Chapter 4
CILLA
Sleeping in a hospital sucked.
Especially when someone poked at me every two hours or so. At least I was pretty sure it was two hours. Time didn’t have a whole lot of meaning in this place and every time I woke, my heart hammered out of my chest, and I couldn’t remember where I was.
They swapped bags on the IV stand near the head of my bed.
Thankfully, they took off the connectors to the big monitor sometime after the sun rose.
Now it was just the ever-present rolling cart with a different nurse each time.
They took my temperature and used the stupid cuff of destruction on my arm for blood pressure.
I didn’t know how they got a correct reading with my fear response on max.
But I must have passed somehow since they did their checklist with a bored, performative smile. They checked my eyes and asked me questions about where I was, who the president was, and what year it was.
It had been a little difficult to think, but evidently I’d answered correctly because they left me alone only to repeat the process a few times through the night.
In between the nightmares.
Disjointed and dark. The scent of water, the flash of pain, and long stretches of nothing followed by an intense pressure. Two men. The faces kept morphing over one another.
I wasn’t sure which was which.
I vaguely remembered someone in my room in between the doctors.
It was hazy and undefined.
Nothing seemed exactly real.
I traced the angry red abrasions down my wrist and arms then slowly touched my throat. I winced and reached for my water with a shaking hand. My throat had been on fire the whole night, every time I woke it was as if I’d chewed down a shard of glass. Had I screamed?
It felt like I screamed and screamed forever.
I finished the cup, then reached for the little pitcher and sloshed more cool water into the cup.
Annoyed at how shaky I was, I concentrated until the stream of water trickled steadily into the opening. Of course, drinking just made me have to pee. Like right now.
I tapped the button for a nurse.
I managed to swing my legs off the side, letting my feet dangle while I waited. My left thigh felt tight and not all the way there at the same time. I could only imagine what it looked like and every bit of it made me want to tug my gown down to my ankles and hide.
A sweet natured black man hustled into the room. He’d been tending to me since a protein milkshake had appeared on the table sometime that morning. I had a feeling the ICU didn’t get food trays on the regular. “Priscilla, you’re not to try this alone yet.”
“I know, but when you gotta go, you gotta go, Theo.”
He laughed.
“I’m not going in a bedpan, thanks.”
“They’re not so bad.”
“Your equipment is a little easier to deal with than mine.”
He chuckled. “Fair. Okay, let’s see how you stand.”
I held onto his shoulders as I put weight on my feet. At least I was pretty sure there was a foot down there.
“This is going to be a lot harder once the nerve block wears off this afternoon.”
“Harder than this? Great.” I laughed as I swayed a little. “I’m afraid to look to be honest.”
“You have inner stitches as well as outer staples to help keep it together.”
“That sounds…unpleasant.”
He huffed out a laugh, but his grip firmed until the floor felt more secure under me. He smiled kindly down at me. “Great job.”
“Thanks. My mother gave me very cute feet. Glad I can use them.”
“I prefer you to my other patient down the hall.” Theo pitched his voice low. “Way funnier.”
I grinned. “Okay, let’s do this before my eyeballs float.”
We slowly shuffled toward the room across from my bed. When I got to the handrails beside the toilet, I waved him off. “I’m good from here.”
He rolled his eyes. “Let me get you inside at least. That tile is unforgiving.”
“Fine.” I held onto his forearms as we shuffled along. And he was right, the world tipped a few times in those few steps.
Once we got to the commode, he put my hand on the railing. “I’ll be outside. Call out if you need me.”
“I’m fine.” Fine was relative and it seemed way harder to do my business at this point, but I did it. I used the wall rails to get to the small sink and stared in horror at the image in the mirror.
I swayed once, but caught myself on the edge of the sink. The dark circles under my eyes were bad enough but the wide red marks on my neck made my eyes fill. It wasn’t one mark, more like it had been done time and time again. Just a little different each time.
I shut my eyes and swayed.
The door opened and Theo came up behind me. “Okay, let’s get you back to bed.”
I blinked away the tears. “I’m good.”
“You don’t want me to get in trouble with the charge nurse do you?”
I sighed and nodded, letting him take most of my weight as I hobbled back into the room. Exhaustion hit as I sat on the edge of my bed.
“Okay, let’s just ease these up.” He gently lifted my blue socked feet, swinging my legs back into the bed. He tucked the blankets around me then helped me shift my body up on the bed until I collapsed against the pillows.
“I feel like all I’ve done is sleep.”
“Well, you did lose a lot of blood. Your body is still trying to recover and make some more of those red blood cells to make you feel strong again.”
“Don’t sound so logical.”
“You know I’m right.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I sighed.
He straightened the pillow under my head and one under my side. “Try and sleep.”
“You guys don’t let me sleep,” I muttered.
Theo huffed out a laugh. “Once we get you off the ICU you won’t get poked at so much.”
