“I do. But chances are, you won’t like it.” He shifts on his feet, and that’s the only cue I’m given that I obviously really won’t like wherever she is.
This must not be good.
I straighten, the hairs rising on my body. “And why the fuck not?”
“Because her parents sent her to a mental institution. That’s where she’s being held.”
“Fuck!” I grip the first thing I can find and launch it at the wall, watching as it shatters. The remnants of my drink slide down the wall along with the broken crystal. My chest heaves as I work to control the rage that’s suddenly burning through every orifice in my body.
“How long?” When he doesn’t reply, I turn, glaring at him. “How long has she been there?”
He sighs. “She was sent there a few days after the accident.”
I walk to the window in my office, looking out at the resort below. There are people milling about. Vacationers. People with certainly less problems than I have at this moment. Heat rolls through my chest in waves, making me feel like I’m breathing fire. I’m feeling too much all at once, and I don’t know what to do with it or how to feel.
“I want everything you have on this place. Where is it, who’s running it, whose care she’s under.”
“You got it, boss.”
I wake sometime in the night, a sharp pang shooting through my hip at the position I’ve been sleeping in. Without the bars there for support, my body is in a whole new world of pain. I shift, letting out a groan, and allow my eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room. My heart lurches, and I startle when I see a dark shadow move by the door. I tense, my entire body filling with ice.
I blink rapidly, trying to acclimate to the darkness in the room. My heart is pounding so hard, I half expect it to tear out of my chest cavity. Sweat beads on my forehead, and the blood rushes through my ears deafeningly.
“Dr. Aster?” I whisper.
There’s a chuckle—one that sends a shiver of dread down my spine.
No.
He’s not here. This has to be a dream. A nightmare.
I must say the words out loud, without realizing it, because there’s another dark chuckle, and by the time he reaches the side of my bed and clamps a rough hand over my mouth to stifle my screams, my vision has adjusted, and I know I’m no longer dreaming. Zach truly is here. In the flesh.
He’s glaring down at me, a wicked gleam in his eyes, as he takes in my battered body. His hair hangs out of his bun, shadowing his face. “You really must have a guardian angel on your side, don’t you? You just never fucking die.”
My whimper is muffled beneath his hand. Tears leak down my face, rolling down my temples and into my hair. Fear has seized my body. It’s clawing at my chest, lodging a lump in my throat that makes it impossible to cry out. Not that anyone would hear me.
“You think you’re safe here, Mackenzie? Think again. I’m going to make your life hell. I’m going to make you wish you were you dead. That’s a promise.” He moves so quickly I can’t even stop him from what he does next. He rips one of the pillows from beneath my head and slams it over my face. I panic, trying to suck in air, but the pillow clogs my mouth and my airway. I thrash on the bed and try yelling for help, but the suffocating material muffles it. I feel a sudden pressure in my abdomen, and I gasp, spasming on the bed at the way Zach is pressing on the wound. The wound Vincent caused by stabbing me.
I choke on my pain, my tears and snot, and the pillow blocking my airway have that black tunnel racing toward me. I try to fight it, but it swallows me in a fit of panic, until I can feel nothing at all.
When I come to the next morning, my eyes spring open, but only darkness surrounds me. I try to suck in air, but I feel a soft weight on my face. Panicking, the events of last night slam into me, and I use my free hand to feel around and pull whatever it is off my face.
My heart stalls, and my stomach churns when the pillow moves off my face easily. My chest wracks with a sob, and I cry out, thinking about last night, knowing it was real. He was in here. He was in here and damn-near suffocated me with a fucking pillow!
I dart my gaze around the room, looking for help, checking to see if he’s still here. I’m alone. I glance up at the ceiling, hoping there’s a camera in here, something that can show he tried to kill me. I need proof. Something tangible I can use against him. Because if I don’t do something, he’s going to kill me.
Costas was right. I’m in more danger than I thought. The enemy wasn’t all that far. He’s here.
I must be sobbing a lot louder than I expected because the door is suddenly thrown open and in run Gary, a nurse I’ve never seen before, and Stephanie. Her eyes are wide, panic written all over her face.
“Ms. Wright, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
I pound at my chest with my free hand through my sobs, trying to get the words out, but they don’t come. They’re stuck in my throat, refusing to escape. One of the nurses says something into a walkie, and in the distance, I hear pounding footsteps while I have a panic attack. The blood is roaring in my ears, making the noises in the room fade, and all I can seem to focus on is the fact that my chest is tightening, restricting air. My vision blurs. Faces blend as they close in on me.
Dr. Aster’s face comes into view. She’s saying something, her lips moving, her eyes panicked while she looks down at me.
“H-he’s here,” I manage to get out, between my panting and sobbing. She motions for something behind her, and next thing I know, an oxygen mask is being placed over my mouth and nose to help me breathe.
I close my eyes, waiting for the pain in my chest to subside. I don’t know how long I sit like that, but after some time, the restricting sensation in my lungs dissipates, and I’m able to suck in a large breath. Slowly, I blink my eyes open, my heartbeat returning to normal and the roaring in my ears settling just enough that I’m able to hear what’s happening around me.
“Mackenzie? Can you hear me?” Dr. Aster asks, her face coming back into view. I jerk my chin, the indication that I can hear her. “Can you breathe on your own?”
I nod again, and she pulls the mask off, handing it off to one of the handful of nurses that are hovering.
“What happened just now? You said, ‘he was here.’ Who were you talking about?”
A hot tear rolls down my cheek and my chin trembles with emotion. “Zach Covington. He’s here. He was in my room last night. He tried to kill me!”
She jerks back at my words as if I slapped her. “Mackenzie, that’s impossible. Are you sure this wasn’t some kind of…dream?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” I grit. “He put a pillow over my fucking face to suffocate me!”
She presses her lips together, looking unconvinced. An unsettling inkling lingers at the base of my spine as I glare at her.
“We had a long talk yesterday. I think that messed with your dreams last night. I can assure you no one is after you. Why don’t we get some food in your system, and we’ll go over this dream later.”
I grind my back teeth together so hard, I swear I feel my back tooth crack from the force.
My throat goes dry when she whispers something in hushed tones to the nurses then slips out of the room. Gary and Stephanie stay behind, but everyone else leaves. Keeping her word, my breakfast is delivered, but I sit there, staring at it, my stomach churning. I can’t think about eating when Zach was just here. If he’s here, the rest of them aren’t far behind.