Two months.
Two months without Storm.
Two months in this sleepy little mountain town I’ve come to both love and loath.
As much as I love it here, something doesn’t feel right. I can’t put my finger on it, but the more time that passes, the more I think I’m being followed. If I were a hopeful person, which I’m not, I would think maybe Storm still cares enough that he has someone keeping an eye on me, but I know that’s not the case.
Storm made his feelings toward me very clear when he forced me to leave, and any hope of him having any feelings apart from spite toward me are long gone.
That’s how I got here. Sitting in my apartment with a bottle of vodka, drowning my sorrows for a love I never actually had. I’ve never really drank alcohol, mainly because I don’t like feeling so out of control, but tonight I can’t take it anymore. I can’t take the little voice reminding me that no one will ever love me. I can’t take my skin crawling at the feeling of being watched. And I can’t take the memories of my time with Storm playing over and over again in my mind like some kind of fucked up Groundhog Day. I just want something to take it all away, and I’m hoping I find that in the bottom of this bottle.
Peace. Quiet. Solace.
The first few mouthfuls are hard. I don’t know how people drink this shit every day, but once I get used to the burn, it gets easier. The alcohol makes its way through my body slowly, and at first I don’t notice the effects. The feeling of weightlessness. The slight dizziness when I turn my head too quickly. The shake of my hand when I bring the bottle to my lips again. But most of all, it’s the way the pain begins to ease. The agony in my chest dulls just enough that I can drag in a breath for the first time in two months.
I never knew love could hurt so much, and if this is what heartbreak is like, I don’t ever want to do it again. It’s not worth it.
I’m not sure how much time passes, or how much of the bottle I get through, but I fall into a dreamless sleep, the most peaceful I’ve had since Storm sent me away.
Voices drag me from my drunken slumber and at first I think they’re some kind of hallucination from all the vodka I drank, but when they’re right on top of me, hovering over the couch I passed out on, dread makes my stomach sink. And that’s not the only thing my stomach is doing. It rolls heavily with the unfamiliar alcohol I forced into it, making a wave of nausea roll over me.
“Grab her,” one of them says.
“No, that’s your job,” the other one argues.
“For fuck’s sake, Frank. It’s both of our goddamn jobs,” the first one snaps.
I remain perfectly still, not wanting to tip them off to the fact I’m awake. I don’t know who the hell they are or what they want, but it’s pretty obvious they’re here to take me, and I can’t allow that to happen. What if Annalise has found me? Even as the thought enters my mind, a wave of hope overwhelms me. What if Storm changed his mind? What if he sent them to bring me back?
Don’t be so fucking stupid.
The voice in my head seems louder today, like the hangover, I assume that’s what’s happening to me considering the raging headache, dizziness and my stomach rolling over and over again, amplifies it. My mother always said I was too optimistic and that life would turn that around. I guess she was right about something.
There’s silence for long seconds before large hands wrap around my body and sling me over a hard shoulder. The sudden movement and the force at which my stomach lands cause bile to claw up my throat and before I can think to swallow it down, vomit spews down the man’s back.
“Fucking bitch,” he shouts, dropping me to the ground harshly.
The impact takes my breath away it hurts so badly. Agony rushes through my tired limbs and I can’t stop the tears that immediately stream down my cheeks. The shoulder I landed on shoots excruciating pain down my arm, and I choke on the combination of vomit and a sob. Oh god, if my sister could see me now, she would laugh at how pathetic I am. She’d get such joy at how far I’ve fallen.
Before I can open my eyes and consider moving, a large boot lands in the middle of my gut and I scream as pain shoots throughout my body. Unless Storm has changed his mind and decided to kill me, I don’t think these guys work for him, and the alternative makes my tears come in hard and fast.
Annalise.
Another boot hits my back and I scream out in pain. What am I doing? Why aren’t I screaming for my life right now? Jan is right next door. She could call the police. She could help me.
I open my mouth to scream but a large hand clasps over it. “Oh no you don’t, you little bitch.” The guy I threw up on growls. “If that neighbor of yours comes in here, I’ll shoot her in the head without hesitation. Is that what you want?”
I shake my head, my eyes wide as I take the man in. He’s in his fifties if I had to hazard a guess. His eyes are black as the night and his head clean shaven.
“Are you going to throw up again?”
I shake my head again even though I’m not sure if it’s true. I’ll do anything as long as they don’t keep hurting me. Even if that means going with them. Even if it means the cruelest fate I can imagine.
“Hurry up,” the other guy urges and a moment later I find myself back over a shoulder, but this time when I make contact, I manage to swallow down the nausea that claws up my throat.
I close my eyes as he starts toward the front door. I know I shouldn’t. I know I should watch where we’re going, but if I keep them open, I’m almost certainly going to throw up again, and I don’t want them to hurt me anymore.
I don’t want to feel any more pain, even if I know it’s inevitable wherever they’re taking me.
