Ambushed by M.E. McAndrews
Chapter 28
Olivia
from my temples, as if someone is pounding a hammer into the side of my skull. And there’s a heavy, invisible weight crushing down on the top of my head. My eyes are sewn shut, and I clench my jaw, trying to force them open. Jesus, it feels like I’ve been run over by a garbage truck.
As the thin stream of light squeezes between the crack in my eyelids, what I see is barely discernible and unfamiliar.
Wait a minute—According to the fancy digital clock staring at me, it’s just after eleven o'clock, I know this clock. I'm in Austin's bedroom! The room smells like cedar, and there’s a window looking out into the lush green foliage of the backyard, leading straight to my house. I blink as my fingers run along the crisp white linens, pushing back the down comforter.
“Oh my god.” I glance down, realizing I'm in nothing but my underwear. “Austin?” I call out.
My head continues to pound, and I clasp my hand to my throbbing temples.
“Austin?” I shout again. The sound of my own voice is like a cannon.
Oh god, what the hell happened last night?
There's a set of fresh clothes folded on a chair next to the bed, and a plate of food-looks like eggs and toast-on a folding table next to the chair. My stomach twists as bile rises, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I struggle to remember what happened, but I can only reconstruct bits and pieces of blurry memories from last night.
My head is on fire. I move, letting out an audible groan as I stretch my arms and roll my legs off the bed. I remember going to a party, the crystal chandelier, the spiral staircase, the grand piano—God, and Austin. His handsome face, our eyes locking as he guided me through the enormous house. I remember the way he pulled me onto the dance floor, his arms wrapped around me, his eyes sparkling as he beheld me in my gorgeous gown. His hand on my ass, his manhood pressing against me. He was so handsome in that Armani tuxedo.
But then... nothing. After that, all blank.
“Ugh.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
What the hell happened? Why am I here? What did I drink? The rest of the night is a blur. I remember being so sleepy, being on the dance floor, him pulling me over to the terrace, and then—
What happened after that? My stomach twists into knots. Oh my god. He drugged me. He must’ve put something in my drink. The champagne. Oh fuck! I feel the bile rising, the panic consuming me.
I need to get home. I ignore the plate of food and slip on the pair of sweats and T-shirt on the chair. They fit perfectly and the tags are still on them. Some high-end designer bullshit.
A noise comes from the kitchen, and I tiptoe warily into the room. The house is completely immaculate, as always. The smell of cooking food wafts through the air.
“Austin?” I call out. I'm surprised to see him. He’s standing at the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and nothing else.
My heart sinks, and my breathing speeds up. Panic engulfs me, the familiar feeling of claustrophobia, my heart pounding. I'm so close to a full-blown panic attack. But I need to play it cool if I don't want to risk him sensing my suspicion.
He turns, studying me. “You're awake,” he says. He looks dashing, as usual. Even half-dressed. The stubble on his chin makes him look even sexier. He's wearing his black-framed reading glasses.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asks. “I had your dress sent to the dry cleaners, by the way. It should be done this afternoon.”
“What's going on?” I ask. My body aches and my head is still throbbing, no doubt the aftereffects of whatever he drugged me with. “How did I get here?”
“I brought you here. You were out of it. I thought it would be best if you stayed with someone to watch over you. I hope you don't mind,” he says. My gut twists. “Did you eat?”
I shake my head.
“You should. Make sure you stay hydrated too, okay? Are you feeling any better?” He repeats the question.
Better than what? I feel like absolute shit. My head is about to explode. And my mind is filled with toxic thoughts. I can't believe for a second, I thought he actually might care about me. “Yes, much better,” I lie, my voice cautious. “I didn't get to thank you for last night.”
“No need to,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “You looked like you needed some help. I'm glad I was there.”
“I, um... I don't know what I would've done,” I say. I feel the need to throw up. “Thanks again.” I try to maintain my fake smile.
He gives me a serious look. “Are you okay, Olivia? You seem upset.”
“I am. I got a little dizzy after the party,” I say. “I'm just a little disoriented. I think I'm going to head home now.”
He studies me, clearly not believing a word coming from my mouth.
“Let me walk you back.”
“No. It's fine. You've done enough. Really.” I give him a weak smile. “I'm okay, I promise. I think I just need to sleep it off.”
He is about to say something but stops himself.
“I should go,” I say.
I turn and walk straight for the front door. I need to get out of here. He walks with me, and we stand there awkwardly in the hallway, silence between us.
“If it's alright, I'll be stopping by later to check on you.”
“How about I just call you if I need something?”
He inhales slowly, studying me. “Olivia, I know that last night—”
“Please. I just want to go home,” I say quickly, hurrying out the front door. I can't take it any longer. I need to get away from him. My head is pounding, my heart racing as I slip out of his house as fast as I can.
Inside my house, I collapse on the couch, letting myself sink in. I yank the quilt over my head and groan. The tears fall down my cheek. I wipe them away. I take a deep breath, then another. What the fuck happened last night?
