Dead Man’s Hand by Giulia Lagomarsino
Ciara
Istared down at the picture in front of me. The woman staring back looked like me, but I wasn’t sure if the name fit. Ciara Donnelly. The first name sounded familiar, but the last… I bit my lip as the man snapped at me.
“Well?”
I looked up at him, unsure of what I was saying. “My name is Ciara. Ciara Donnelly.”
He studied me for a second, his eyes watching me for something. He was always watching me, always looking at me like I was trying to deceive him. “So, Ciara?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know?”
I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say. Did I want to tell him that it felt wrong? Wouldn’t that make him even more suspicious of me? I looked down at the picture again, still feeling like something was off about what I was seeing.
“I just don’t remember,” I finally said, hoping that was enough to appease him.
“Well, since that’s the only name we have, that’s what we’ll go with.”
“What about you?” I asked. It was only right that I have a name to go with the face I looked at every day.
He slowly turned to me, the look on his face so terrifying it would have scared anyone else. But for some reason, it calmed me. “What the fuck does that matter? You’re not going to be around long enough to use it.”
I huffed in irritation. He was acting like he was going to kill me or something. “Look, if you intend to kill me, you’d better do it while I’m still injured enough for you to get the upper hand.”
He smirked. “Like you could ever take me out.”
I sighed wearily. I was exhausted, my body felt like it was ready to give out. My forehead was feverish, and my headache was still pounding. I wasn’t in the mood for games or his attempts to scare me. “I just thought—”
“You don’t need to think anything. I’m nobody to you. I’ll take you to the hospital tomorrow and drop you off, and that’s where this ends. You don’t know me. You’ve never seen me before. I brought you in because I found you on the side of the road and you were injured.”
“Well, since that’s exactly what happened, we won’t have any trouble keeping our stories straight, will we?” I snapped back.
“Just remember that when you leave here,” he growled, returning to what he was doing at the stove.
Christ, he acted like I was going to run into town and blabber to the world about the mysterious man I was staying with. As if I even had anything to tell anyone. The man was a mystery, and I was pretty sure that looking menacing wasn’t a crime. And the fact that he held a gun on me couldn’t exactly be used against him since I had been holding a knife on him.
Opening the suitcase, I thought maybe I would find something that would clue me in as to who I was, but it was just clothes. There was a small bag of toiletries, which I was grateful for. Birth control pills for several months, along with some sleeping pills, were also in the bag. Yet none of it felt familiar to me.
I pulled out the second suitcase, which was even sparser than the one before. Sighing, I closed it and leaned back against the couch. My whole body ached, and all I wanted to do was sleep, but I also needed a shower. I had blood crusted all over my body.
“Can I borrow your shower?” I asked, not bothering to open my eyes to look at him.
I heard a click and then his footsteps. I opened my eyes, watching him stalk toward me. He grabbed my arm, ‘helping’ me to stand. I could have done it on my own without the rough arm tug. He started dragging me toward the bathroom, but I stopped him.
“Wait, I need my bathroom stuff.”
Sighing, he walked back and picked it up, guiding me into the bathroom. When he shut the door behind him, I stared at him expectantly.
“What?” he snapped.
“Um…you’re still in here.”
“You have a gash on your leg and a broken wrist. Just how the fuck do you think you’re going to get cleaned up by yourself?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”
“Like you did with your pants?”
Anger surged through me, and I tried to cross my arms over my chest, which didn’t work with a broken wrist. I wasn’t giving in on this.
“Get undressed.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“I’ve already seen you naked. I’m not going to do anything.”
“You’re damn right you’re not going to. Do you honestly think I’d let you anywhere near me when I’m naked?”
He gritted his teeth and nodded. “Fine. Do it yourself. I’ll go bring in more wood.”
I didn’t breathe easily until the door slammed shut. There was something intoxicating about him. He exuded power and strength, but also mystery. I felt like I should know him or that I was somehow connected to him, but I didn’t know or understand why. That had to be why I calmed down when he was on top of me. But if that was the case, if we knew each other in some way, wouldn’t he just say so? I didn’t understand.
Tiredly, I pulled the clothes from my body, hissing when I pulled my pants down my leg. It was red and swollen, and the pus starting to form underneath was not a good sign. I needed antibiotics, and I had to rely on the man in the other room to get them for me.
The slam of the front door told me that he had finally left me in peace. I finished undressing, raising my eyes to meet the lifeless woman in the mirror. She looked just like the woman in the picture, but she looked happy. I looked…lost. I leaned forward and studied my eyes, green and wide, but saw no signs of familiarity. Who was I? My eyes wandered over my body until I caught sight of something on my hip. Turning, I studied the ink in the mirror. It was some sort of symbol, but I had no idea what it meant. It was probably just a pretty design that I got after a drunken night at college.
I glanced up in the mirror. Did I go to college? I shook that thought from my head because I really had no idea. Sighing, I climbed into the shower, my leg throbbing painfully as I stepped under the spray. I let the water wash over my face, thinking about how I just had to make it one more day and then the doctors would hopefully be able to tell me something.
I reached for the soap, but even that felt like too much for me right now. I wasn’t even sure that I could stay on my feet for the whole shower. The heat stung my gash, but it made me feel good, feel alive. I leaned my forehead against the wall, feeling dizzy. Maybe I should have let him help me. God, I felt so terrible. I started washing myself, but the soap slipped from my hand. Sighing, I bent over to get it, but the world tilted and I collapsed on the shower floor, my face smacking the tile. Groaning, I tried to push myself up, but it was no use. I couldn’t move if I wanted to.