“When do I get out of here?”
“The doctor will be doing their rounds soon.”
My eyes felt heavy. “Will they wake me if I’m asleep?”
“I’ll leave a note.”
“Okay,” I said with a murmured sigh.
The next thing I knew the sun was a helluva lot lower in the window. I rubbed at my eyes until the wall clock came into focus. No way I was conscious when the doctors came around.
My stomach growled and my bladder made itself known again.
I hit the button for the nurse. This one a surly brunette woman who was no-nonsense.
“How are you feeling?” She bustled in with one of the rolling carts.
“I have to use the bathroom.”
She nodded. “All right. Can I take your vitals first?”
“I don’t think so.”
She nodded and adjusted the bed. My thigh burned and pain bloomed.
“Your block is probably wearing off.”
I gritted my teeth. “You don’t say.”
“Can you sit up? Or would you like the bedpan?”
I moved my leg and I cried out. The throb and tear of what had to be the staples had me hissing out a breath. Tears pricked and the room swam.
“Okay, let’s try the bedpan.”
I cringed through the indignity, but there was no way I’d have made it to the toilet. I was a shaking heap a few moments later and any hunger urge had slid away to nausea from the pain. She must have put something into my IV and I quickly slid under into a cotton batting hug of drugs.
When I surfaced again, the room was dim, and a man sat in a chair beside me.
I blinked slowly until his uniform pants and vest registered. “Hello?”
He sat up, dragging the chair toward my bed. “Miss Barlow.”
I swallowed. “Cilla,” I rasped.
He stood and disappeared from view, coming back with a cup and a straw.
I took a grateful sip before pushing the cup away with a whispered, “thanks.”
“Do you need the nurse?”
I glanced at the IV, longing for oblivion as the pain came in waves, then winced at the new addition of some sort of catheter under my bedclothes. I wasn’t sure which was worse, but at least there was a level of protection there. I shook my head.
“Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not, but I need answers.”
“So do I.”
I shifted on my bed and drew in a steadying breath as the pain ebbed. “Where am I?”
“North Shore Hospital.”
“Am I still in Salem?”
He nodded. “I’m Dete—Officer Stone with the Salem, PD.”
I frowned at the correction, but the fuzz in my brain made it difficult to grasp on anything he said.
“What are you doing in Salem? Are you relocating? Vacationing?”
“Vacationing, I guess.” I swallowed down against the tightening in my throat. “Traveling.”
Running from my old life. My old problems.
Into new ones.
My eyelids felt heavy, but I blinked harder to keep him in focus.
“We couldn’t find your cell phone. Is there someone we should call for you?”
I frowned. “My phone?”
It was everything. All of my information. All of a sudden a flash of the pier had me gasping a breath as the fear and the pain scrambled my thoughts.
“Miss Barlow?”
I couldn’t breathe. The memories gripping me so hard that the panic hit me like a wave. Sweat poured down my back, along my temples as I ripped at my neck.
“Priscilla?” He fumbled for something on my bed.
I turned toward the voice of the officer. He seemed so far away. His voice was hazy and vague.
The next thing I knew there were muffled voices near the door and hands on me as they pushed me back. Checking my blood pressure and then the soft darkness swirled up again.
My breathing evened and I watched the officer step out of the way before I retreated back to sleep.
To safety.
To the softness. I floated there for a while. I wasn’t sure how long, but it was peaceful and warm.
Until those eyes stared down at me.
The black eyes of the man who’d done this to me. The smile, sinister and stretched wide with teeth so white it made me shiver. Was I dreaming?
I frowned at the dark cord in his hands.
“Your pretty neck was so much better with my rope.”
I tried to shift away.
Not a dream. I tried to shake off the blackness. He leaned over me, lifting my head to slip the cord around me. “This will have to do.”
“No.”
The words were little more than a whisper. Adrenaline pushing back the drugs they’d given me. “No!”
His dark eyes were different this time. Not black this time. I pushed at him with all my might, but the leather of his gloves protected him from my nails. I pushed him back enough to get a scream out.
The cord tightened and he just smiled. That twisted pleasure made me fight harder. The crash of something behind him had him let me free.
I gasped, my fingers pulling at the cord around my neck. My scream rending the air as the man swung around and pushed my tray at him, then grabbed my IV pole, wrenching the IV out of my arm as blood spurted across my sheets.
The man swung the pole at the cop’s head, and he crashed to the ground. The man looked back at me for a hot second, his face an ugly mask of hate before he disappeared into my bathroom.
I fumbled for my call button, but nurses crowded in a moment later.
The cord tangled in whatever knot he’d done, and I couldn’t get it off. I struggled against the hands from the nurses and the chaos faded as a needle sunk into my arm and I slumped back. The last thing I saw was the cop trying to struggle to his feet.
The man was gone.
My fingers clawed at my neck.
Then nothing.