For as long as she can possibly remember, Michael Brentwood (Scott Foley) has always been Amy's lifeline, the only person she can count on to heal her pain, not only emotionally but more importantly, physically. He's unbelievably kind, compassionate...
Amy's head shifted against the pillow beneath it, a weary groan rising up in her throat as her eyelids fluttered open. Sighing wearily, she rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes and turned her head, looking over at the clock on the nightstand.
2:35 p.m.
She blinked back her astonishment, quickly pushing herself up to her elbows. Damn, had she really slept that late? Normally, if she were in her own apartment on her day off, she'd be waking up at this hour of the day anyway, but not when she was in Andrew's apartment. She still had to get up, shower, get dressed, and be at the hospital for her stupid MRI before the end of his shift, which was probably going to be sometime around seven or eight.
Shit!
And didn't she have her Criminal Investigation class today too? She really had to get going. With an irritable groan, she pulled the covers back and got out of bed, staggering out of the bedroom and into the living room. Grabbing her backpack from beside the front door of the apartment, she brought it into the bedroom and pulled out her overnight bag, taking it into the bathroom with her. Sliding the door back, she reached inside and turned on the shower head. Retrieving the two travel size bottles of Herbal Essences from her bag, she slid off her panties and stepped inside the shower a moment later.
She was half-way through her shower when she remembered Andrew's birthday was coming up. He hadn't given her an exact date, but she had a feeling that it had to be sometime next week. What the hell was she going to get him and when? Did she have time today? Damn, why did she have to wake up so late? Maybe she could just cancel this whole MRI thing.
She snickered to herself as she tilted her head back under the shower head, rinsing the conditioner out of her hair. Yeah, right. Fat chance. She had be at class by six so...oh god. Frozen in fear, her hands fell away from her hair, her thoughts wandering back to what happened last week...Victor. Oh god, he knew where she went to college, no, worse, he knew when. What if he showed up and ambushed her again tonight? What if he tried to strangle her again and actually succeeded in killing her?
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A cold hard fist of fear abruptly stole her breath, wrapping tightly around her pounding heart. The hot steam of the shower rushed into her nostrils, filling her lungs and nearly suffocating her. Placing her hand against the wall of the shower, she bowed her head and shut her eyes, gasping for breath. Was she having another anxiety attack? Well, she hadn't taken her meds so that was a definite possibility.
Damn it, not now. Not again. Not here. She needed Andrew. No...she needed air! She needed it now!
Reaching out for the handle on the shower door, she pulled it open in a panic and stuck her head out, sucking in a few deep breaths of air, trying to breathe, trying to calm her panicked heart.
Okay, think...think! Going to class was a very, very bad idea right now. It was a bad idea today, and it was going to be a bad idea next week too. So what could she do? Drop the class? Then what? What would happen to her Criminal Justice degree? She would have to find another college. That was all there was to it. They could transfer her credits. Okay, so there was that. She didn't want to die tonight. She didn't want to die tomorrow either, or the next day, or the day after that.
