Schasm (Schasm Series) (30 page)

I try to say it calmly. “He took me. He has me on a boat, and we’re heading away from the shore very quickly. I’m tied up, and…” I lift up my sleeve and show him the bruise of his own hand plastered on my arm.

Alex grimaces. “I need to keep you safe, in all realities.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the same small envelope I saw him take out of the metal box earlier. He unravels the string that seals it and slides out a pill covered in chrome.

“Not another pill, Alex.” That’s how all this trouble started.

“This is what’s going to buy you enough time to get us both back to shore. It’s a tranquilizer. I saved it in case I ever became a threat to anyone.” His voice goes small. “Trust me when I tell you I’m in an institution for a reason.”

I’m not sure I understand entirely. “You want me to get
you
to take this pill?” I ask. “Alex, how in the hell am I supposed to convince the violent version of you to take a pill?”

“Like this.” He puts the pill to his lips without putting it in his mouth. Then he kisses me as hard as he ever has. His tongue connects with mine, and his taste takes my breath away. “It’s the only way.”

“Is it really?” My eyes question his. “Fine.”

“Hold it under your tongue until you do it. It only activates when dissolved in stomach acid, so you’ll be safe.”

“And what am I supposed to do once I have you knocked out?” This conversation is getting worse by the second.

“Drive the boat back to the beach. Run back to my house as fast as you can.”

“I sure hope this works, Alex, because I’m very nervous right now,” I say.

“I know you are, and I am too, but I have faith that you can do this,” his mouth pulls up into his half smile, the one that makes me weak.

He places his hand under my right hand and puts the pill in my palm. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a butterfly knife. “Cut your ties with this,” he says.

I look down at the pill and then place it underneath my tongue. It’s ice-cold, tastes metallic, and it’s creating a pinging feeling in the nerves of my lower jaw.

As I prepare to leave again, he lifts my arm up to look at the bruise once more and traces the marking with gentle kisses.

“I’m so sorry, Chloe. This will all be over soon. I promise.”

I take my place back on the couch and focus on the empty white wall across the room.

I am so damn sick of drifting now.

I close my eyes and I’m back on the boat. I wriggle my wrists from the pain. It’s cutting off my circulation. Alex is still staring at me.

Who’s driving the boat?
I wonder.

I glance over Alex. It seems to be on autopilot.

So is he,
I think.

Alex stands up and towers over me. I know it’s time to turn on the charm. I stand up and take a step toward him. He doesn’t flinch. I then lean the side of my body up against him, since my bound hands can’t hug him. I look up at him, and I find myself gazing into his beautiful eyes. How am I supposed to hate him when I’m in love with him? The poor man is just displaced, and I wish I could help him rather than hurt him.

Without a second to think, I press my lips up against his. As he works his lips into mine, I feel myself getting lost in the moment. Then I remember the point of this whole exercise, and I slip my tongue into his mouth, savoring him, wanting him, needing him and hurting him as I shove the pill toward the back of his throat.

It doesn’t take long for him to gag from the lodged pill. I can only pray that the pill goes down and he doesn’t choke it back up.

He clasps his hands around his neck. I’m forced to stand here watching as his eyes protrude from their sockets. He’s panicking and chocking. He tries to cough up the pill until he releases his hands from around his neck. His hand reaches for me and wraps around my bruised arm again. He whips me around with so much violence that I hear a crack in one of my wrists. Intense pain shoots up my arm, and I scream.

I’m in blistering pain, and my screams increase in volume until he drops me to the ground. He falls beside me, the weight of his body creates a large thud on the unforgiving steel floor of the boat.

I pop open the knife with my thumb and twist the blade against the rope vigorously. The fibers slice easily. I cradle my right hand above my stomach.

I have to push the pain to the back of my mind…I have to take control before that pill wears off.

I turn the boat around. I have no idea where we are. I see land before us drawing closer, but the boat slows before we reach it. “Damn sandbar,” I say. I’ve never driven a car before, much less a boat. I try backing up, but it only moves the boat a few inches into the water. It’s just too big, and my hand hurts too much to use it. “Close enough,” I say.

