Burning Admiration

Chapter 2

LIZ

"I don't know how you do that whole 21st-century, working-woman thing," Hailey said, taking a sip of her martini, "aside from that sexy boss of yours who's so madly in love with you. I'm sure he makes things a little easier, huh?", she widened her eyes and gave me a nudge with her elbow. "He is not in love with me! You literally think that every man who lays eyes on me is in love with me" I rolled my eyes and finished off my martini. Maybe I should slow down, it is a Wednesday after all. "well, he definitely is," I followed her gaze to a man that was sitting at a booth with two other gentlemen. While the other two seemed to be in an animated discussion, his focus seemed to be entirely on me. I had to admit, he was sexy - in the typical, I'll ruin your life, fuckboy, never had a relationship longer than a month, type of way. Just my type. "I'm almost 90% sure he's looking past me at the view," I gestured to the skyline of New York that the rooftop overlooked. "Mhmm, sure, that's why he's headed over here right now," She swigged her martini and made a quick getaway, leaving an opening for Mr. Fuckboy to come and take her seat next to me.

___________

I stumbled into the lobby of my apartment complex, "Okay, I made it," I said into my phone drunkenly, doing my best to make it past the front desk without someone asking if I needed assistance. I wandered over to the elevator with my black pumps in hand, "I can't believe you got that guy's number; ugh, he was dreamy," Hailey said. She insisted that I remain on the phone with her until I made it into my apartment despite the fact that her driver, Louis, had already ensured that I arrived home safely. The elevator doors pinged open, "His name was James... I think. But I knoooow right," I said dramatically, probably because I was at least 10 martinis deep, which is also what gave me the confidence to ask him for his number. The elevator numbers blurred together in my vision, and I was having a hard time finding the button for my floor, "Okay, I made it in the elevator - safe and sound. Now go have hot, raunchy, drunk sex with your husband," I grabbed the handrail to balance myself. "You know me so well, love you!" She made a kissy noise and hung up the phone. I fumbled with the buttons on the elevator and was relieved to see that I had succeeded at pressing the button to my floor.

I grabbed my key card out of my purse, accidentally dumping the rest of my belongings onto the floor. Fuck. I threw my things back in my purse and pressed my key card to the scanner on the door. Home sweet home. I lazily kicked my shoes to the side and tossed my purse onto the closest barstool. I was making my way to my bedroom when I felt someone's arms wrap around my neck, and I felt their other hand cover my nose with some sort of cloth. What the fu-, my eyes drifted to the back of my head before I could finish the thought.

I drifted in and out of consciousness, clinging on to reality.

This had to be a dream. It must've been the martinis. This was just a nightmare - or at least I tried to will myself to believe it.

I drifted back into consciousness long enough to realize it wasn't. I could see the shadowy outline of a man rummaging through my drawers, throwing my belongings on the floor - shoving things into a duffle.

This can't be happening to me. Shit like this doesn't happen to me! Shit like this happens in the true crime podcasts I listen to and the documentaries I watch. I need to run. My eyes rolled back into my head, and I drifted back out of consciousness.

My eyelids fluttered open to find that the man had made his way into my bathroom. I could hear him fumbling through my drawers, emptying their contents onto the floor. Run Liz. I went to move my leg, but I felt paralyzed. Fuck Liz, RUN. I tried to focus, but I still lacked the energy to move a muscle. I must've tired myself out because then it all faded to black - yet again.

__________

What is that incessant beeping? I reached to turn off my alarm clock, but my hand found an arm instead. My eyes shot open. Just as I began questioning where I was, the memories of last night began flashing into my mind - the feeling of the man's arm around my neck - the inability to move while I watched him tear apart my apartment. I'm going to throw up. My heart started beating out of my chest, and I felt the blood drain from my face - the incessant beeping had quickened, which wasn't helping calm my nerves.

"Ma'am, I'm a paramedic, and we're taking you to the hospital. I need you to try to remain calm, can you do that for me?" the man whose arm my hand had found earlier gave me a sympathetic look while his colleague monitored whatever all those numbers on the screen indicated.

I felt myself drifting back to sleep - what the fuck is happening to me?