None of his behavior makes sense. If he drugged me, why would he bring me to his house, take care of me, feed me? But maybe that's all part of his game.
God. I need this headache to go away, and I need my memory back.
I get up, make a cup of tea, and fall back onto the couch. I pull my legs up and rest my head on the armrest. I need to call the cops, make a report, go to the hospital.
But that would be the worst thing ever. It's not like they're going to do anything, anyway. It's Austin Blackwater.
I take a deep breath, but my mind races again. I was so naïve to think I could actually manipulate Austin; to better him at his own game. It was stupid of me to think he might actually care about me.
I freeze as the sound of my creaking front door snatches my attention.
“Hey, Olivia!” Bella's voice chimes through the hallway as she walks into the foyer. As soon as she sees me on the couch, she stops in her tracks and stares at me. “You look like shit! Are you okay?”
I blink furiously, my head still pounding. I try to force a smile, but the action makes the pounding in my head worse. “I'm fine,” I say, gritting my teeth.
Bella narrows her eyes. “What's wrong?” she asks.
“I'm an idiot. That's all.”
“What happened?”
I pick at the couch cushion beside me, avoiding her eyes. “I... have a nasty headache,” I say, staring down at the floor. “I had a rough night.”
She whips out a bottle of Advil from her purse and rattles it, like a box of Tic Tacs.
“I have just what the doctor ordered,” she chimes. “I'll get you some water.”
She disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a tall glass of water, handing it to me.
“Thanks, Bella.” I pop a double dose of Advil into my mouth, and chase them down with the entire glass of water.
“So, stop dodging the issue and tell me what happened!”
She plops down on the couch beside me, resting her chin on her hand, a sincere look of concern on her face.
“I think someone drugged me, but everything… it's a blur...”
Bella’s eyes widen, her mouth opens as she exhales noisily.
The thought of someone drugging me makes me nauseous. I'm going to be sick. My stomach turns. I need to sit up, but I'm too dizzy. I groan and squeeze the couch cushion, trying to breathe.
“Fuck! What? When?”
“At the party, Austin Blackwater's big charity event, that he does every year or whatever... We were dancing... I think Austin brought me home. I woke up in his house this morning...” I trail off.
“What? Austin did this to you?” she asks. Her eyes widen. “Shit, Olivia. Are you okay?”
I nod slowly. “That's what I don't understand. It's a blur. I feel like I was drugged, and I don't remember anything. I can't remember a single thing.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she says. “I knew Austin was a sleaze ball, but to go that far?”
I slide my fingers through my hair, shaking my head. “But what I don't understand is if he poisoned me, why did he take such good care of me? This all just feels like a terrible headache, so why?” I chew on my lip. None of it adds up. He gained nothing by doing this, at least, I don't think he did.
“Maybe he, like, needs to control you or set you up for something.”
“I hadn't thought of that.” I drop my face into my hands. “God, I hope not,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut. “I can't believe I got myself into this mess.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don't know,” I sigh. “Because it's Austin Blackwater, Bella. I can't go to the cops about this.” I am so embarrassed. I was so stupid.
“Okay, but if you need anything, let me know,” she says. “Like, if he comes by, I'll call the cops or something.”
“No, no, no, no, no, Bella.” I shake my head and glance at her. “I don't want you to get involved. I just need to recover, and think about this for a bit.”
“This whole situation pisses me the hell off. You're right. If you go to the cops, this will become news, and Austin has the power and the money to spin it any way he wants. He'll probably even accuse you of slander, or something like that.”
“You think so?”
“Of course. Then he'll take you to court or sue you. You can't pay your mortgage if you're in prison.”
My heart thuds in my chest, mixing with anger. He's trying to trap me, lure me into a situation where he can get my property. And tear down my house.
“Yeah, we can't let that happen,” she says. “You need to get your energy back and then we need to figure out what the fuck to do.” She stands up, pacing around the room. “You need a plan. You can't let him force you out of your house.”
“I'll figure it out,” I say. “I just need to get my head straight.”
“He's a billionaire. He doesn’t need to follow the law. He writes the law, he'll get you thrown in jail.”
I sink a little deeper into the couch. I can't believe this is happening.
“That's why I think you should come stay with me for a while,” she continues. “I'm leaving later today, but it would be a good place for you to stay. You can keep your head down. And then, once you feel better, you can make your next move.”
“This is really scaring me, Bella. I don't know what to do.” I swipe at my eyes.
“You need to be careful, Olivia. You never know what people will do. And you have to protect yourself. Who knows what the hell he's planning, and it's best if you're not here to find out. I really think you should come stay with me.”
“No. I can't leave my house.”
Her thin brows pull into a frustrated furrow, and she frowns heavily. “Olivia. It's not safe here! He can ramble over here at any time and hurt you.”
“I understand, but if I leave, he wins.”
She sits back down, glancing out the window for a long while.
