Page 11 of Fever Dream
The minute he draws near enough, my knee shoots up, catching him in the ballsack. All that predatory air leaving his lungs is music to my ears. And as he folds in on himself like a cheap lawn chair my hand dives into his pocket, bringing out a small plastic baggie of pills.
He’s still doubled over when I dump them out in front of him. They scatter across the floor like hail during a summer storm. Small white tablets bouncing across the concrete surface. It’s loud around the pool, but I swear every tick of them landing rings out like a gunshot.
Wide eyes and shocked murmurs spread like wildfire through the crowd as everyone pieces together the woman slumped in my arms with the man surrounded by pills. A couple of girls announce that they’re going to get ship security, and I give them a stern nod as my thanks.
“Let’s get you to the doctor,” I tell Julia, but it’s only when a soft tapping lands on the side of my neck that I glance back down. The pad of Julia’s finger is featherlight against my skin, like she can barely muster the energy.
“No doctor. Just get me out.” She breathes the words faintly, but I hear her loud and clear. And as much as I’d like to stick around to kick the guy in the face while he’s down, Julia is losing consciousness against me—something I know she would never willingly do.
So instead of seeking vengeance, I honor her wishes and scoop her limp body up into my arms, turning away from the confrontation.
Her small purple purse, still slung across her body by a dainty gold chain, taps against my leg with each step as I move across the ship. She’s altogether too damn heavy to give me any senseof relief. Instead, I carry her to my room with an overwhelming sense of terror.
All I know is that she asked me to get her out.
So I do.
CHAPTER 5
Julia
Two years ago…
IWAKE WITH Astart, my awareness slamming back into me as I shoot up to sitting. It’s almost physical, like getting plugged into an electrical socket and coming back to life in the blink of an eye.
I wipe at my heavy eyelids as I turn my stiff neck to take in my surroundings. It’s bright, full sun. I’m sitting on a bed, surrounded by a room that looks like mine. But isn’t. A red suitcase sits in the corner, with a pair of men’s swim trunks draped over the top.
Swim trunks I do not recognize. I’ve spent a couple of days this week hanging by the pool with a guy named Jesse and his group of friends, but I don’t think I’ve seen any of them wear hot pink trunks.
Alarm courses through me as my heart rate ratchets up and tears spring to my eyes. I came on this cruise with my mom for a fun getaway over Christmas. She’s been single for a long time, and it’s an all-ages cruise so I told her I’d come with her in case all the guys her age sucked. Then we’d turn it into a girls’ week in the Caribbean. Aside from that, my plan was to zone out, read, and catch up on some sleep.
I’ve been working at the local ice cream shop several shifts per weekandattending university full-time. But now I’ve finally completed the final semester of my undergrad at Emerald Lake University. My master’s program begins in January, so this was my last chance to rest before the intensity of school kicks back in.
I just wanted to escape the snow, and this seemed like a fun option.
But this isnotfun. I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, and I’m freaked out.
Actually, no. I’m beyond freaked out.
I’m twenty-three, and suddenly, all I want is my mom.
Looking down, I realize I’m wearing my bathing suit with a towel wrapped around my body. The sheets are vaguely damp.
My breath comes more quickly, palms slapping the bedding around me in a desperate search for my phone and small crossbody purse. I scramble out from under the sheets, checking over the bedside table where my sunglasses are folded neatly.
Kneeling on a bed, in a stranger’s room, I place one hand over my chest and close my eyes, forcing myself to take a deep breath to replace the frantic, shallow ones.
I was at the pool bar.
With Jesse and his friends.
My mom went on a date.
We planned to meet back in our room.
I saw that sewer rat, Emmett Bush, across the bar.
I thanked my lucky stars I hadn’t run into him earlier.