I’m over the side, in the water, wading to shore and running to Alex and Celia’s house, using the restaurant on the beach as a guidepost.

Finally, I reach it. I push the door open. He’s standing at the window staring out into the darkness. I visualize myself sitting back on the couch so I can travel back to him. After five long seconds of blackness, I’m with him again. He can see me.

He looks horrified. “Are you okay?" He grabs my elbows, pulling me in and scanning his eyes over every inch of my body.

I wince. “I think my wrist might be broken.”

“Did I do this to you? Please tell me I didn’t.”

I nod. “You did…not
you
, but you.” I try to ease his mind. “You weren’t too happy after I shoved a pill down your throat.”

He pulls me into his body, holding me against him, and I press my face into his warm chest. “Please don’t refer to him as
me
. I would never hurt you like that.”

“I know, Alex.” I kiss him lightly. “Thirty seconds or so after
he
swallowed the pill, he keeled over. I was able to steer the boat up to the beach. I tried to push it back in the water and set him adrift, but I don’t know if it worked.”

He runs his fingers through my hair, trying to comfort me. “How much pain are you in?” he asks.

“Quite a bit, actually.” He falls back onto the couch. “Alex, I’m okay, really. There’s no need to worry, it’s just my wrist. It will heal.”

He clamps his eyes shut and squeezes his head between his hands. “It’s not that. Something isn’t right. I just don’t feel normal. My chest is aching, and my head hurts…” I kneel in front of him. “Chloe, do you think I could be drowning?”

I shrug. “I don’t know…maybe?”

“This doesn’t feel right,” he says, his face reddening.

“Let me get you some ice for your head. Hold tight.” I run into the kitchen and fill a towel, careful not to hurt my wrist further.

My shoes squeak against the hardwood floors as I return. I see that he’s gone. “Alex?”

He isn’t here.

I search through the house, but with each room that I walk past, the feeling of losing him grows stronger. By the time I get to the last room, I’m in tears knowing that something out of our control has just happened. Memories of his suicide attempts at the institution run through my mind.

No…he couldn’t have…

My breath becomes short, and I feel as if my heart is being pulled down to the pit of my stomach. He’s gone. The only person who’s ever loved me.

How could I have done this to him? This is my fault.

I hear the sound of distant footsteps coming up behind me. The hope of it being Alex startles me. But the slow and soft strides let me know that this person is concerned about coming too close.

I wipe my eyes with my sleeves, lifting my head up, and turn toward the footsteps. “What are
you
doing here?” I can’t believe she’d come here.

“Chloe,” my mother says, “it’s time to come home.”

“I already told you: I’m not coming home. I’m going to live here…” I trail off into tears.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Chloe,” my mother whispers, her voice sounds haunting.

The words mean nothing to me, but I begin to feel dizzy from crying so hard, and everything in front of me is spinning around like a vortex.

The beautiful living room that I’m sprawled out in disintegrates into ash and then turns black. I can feel my body becoming numb, and all I can hear is my mother repeating, “It’s time to come home…”

The pain in my heart fades, and I’m floating downward like a feather that dropped from a tree. I feel no sensations other than the ringing in my ears from my mother’s harsh voice.

A tingling washes over my arm. Tiny sparks of pain by some kind of metal tool follow. Chills are crawling up my spine, and electrical currents are filling my body with warmth.

Suddenly, everything aches.

The return of my mother’s voice overloads my hearing. Her words are now playing on repeat like a broken record. How can I get through to her that I’m not coming back?

I try to pull my eyelids apart, but they’re sealed shut. Finally, they open. My vision is blurred, but I see where I am.

I just keep drifting from horror into horror now.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

REALITY

MY MOTHER AND FATHER
are standing in front of me. So is Dr. Greene. They look down upon me as if seeing a miracle unfold before their eyes. Looking past them, I see familiar white walls. The scent of bleach floods me, and the familiar feeling of having a tube down my throat is back. How did I end up back here?