“I just don't understand this... this situation,” I say, rubbing my stinging eyes with my fingers. “This isn't anything like I thought it would be.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I thought Austin liked me. I thought he was maybe falling for me. But I guess I was wrong. Because if he had been into me, he wouldn't be trying to use me for something or whatever. I guess this was all meant to screw with me.”
“I wouldn't worry about whether he fell for you. He's a conniving asshole. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure he drugged you. The more likely it is that he’s setting you up.”
“When I left the party last night, he came with me. He made sure I got home safely, and babysat me at his house.”
Bella laughs. “That just sounds like a ploy to me. He brought you home so he could use you for his own pleasure.”
A shiver races down my spine.
“It's conniving, and it's dangerous. You're going to get hurt in this condition. I don't want you to end up hurt.”
“I know, but I will not let him scare me out of my own home.”
“So, you're going to stay here, by yourself?”
“I will not run from him. I'm going to fight him.” My spine stiffens with my resolution. “He's not going to evict me.”
Bella shakes her head, sighing. “I don't think you should do it alone. You're going to get hurt. You're not taking this seriously enough.”
“I'll figure something out. Don't worry about me,” I say.
“I'm serious, Olivia. Don't be a hero.”
“I'm not a hero.”
She stands up, shaking her head. “Okay, well, I'll let you rest. You could use some sleep. I don’t want to add to your stress. I'll call you soon,” she says. “You call me if you need anything. And I mean anything.”
I nod slowly. “Thanks, Bella. I really appreciate your friendship.”
“Sure. I'll talk to you later, then, okay? I should go pack.”
“Have fun,” I say.
I watch as she walks down the hall, then the door clicks closed. Laying my head back against the cushion, I close my eyes and listen as her car starts up. My throbbing head savors the refreshed silence in the room.
Last night’s events provides more proof: Austin killed my husband. I keep thinking about everything that’s happened, wondering how I could have been so stupid. I guess I just assume everyone is basically good, like me. That everyone is honest, not just manipulating me for their own secret agenda.
But I know better now. I know I can’t trust anyone. Except Bella.
The rest of the day is like a blur, much like the night before. I spend most of it on the couch, alternating between tears and sleep, followed by fits of rage, and periods of trying to calm myself down.
Bella calls a couple times, checking in to see if I’m alright. I tell her ‘I’m good’, but I’m not. I’m not good at all. All I can think about is everything collapsing around me.
I just have to make it through these next couple of weeks, then I can figure out what I’m doing. Until I know more about what the hell to do, I have to find a job so I can pay my mortgage. And my taxes.
As day turns to dusk, I move out to the porch, nestling on the bench swing. I listen to the crickets and the passing cars as the orange-tinted sky turns to dusky gray-blue with the setting sun.
I catch a glimpse of Austin out of the corner of my eye. He waves to me as he steps off his porch and walks toward me. Great. I can’t even go outside anymore without the risk of him seeing me. But I don’t want him to think I’m hiding from him, so I wave and watch him walk toward me.
“Olivia,” he calls.
As if he can sense my fear and anger, he flashes me an enormous grin, and his eyes are hard and cold. He’s wearing a light-colored shirt—very pale blue or gray—and a pair of dark jeans. The silver in his hair catches the last rays of sunlight as it dips behind the trees.
“Hey,” I say with a weak voice.
“Just finished some work. Thought I would come and check on you.”
“That’s sweet,” I say, trying to sound nice. I can feel my heart racing. “What’s that?” I ask, referring to the large white plastic bag in his hands.
He beams and holds the bag out toward me. “Pad Thai. I thought you could use some sustenance. Can I come up?”
“No. I’m exhausted.”
“How about tomorrow, maybe we can get dinner?”
“I’m going to be busy. I have to keep searching for a new job, and I have to get caught up on some other things.”
“That’s a pity,” he says, grinning again. “Maybe another time. I’ll stop by tomorrow to make sure you’re okay.”
Something mysterious and scary lingers behind his eyes. “I appreciate that, Austin. But I’m fine.”
“If you say so,” he says with a teasing note in his voice. “It’s just that I worry about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I appreciate that too,” I say, surprised. “But I’m fine. Really.”
“Well, alright, then.” He takes a step toward me, his eyes narrowing as they search mine.
“I have a lot to do tomorrow, so I’m going to go in and get some sleep.” I get up from the swing. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
I feel his eyes on my back as I go inside, locking the door behind me. I lean against the door for a moment, then go over and check the other door locks. It doesn’t do much, but at least I’m doing something. I know he’s watching me, and that he’s probably wondering why I’m not letting him in. I just have to play it cool.
I collapse onto the couch and bring my knees to my chest to rest my head on them. My legs tremble. Will he really keep trying to break me down? I feel like I’ve made up my mind, but I’m still not sure. Part of me wants to fight, wants to stand up against him and all those other assholes, but part of me is just tired of it all.