Stolen Read Free Page A

tried pushing myself to the edge of the bed, away from you, but my arms weren’t strong enough. They shook, and then collapsed me into the sheets. The blood was pumping through me, though. I could almost hear my body start to flow and wake up. I tried my voice, managed a whimper. My mouth was against the pillowcase. I heard you somewhere, taking a step.
    “Your clothes are beside the bed.”
    I flinched at your voice. Where were you? How close? I opened my eyes a little. It didn’t hurt too much. Next to the bed, a new pair of jeans was neatly folded on a wooden chair. My coat wasn’t there. Neither were my shoes. Instead, underneath the chair was a brown pair of leather boots. Lace-up and sensible. Not mine.
    I could hear you taking steps, coming toward me. I tried curling up, tried to get away. Everything was heavy. Slow. But my brain was working and my heart was racing. I was in a bad place. I knew that much. I didn’t know how I’d got there. I didn’t know what you’d done to me.
    I heard the floorboards creak a couple more times, the sound shooting adrenaline into my veins. A pair of light brown cargo pants stopped in front of me. My eyes were level with the material between your knees and crotch, level with the reddish dirt stains there. You didn’t say anything. I heard my breathing getting faster. I gripped the sheet. I forced my eyes to look up. I didn’t stop until I reached your face. My breath faltered for a second then. I don’t know why, but I’d half expected you to be someone else. I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
    Your face was blank. Those blue eyes seemed cold. Your lips thin. I pulled the sheet up as far as I could, leaving only my eyes uncovered, watching you. The rest of me was stiff and frozen. You stood there, waiting for me to speak, waiting for the questions. When they didn’t come, you answered anyway.
    “I brought you here,” you said. “You feel sick because of the effects of the drugs. You’ll feel weird for a while … shallow breathing, vertigo, nausea, hallucinations …”
    Your face was spinning as you spoke. I shut my eyes. There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars. I could hear you shuffling toward me. Getting closer. I tried my voice.
    “Why?” I whispered.
    “I had to take you.”
    The bed creaked and my body rose a little as you sat down on the mattress. I dragged myself away. I tried pushing my legs to the floor, but still they wouldn’t go. The whole world seemed to turn around me. I was going to slide off. I pointed my head away and expected to be sick at any moment. It didn’t come. I hugged my legs toward me. My chest was too tight for crying.
    “Where am I?”
    You paused before answering. I heard you take a breath, then sigh it out. Your clothing rustled as you changed your position. I realized then that I couldn’t hear any other sounds, anywhere, other than yours.
    “You’re here,” you said. “You’re safe.”

     
    I don’t know how much longer I slept. It’s really hazy, this period, like a twisted kind of nightmare. I think you gave me food at some point, made me drink. You didn’t wash me, though. I know that because when I woke again, I stank. I was sweaty and damp and my T-shirt stuck to me. I needed to pee, too.
    I lay there, listening. My ears were straining to hear something. But it was silent. Weirdly so. There wasn’t even the creak and shuffle of you. There was no sound of people at all. No traffic noises. No distant hum of a highway. No trains rumbling. Nothing. There was just that room. Just the heat.
    I tested my body, cautiously lifting one leg and then the other, wriggling my toes. My limbs didn’t feel so heavy this time. I was more awake. As quietly as I could, I pushed