ve managed to somewhat calm my racing thoughts, the sound of heavy footsteps echoes through the hallway, growing louder.
The deep, unfamiliar voice I heard for the first time in my classroom only hours ago now rings in my ears again.
Was it just hours ago? Or has more time passed already?
I’m completely disoriented. What day is it? What time? How long have I been out?
Every effort to calm down is nullified in an instant, replaced by a fresh wave of panic.
