CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

Julia’s head throbbed, her mouth was dry, her vision blurry. She moved to sit up, but a wave of vertigo swept over her, nearly causing her to vomit. Laying her head back into the velvety pillow, she blinked. The room was unfamiliar. Very classy with its light golden wallpaper, fine art prints, and sleek silk sheets; but despite all these, it held the smell and feel of a hotel room. Where was she? Her thoughts, her memories were so fragmentary, so fleeting. It was as if she could almost grasp one and then it would turn to vapor, flitting away on some gentle mind breeze. Why was she here—wherever here was? Why was she so groggy? Why was it so difficult to form even the simplest of thoughts?

She lolled her head to the right. Red luminescent numerals read one o’clock. It was light outside. She could see that even through the drawn curtains. One in the afternoon, but of what day? Why couldn’t she think? Her eyes fluttered. She was sleepy still. Maybe she should just sleep it off. Maybe she’d be more coherent in another couple of hours. But, sleep what off? She wasn’t a heavy drinker, she didn’t do drugs. She certainly wasn’t the type to get blitzed and land in some strange guy’s hotel room. Where was she then, and why?

But, sleep. Sleep called to her. It would be so wonderful to sleep. This could all wait till later. Something floating on the fringes of her mind told her that just this scenario had already occurred several times. How often had she wakened disoriented and groggy and then fallen back into whatever haze she was experiencing?

No.

She was awake. She might be fuzzy around the edges; she might feel like emptying her stomach into the nearest toilet, but she was conscious now, and that meant she needed to act. She needed to find out where she was and why.

It was there, just at the corner of her muddled brain, she could sense it.

She blinked.

Had she just seen movement?

She blinked again, wishing she could focus. Her vision was just fuzz and shadows, nothing concrete.

Blink, blink.

Yes, there was a form, probably male, standing at the foot of her bed, just staring at her. How long had he been here? Who was he? Had she been drugged? Had she been raped? Julia’s heart raced. She tried to lift herself into a sitting position, but nearly lost the contents of her stomach for the effort. “Wh-who are you?” she stammered as her head flopped back onto the pillow.

The shadow stepped to her left, moving around the bed and closer to her face. “My name is Ric. We haven’t met yet—at least not while you’ve been conscious.”

Julia squinted. The image cleared some, but there was still enough blur to make the young man appear as fuzzy as a newly-hatched chick. “Ric? Who’s Ric?”

“I’m one of Dr. Baker’s students.”

Dr. Baker? Dr. Donald Baker. The name came clear as one she’d recently known, but there was no context. She couldn’t recall who the doctor was. “I don’t remember,” she said. “Why am I here?” She was very weak, and the effort to speak created new waves of vertigo. Still, she fought to keep her stomach under control. It wouldn’t help her situation to vomit on the young man’s shoes.

Ric stepped closer. “You’ll remember everything soon enough. Dr. Baker said you need to be brought around. I’ve set a pitcher of water and a glass on the nightstand. You’ll want to drink as much as you’re able, flush your system of the drug.”

“What drug?”

“Dr. Baker will explain everything once your mind has cleared.” With that he turned, strolled across the lush carpet, and let himself out. Julia heard the click of a lock turning after he’d closed the door.