Collide in Plain Sight

Chapter 1

Harlow

I stretch as a bright ray of sunshine intrudes the lovely dream I was having about sampling wine at a vineyard in the French countryside. I nearly scoff at myself. 

Like I'll ever be able to do that. 

I yawn and my eyes flit open, temporarily blinded by the bright light. I blink a few times, trying to remember where I am. I think back to the night before.

The shift from hell. 

I got out of work almost two hours late and I remember crashing out from exhaustion on my couch. I stretch again and feel soft fabric under my hands, a soft billowy comforter on top of me. 

I'm not on my couch. 

I lift my head and look around, my stomach dropping and heart beating frantically in my chest. 

I'm not in my bed either. 

A quick look out the window tells me I'm not even in my house. 

"Oh my god." I murmur, sitting up quickly in bed. My head pounds slightly and I reach up to massage it, looking down at my body. I'm still in the sweatshirt and pajama shorts I was in last night. That makes me feel a tiny bit better. 

Fear ripples through me to the point that I think I'm going to throw up. I go to stand, but I'm slightly dizzy so I sit back down on the bed. I hear a small knock on the door and before I can say anything it swings open slowly. I watch with wide eyes as a large man enters the room, his blue eyes meeting mine and he gives me a bright smile. He moves towards me and I push back on the bed away from him. His smile falls into a grimace, but he stops moving towards me. 

"Hi, Harlow." he says quietly, his voice deep and warm, like he's genuinely excited to see me. 

"How do you know my name?" I ask nervously. I feel my whole body trembling with fear, my eyes moving around the room wondering if any of these other doors are an exit. 

"You don't remember me?" he asks, a flash of pain going across his face. "It was a long time ago, I guess." he adds, more to himself than to me. 

Now that he says that, there is something familiar about him. The strong jaw line, sharp nose, large build, the way he moves around the room. 

"Were you a patient?" I ask and his blinding smile returns. 

"Yes." he says. 

"A fractured femur, right? From a skiing accident?" I ask and he nods excitedly. "Pierce?" I ask, not able to remember his last name. 

"Yeah. That was me." he says, a grin still on his face. 

"That was what... six months ago?" I ask. 

"Eight." he corrects quickly, as if he's been counting down how long it's been. 

"Why am I here?" I ask, another spark of pain going through my head. "What did you do to me?" I accuse angrily. He winces slightly at my tone and motions towards the bedside table where a bottle and a cup of water sits. 

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't want to hurt you. There's some aspirin. The bottle is brand new, so you know what's in it is what's on the front." he says. I open the bottle, my hands still shaky. I eye the water suspiciously and he walks across the room towards me, I back away again and watch as he takes a few large drinks of the water, then hands it to me. 

"There's nothing in it. I promise." he says. I take a couple of the pills and drink the water, my throat parched from whatever he drugged me with. 

"The doctor said you should feel fine in a couple of hours." he adds.