“Yes,” Heroc breathed.
“No,” Abrah countered. “That’s a lie. It’s not true. It can’t be true.” He captured her upper arms and shook her lightly.
Audrey struggled to pull away from him, truly fearful now. The ferocious gleam in Abrah’s eyes was scary enough but the bruising pressure of his fingers digging into her skin truly frightened her. She was a woman at the mercy of these two men.
“No,” she yelled. She threw herself to the side, scrambling away from both men. She heard them both cry as she rolled to the edge of the bed and fell into nothing.
Audrey sat straight up in bed, her arms extended out in front of her to break her fall, a scream on her lips. The beep of her alarm clock echoed in her ears. She glanced around the familiar room and gasped for breath as it came into focus.
She was home. It was all nothing but a dream. She was still wearing her robe. The belt had slipped open but the fabric was wrapped around her. She wasn’t naked in bed with two strange men. She was in her own bed. Safe.
The alarm clock continued to beep. With everything else that had happened, she’d forgotten to reset the darn thing. A fact she was very grateful for. The dream had taken a dark turn and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what would have come next if she hadn’t woken.
Something trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away before she realized she was crying. “Stupid,” she admonished herself. “It was only a dream. Nothing more.” But it had felt incredibly real.
She managed to reach out and slam her hand down on top of her clock radio, silencing the annoying sound. The room went quiet except for the sound of her heavy breathing and the click of the radiator as it cut in.
It was just past five in the morning. She’d slept the night away but it hadn’t been a restful sleep. Her body was still humming with a strange combination of sexual release and fear. “No more sleeping pills for you.” She’d rather stay awake or take her chances with warm milk than risk another such realistic dream.
She rolled onto her side and her gaze fell onto the tapestry lying on top of the covers. “You’ve caused more than enough trouble.” She picked it up to toss it onto the floor but was unable to do so. Her fingers tightened around the fabric and she held it close to her heart.
Audrey closed her eyes and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Three
It was hours later when Audrey roused again. She was thirsty and had a pressing need to go to the bathroom. It was a bit of a struggle to make herself get out of bed, but she wasn’t quite as weak as she was yesterday. That was probably a good sign. Not that she was ready to run a marathon or anything. But, in her book, any improvement was good.
Once she’d taken care of her most pressing need, Audrey shoved her feet into a pair of flat, fluffy slippers and shuffled to the kitchen to get something to drink. Her stomach growled and she decided she should get something to eat while she was at it.
She opened the refrigerator door and poked around but nothing looked appetizing. The selection was limited to fresh fruit, yogurt, juice and wine—a single, working woman’s staples. She checked the freezer section and found a frozen bagel. That would have to do.
It didn’t take her long to thaw it in the microwave before popping it into the toaster. There was no cream cheese but she’d make do with margarine. Grocery shopping was on her list of things to do.
While she waited for the cinnamon-raisin bagel to toast, she opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out a note pad and pen and began to write a list. Bread and soup were at the top. Quick and easy for meals.
The bagel popped up and she buttered it quickly. She hadn’t thought to boil the kettle for tea so she poured herself a glass of orange juice instead. She carried her meager meal over to the table and sat down at her teak bistro set.
It was so quiet. Usually she was up and showering and running around getting ready for work with the news playing in the background. This morning she didn’t care what was happening in the business world. It was strange to feel so cut off from the rest of humanity, adrift in a world of her own.
She no longer knew herself or what she wanted out of life.
“Maybe it’s time to find out.” Saying the words aloud made them more real. She grabbed the pad of paper she’d used to start her shopping list and turned to a clean page. Audrey chewed on the bottom of the pen before writing, “Audrey’s Goals” at the top. It helped to have goals. She’d always had a focus for her life.
When she was younger it had been all about design and fabric and furniture. Then her mother had gotten ill and life had become all about survival, which is why she’d ended up where she was.
But what did she want now?
Good question. She was a thirty-three year old, single workaholic who’d just had a physical collapse and possibly a panic attack. She still wouldn’t admit to that. To say she had a panic attack made her sound weak and she prided herself on being strong. Better to chalk it up to a combination of too much caffeine, not enough food or sleep and overwork.
She had a vague memory of wanting a family of her own. It had been her and her mother for so long, Audrey had always thought she’d like to have a big family. As a child, she’d lain awake in her bed at night and fantasized what it would be like to have huge family dinners and holiday celebrations like the ones she saw on television. But reality was so different from a one-hour television show and many people lived alone.
She shoved her notepad aside. “I’ll work on it later.” Thinking about it was only depressing her. She’d managed to eat half the bagel but was no longer hungry. She really should sit down and look at the list the dietician at the hospital had given her. “Later. I’ll do it later.”
Audrey couldn’t work up the motivation to do much of anything this morning. She had no idea how much time had passed with her simply sitting here, staring off into space. She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave, surprised to see it was almost half-past nine. By now she’d usually have at least two hours put in at her desk.
She pushed aside her plate and rested her head on the table. The thought of work made her stomach roil and her chest ache. “Stop it.” She pushed herself upright and swiped away a tear. She hated leaking like this. It was a sign of weakness.
Maybe you’ve been strong for too long.
She ignored the voice in the back of her head. She had to be strong. There was no one else for her to depend on. She certainly couldn’t count on her friends. She didn’t have any. And who was going to pay her bills if she didn’t work? No one, that’s who.
“Enough.” Audrey shoved away from the table, dumped the remains of her breakfast into the garbage and shoved the few dishes she’d used into the dishwasher. “What you need is a shower.” It helped to talk out loud to herself. And since she lived alone there was no one around to criticize her for it.
She went straight to the bathroom and turned on the taps, making sure the water wasn’t too hot. She slipped out of her robe and stepped beneath the warm spray, letting it cascade over her body. It was heavenly, sliding over her skin, caressing her breasts.
A shudder racked her body and a bolt of desire shot through her. It was that darn dream she’d had last night. It had woken something deep inside her. Her breasts were sensitive this morning, the water almost too harsh against them.
Swearing under her breath, she grabbed her shower gel, squeezed some onto a puff and began to wash. She was quick, not wanting to linger. Her body no longer felt like her own, the sensations coursing through it alien to her.