“What? Why?”
It didn’t matter anyway. It was too late. The seconds it took Jace to reach her weren’t enough to get away, even if she had all her faculties. Before she could respond, his face was in hers. He wrapped his hands around her upper arm and squeezed.
“Finally,” he said, his breath reeking of beer. “We can finish this.”
Chapter 21
“Go away, Oliver,” Ari mumbled into her pillow. He relentlessly pounded on her door. What the heck? He knew she liked to sleep in on weekends. Rolling over, she seized her head.
“Ow.”
It was then that she realized the pounding came from her ears and above her temple. The room itself was silent.
And dark.
Ari felt her soft pillow and lightweight quilt but pushed them back because her skin felt feverish. “Ugh,” she groaned. Her whole body ached. What was that smell? She sniffed the quilt. The detergent was perfumed and only added to the throbbing headache. Carefully, she sat up and noted the darkness of her room. Usually there was a least a slit of light near the window. Right then, everything was swallowed in black.
Instinctively, she ran a hand under her pillow for her phone but it wasn’t there. Not a surprise since she didn’t remember coming home the night before. She didn’t remember anything past the text message from Davis and slipping out the window. Did she meet him? Did she bring him home? She felt around and wondered who put her in her pajamas. Shorts and a tank top. Ari fumbled in the dark for her bedside lamp, knocking something over in the process. She found the tiny knob on the lamp and turned it, lighting up the room.
“Oh, God.”
Ari was not in her room.
Or her house.
Ari’s heart leaped in her throat and she stood up, letting the sheets and quilt fall to the side.
This was not her room but everything looked the same. Exactly. The furniture and rug under her feet. The painting of four crows hanging on the wall behind the dresser—the one she bought at the tiny art fair downtown. The books on the bookshelf—shelved identically. The antique crystal door knob. Slowly, she acknowledged that not everything was the same. Not exactly. Ari ran her hand down the wall and felt the bumpy surface of cinderblock, not the plaster of her room. And the floor wasn’t hardwood. Under the rug, cold, gray cement peeked out around the edges.
She ran to the wall lined with curtains. Throwing them aside, she cried out when she saw nothing but a blank, solid wall behind them. That was why she didn’t see light. Her heart hammered, competing with the drumming of her headache. She needed to get out of there. Where ever there might be.
Barefoot and barely dressed, she ran to the door, jiggling the knob. Unsurprisingly, it was locked but she persevered, shaking and yanking on the door until it flew open. What she didn’t expect was who was waiting for her on the other side.
Hope.
***
She stood before her in tight black shorts and a tighter black halter top. Her hair was braided to perfection and tiny diamonds glittered in her ears. Ari’s missing client held out a tray of food. “Take it,” Hope said. Her eyes listed slightly to the side and her shoulders slouched. A far cry from the firery girl she’d seen a couple weeks ago.
“Hope, are you okay? Where are we?”
The girl shrugged. “Take this and eat. He’ll be down later.”
“Who will be down? We need to get out of here!”
Hope shoved the tray into her hands and walked out.
“Wait!” Ari dropped the tray of food and rushed to the door, kicking a bottle of water across the room. Hope locked the door with a solid, loud click from the other side. “Hope! Come back!”
The sudden movement brought on a wave of nausea and Ari grabbed her waist, searching for something to vomit into. She found a wastebasket near the dresser and retched until there was nothing left.
Chapter 22
Ari woke in bed. The same bed with the funny detergent smell from before, and no light coming from under the curtains. She winced, sitting up. Her stomach and head ached from vomiting. The tray she’d dropped to the floor earlier had been cleaned up and neatly set on the bedside table. Ari grabbed the bottle of water and chugged it, fighting off dehydration. With a mouthful of water, she realized Jace Watkins sat in the corner, rocking lazily, back and forth.
Her mouthful of water sprayed across the bed. “What the—?” she sputtered. “You did this?”
She’d been afraid before, but right then, her veins ran ice cold.
“I got you here,” he said, his gold tooth flashing in the lamplight.