Chapter 6
CILLA
Detective Miranda Diaz was intense.
She was pacing inside my room, her voice low as she spoke into her phone. Even with her obvious agitation, I felt better with her in the room with me.
The curtain fluttered and I jumped.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
New terror unlocked. I didn’t think anything could have been as bad as the docks, but seeing him looming over me with a smile that didn’t make sense. Garish, inhuman teeth.
I shut my eyes and tried to make sense of the nightmare. The teeth had been wrong.
I frowned. A mask of some sort? It seemed as if it was part of his hood.
Maybe something for runners in the winter?
I couldn’t figure it out. I’d been asleep, high on whatever they’d given me for the pain and then all I could remember was no air. He’d been so strong. Insanely strong.
Not black eyes this time. Which was it? Was my imagination adding to it?
Was I freaking losing it?
My fingers shook as I pushed my hair out of my face.
How had he gotten by the guard outside my door?
“Miss Barlow?”
My eyes snapped open at the detective’s voice. “Yes,” I croaked.
Her dark eyes hardened as she stuffed her phone into her blazer pocket. “I wanted to apologize. There’s no excuse for what happened, but it was a series of unfortunate events that culminated in—”
“How did he get in?” I coughed. My throat was ravaged from two separate attempts to strangle me. I reached for my cup of water and the detective pushed it toward me. I nodded my thanks as I took a few drinks. “You said you’d protect me.”
Her face went blank. “We truly thought it was an isolated event.”
“Then why did I have a guard to begin with?” I whispered.
Her jaw tightened. “It was a precaution.”
“Can you give me any details about the man who attacked you? Was it the same man?”
“It had to be.”
“But was it?”
I slumped down on my bed, pulling the pillow from my side out to hug. “I can’t remember. It was dark on the wharf ,and he came at me from behind. Knocked me out for...I don’t even know how long.” I shut my eyes, and the pier came back in Technicolor clarity.
Running.
I’d been almost afraid to look at him.
“I just remember really high cheekbones. He was wearing a hood of some sort. Like he was deliberately putting his face in shadows. But his eyes were”—I opened my own and met the detective’s gaze—“black. But not just black, like the whole eye was black.”
The detective’s face softened. “You were rightfully terrified. Maybe you are misremembering.”
“No. I know it doesn’t make sense, but they were black. But this time, they weren’t. Whatever they put in my IV for the pain had me fuzzy. He had a mask, but I remember his eyes.” I pulled the pillow up to my chin. “Light colored eyes. Gray, I think or a really light blue.”
“Nothing else? Was he white? Black? Mixed race?”
“White.” That much I could tell. “I was asleep then...” My words were muffled through the pillow. Then he was choking me with something. Not rope this time.
I frowned.
“It wasn’t a rope,” I said shakily.
Detective Diaz shook her head. “He used the cord from one of the machines. We bagged it, but I don’t think we’re going to find prints. The officer on your door thinks he was wearing gloves. Unfortunately he didn’t get a good luck and has a concussion.”
“Is he okay?”
She nodded. “He will be. He’s just not a lot of help. I was hoping you would have more details.”
My eyes stung. “I was asleep. At first, I—” I broke off as a cough rattled through me. My throat felt tighter somehow.
“Okay, that’s enough.” A nurse bustled in. “Priscilla needs her rest. She shouldn’t even be talking to you. Her throat was damaged twice within a short time.”
The detective looked annoyed, but she nodded. “I’ll be back in the morning, Miss Barlow. We have an officer on the door with another rotating to make sure there’s never a moment without a guard for the night.”
My eyes stung as a few tears leaked down my temples.
“I promise, no one will get in here tonight.”
I nodded.
The nurse checked my IV and pushed a syringe into the line. “This will help with the swelling since we don’t want you trying to take a pill right now. And with the pain.”
I sighed as the room grew hazy.
I didn’t really want any more drugs, but the floating was preferable to the nerves and fear. As I slipped under, the gray eyes followed me.
Chased me.
The sounds of my feet pounding on the wooden planks echoed in the darkness. Water slapped against the piles that held up the dock. It sounded impossibly close and far at the same time. One wrong step and I’d fall into the blackness.
Wouldn’t it be better to slip under the water?
Away from the pain.
Away from the grasping hands and the rough rope that snaked up my wrists. It wrapped around me and climbed higher to my neck. I wanted to pull it free, but I couldn’t move. It was like a snake, tightening with every movement.
My arms were under the bindings.
My fingers were useless.
I slipped away.
The lapping water growing louder.
“I like it better when you struggle.”
I sat up and gasped, my fingers ripping at my throat. Then the pain had me crying out.
The rattle of the door sounded, and a short, rounded man came out of the dark followed by a nurse.
“Ma’am?” the cop asked.
The nurse pushed him aside and rushed to my bedside. “Priscilla? Are you in pain?”
I hissed as my thigh throbbed as much as my head. I was fuzzy with the adrenaline surge from the nightmare and the drugs free flowing through my veins.
The nurse pulled back my sheets and quickly left me to go to a cabinet.
I gasped at the blood flowing from between my legs.
“You’re fine, you just moved too much. Let’s get you patched up.” She lifted the little receiver clipped to her scrubs. “Can I get a little help in room eleven?”
“I can help,” came a voice through the speaker.
“Thanks. Grab the on call if you can.”
“On it.”
“Okay, just sit back Priscilla.” She looked over her shoulder at the cop. “She’s fine. You can go back to your post.”
“Are you sure? I can help.”
She shook her head. “We’re fine.”
Were we?
I wasn’t so sure.
I lifted my hips and shifted as pain and blood coated my inner thigh.
“Don’t move, please.” She held my leg, but it was too late. Deep red bloomed under the dressing and the room darkened as the loss of blood reacted to the meds as the adrenaline seeped out of me like the blood.
“Stay with me, Priscilla.”
My eyes grew heavy.
“I need a doctor,” the nurse said sharply.
Then I went under again.
The blackness felt safe.
So safe.