“Chloe, can you hear me?” A cold hand wraps around my wrist. “It’s Dr. Greene.”

I look at him, wishing I could speak. I can’t make a sound. He shoves his hand underneath my palm and tells me to squeeze his hand once if I can hear him.

I’m having trouble even wiggling a couple of fingers, but it is enough to signal to him that I can hear him.

“She can hear us. She moved her hand,” Dr. Greene exclaims with excitement, startling my sensitive ears.

I look at everyone over and over again, hoping someone will just explain what’s going on.

“Relax and take a deep breath,” a nurse says.

I do as she says, and I feel the tube being pulled from my throat, causing me to cough. My mouth fills with a metallic taste.

Dr. Greene questions me. “How are you feeling?”

There’s no way I can use my voice right now. I feel as if a knife has been dragged down my throat. What’s wrong with me now? I try to express my confusion without having to speak.

“Chloe, I don’t know how tell you this, but…” He stops short midsentence. “Should I not tell her yet?” He’s asking my mother’s advice.

I want to cry, but I can’t.

Why is this happening again? “No, I think we should,” my mother insists. ”She needs to know.”

Dr. Greene sits at the edge of my bed. “Chloe, you’ve been comatose for a long, long time.” I furrow my brows, and he understands. “Two months.” Tears form. I can’t control them. “You’re going to be okay now, though. You’re safe and here at the hospital with everyone who cares about you. We’re going to take exceptional care of you.”

I still don’t understand the timing of all of this.

“Do you remember coming in for your appointment, Chloe?” It’s my mother now, talking in her false tone. “The doctors tried a few procedures to see if they could help with your condition.”

Dr. Green nods. “We couldn’t wake you up.”

I point to my aching throat. I can’t even swallow. A nurse moves in front of Dr. Greene and gives me water through a straw, but my throat still feels like sandpaper. I nearly choke. “I was…committed. Here.” It hurts so much to speak.

They all look at each other, exchanging concerned looks. “No…you haven’t woken up until now. We’ve been quite concerned about you. It’s okay; confusion is normal at this point. But we’ll get you back on your feet in no time.” His smile is phony.

Something isn’t right here.

I have been very much conscious for the past couple of months. How else could everything I experienced be explained? Everything was real. I know it was.

Alex…

What about Alex? He circles my mind and the tears start to flow again.

“What’s the matter, honey?” my mother asks, acting as if she cares.

“I need Alex,” I say, my voice mournful and scratchy.

She places her hand on the side of my face. “Who’s Alex? You don’t know any Alex…do you?” She asks as if she’s talking to a three-year-old with an imaginary friend.

I have no desire to talk anymore. I turn my head into the pillow and stare at the wall, letting the conversations around me float above my body.

My mother brushes the hair from my face. “I’ll be back to check on you later, honey. I’m going to be coming by with a bag full of your clothes to keep you comfortable during your stay here.”

Not this again.

She leans over to kiss my forehead, and I stare right through her with no desire to exchange good-byes.

As my mother leaves, another set of footsteps echo in the hallway and lead into my room.

“Hi, Chloe. My name is Charlie. I’m one of the nurses here, and I’ll be taking care of you.”

I roll my eyes at her. “Great.” Even a single word hurts. “I know you all too well
.”
I think.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just started here a week ago. I’ll be happy to help you with whatever you need.” Her voice is as cheery as ever.

“How can you not remember me?”

“I’m sorry, honey. I’m here right now, though, and I’m so happy you’re awake.”

That makes one of us.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

SNOW IN MAY

I HAVE NO IDEA
how much time has passed. I’ve stayed in bed for however long it’s been.

Charlie walks into my room with an ancient-looking wheelchair. She presses a little red button on my bed, and two largely built men dressed in green scrubs walk into my room. One of them places an arm under my knees and the other arm behind my head to lift me up and then place me back down in the wheelchair. He straps my arms down to the armrests, my legs to the footrests, and lastly throws a seat belt across my waist.