“Yep.” I roll my eyes. A horrible itch circles my wrist. I scratch at it manically.
“You look pale. You’re sweating, but you’re shaking, and scratching. Why is your office so cold? How high have you cranked the air?”
“I am?” I run my trembling hand across my brow, and it’s damp. “I hadn’t realised. Maybe this major fuck-up is messing with my head even more than I realised. Or it could be hormones.” I know why it’s happening. I need more of my pain pills. I need a fix. I need the drugs that are controlling my life.
This seems to be something I’m experiencing more and more as the weeks pass. I need to stop taking all these pills. I don’t even have pain. I’m not suffering from anxiety, and opiates? What the hell am I thinking?
Snap, snap.
I look to Linda, who snaps her fingers once more. “Earth to Morgan.”
“Huh?”
“You just spaced out.”
“I did.”
She bobs her head. “Maybe you’re coming down with something?”
“Yeah, that’s probably it.”
“I better run.” Linda’s lips stretch across her face before she turns on her heel, and I watch her clear the doorway and shuffle past the window.
“Thank fuck she’s gone.”
My bag is tucked under the drawers at my desk. I lean down and search for its strap and then reef it onto my lap. The long zipper peels back with ease, and without looking at the labels on the little orange bottles, I clutch two. Using my teeth to pry open the lids has me pouring pills into my cupped palms. I throw my head back, drop six tablets into my mouth, and chase them down with the bottle of water I retrieve from my desk.
Get a grip, Morgan.
“Conference room now.” I only see a flash of Brett when he says this.
Before I even stand, the room fills with the same blinding light I experienced before, only this time the light fades to complete darkness. I run, my hands in mid-air, trying to locate my desk. Nothing.
“Hello?” I call with a rattle to my voice.
There’s no answer.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Each beat of my heart is so loud it echoes around my head. “Hello?”
“Red, do you want to play my game?” There’s an eerie laugh. “You need to be punished. What did you do, Morgan?”
“Nothing.” I walk, trying and navigate the pitch black with my outstretched arms.
“You will pay for what you’ve done.” His voice is familiar, deep.
There’s whistling.
I step forward and press all my weight on my front foot as I think to run, but before I get the chance, my ankle is ripped out from under me and I face plant the ground with a loud huff expelling from my chest.
“You’re the thirteenth bitch to play my game.”
“What game?” It’s barely audible.
“The Game of Life.”
Pressure is applied to my neck. My face heats as I struggle to claim any air.
“Who are you?” I choke as my eyes become saucers.
“I’m your worst nightmare.”
Booming laughter.
My eyes shoot open. My arms wrap around something hard.
I heave. I cough. I gasp.
“Help.” It’s a weak deliverance.
Every breath I take becomes slower and steadier. The colours, grey, green, brown, and blue, all blur together into a giant mass until eventually they even out and I see trees, leaves, the sky, and then a rock wall.
It was a dream. I slept.
Oh fuck. Is the wolf close?
Reid
“Reid, son, you need to calm down.” Dad clamps my balled hand in front of my face. “This doesn’t mean anything. The lunatic is messing with you, just like he’s been doing the entire time. He’s playing a game. It’s what you’ve told me.” Dad pauses. His blue eyes are wide and staring into mine. “You spoke to Morgan; you know she’s still alive. Don’t let this wedding ring fa?ade mess with your head.”
I nod, grinding my back teeth together, and huff, frantic.
“Your father is right.” Gleaton takes Dad’s place in holding my fist. “We are going to find her. Just relax.”
I breath slower, more drawn out.
“You’ve done everything we’ve asked of you. Now, do one more thing for us. Stay here with Max and your family and let us bring your wife home. Don’t try and call her; we need to preserve the battery. We will call you as soon as we know anything.”
My eyes sting. Tears threaten to pour from them as my throat burns from anger, sadness, and despair.
“Okay,” I mouth.
Gleaton pushes against my hand until it’s lowered to my thigh. His eyes are glazed, and heavy bags swell below them. “You’ll know as soon as we have her.”
I bob my head.
“Wait here.”
I nod.
When Gleaton disappears from my view, I drop my shoulders in defeat. My legs feel like jelly, and my stomach burns a trail of acid to the back of my tongue—my tongue, that feels like leather inside my desert dry mouth. I’m thirsty, really fucking thirsty. I also need a moment to breathe, to be alone, so I bypass my father and the bottles of water on the table and head to the kitchen.
Shuffling my feet, I walk to the kitchen cupboard and retrieve a glass. I need to trust the police. I have to believe none of the officers working my wife’s case could be responsible for her abduction.
I hold the glass under the tap. I turn the faucet on and fill it to half full. If I don’t find a way to see that the police are on my side, I fear I’m going to combust.
Every heavy gulp of water pains me as it travels down my throat, but I finish each drop before placing the glass into the kitchen sink.
I need to let go of my desire to run and fight, and let the law take up the fight for me.
Each step I take is sluggish, and before long, Dad’s hand presses against the middle of my back as he guides me towards Mum who stands beside the lounge.
“Reid.” She speaks softly, and when she links her fingertips with mine, I no longer feel the presence of Dad’s touch or guidance.
“Sit down, love.” Mum doesn’t unlink our hold. Instead, she lowers with me. “We’re all here. Morgan’s coming home. It’s only a matter of time now.”
There are so many things I want to say ... so why can't I say any of them? Why can't I vocalise my worries? Things like: What if Morgan’s found but not repairable? What if the things she’s experienced have broken her heart and darkened her soul for the remainder of her life? What if all her future holds now is gut-wrenching, mind-torturing agony? I saw that corpse in the morgue, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the lady endured more than any human body should ever be capable of receiving. Morgan’s fighting—it’s been nearly three full days, and she was still able to make a call and talk. That must mean something. But how does Morgan go on to survive after she’s escaped the monster who’s taken her?
“Reid, look at me.” Mum’s voice is distant, but loud enough to have me zoning in from my thoughts to watch her lips move as she says, “One step at a time.”
“I know,” I murmur, making eye contact.
“Every minute counts. Be brave. You’re strong. I bred both my boys to be fighters. You boys are wolves.” She pauses. “Reid, you need to sleep. You need to get some rest.”
I swallow hard. “Where’s Cruise?”
Mum’s eyes fold closed. Her head drops. “I wish I knew.”
“Mum, what if Cruise did do this?”
“He didn’t take Morgan.” Mum’s voice is stern and her eyes are fierce when she comes to look at me. “He wouldn’t hurt Morgan. He loves you. He loves her. He loves the kids. Maybe he’s just gone walkabout again.”
“We all know what he was working on, and why you four took off overseas like you did. It wasn’t a pre-planned vacation, it was an escape. Why isn’t anyone discussing this?”
“It’s not relevant. That’s a show. This is real life,” Mum huffs.