Page 18 of Prelude to Madness

I sat with a thump and caught my breath. I needed a minute.

He looked pale, dark tattoos stark against his skin: a wolf, roses growing on a thorny vine.

What the fuck? I’d recognise those tattoos anywhere, but I had to make sure.

I stood slowly and removed the oxygen mask. There was no mistaking his face. A face I’d gazed upon for the past three weeks. His hair was different, not white like in my dream, but it was definitely him.

How the fuck could this happen?

His eyes flickered opened, focusing as they met mine.

“Angel? Is that you?” he asked

What the hell? I stumbled backwards. I reached for the chair but missed and ended up on the floor, my heart racing.

“How are you here? You were in my dream.” I whispered.

Two nurses ran in.

One of them helped me to the chair. “Rick, what are you doing out of bed? You shouldn’t be in here.”

“Who is he?” I asked her. I had to know.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Sit for a minute, and we’ll get you back to your room.” She fussed around me, checking for broken bones.

“Who. Is. He?” I asked again.

“We don’t know. I shouldn’t even tell you that.” She helped me to my feet.

“Don’t go, angel. Stay with me.”

I had to go back to my room before I did something I might regret, like crawl into his bed.

“Take me back to my room.” I couldn’t be here anymore.

“Angel,” he called out. “Stay with me.”

“Why is he calling you angel?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t tell her why. They’d have me wrapped up in a straight jacket before I could finish my story. I couldn’t believe this was happening. It had been a dream. A fucking dream!

By the time I got back to my bed, I was a bundle of nerves. My heart was pounding, and I felt sick to my stomach. The nurse tucked me back in with strict instructions not to leave again, but I had no intention of returning to that room.

Images I’d forgotten came back to haunt me. The cage, His Highness, the dying eyes of the overdosed man, and of course my captor. How could I forget him after all we’d done together, what he’d done to me? I’d like to say it was non-consensual, but I knew deep down I’d wanted it: the sex, the drugs, the high.

The dream had been a reflection of my desires. If I stayed around him, I’d want it again, and that couldn’t happen. I warred with my emotions. On one hand, the urge to go back there was overwhelming. On the other, I had a husband, a life. Putting that in jeopardy wasn’t an option.

Dex returned a few hours later, but I was still on edge, unable to concentrate on anything he was telling me. He wittered on about what we’d do when we got home, amongst other things, and my irritation grew.

“Rick, are you listening to me?” He laughed. “You always do this. Your mind is always somewhere else, writing music in your mind.”

“I’m sorry. Today has me all over the place. I just want to go home. Forget this ever happened and get on with our lives.” I smiled at him, hoping he’d see the fake sincerity in my words.

“I want that too, Rick. I spoke to the nurses, and they said the doctor would be around later, even though it’s Christmas Day. Hopefully, you can come home. They said you got out of bed today. Why did you do it, Rick?”

“I just wanted to see him, that was all. I’m over it.”

Lies spewed from my mouth, but it was for the best. For both of us.