Bits and pieces came back to me from last night. A girl dancing all up on me. Ash up on a bar doing shots. Standing and talking with Johnny. And Connor.
“Connor,” I mumbled, even my mouth feeling heavy and sleepy.
“Yeah, he said he saw you drink something before you passed out. Have some water.” Ash handed me a large bottle and sat with me, coaxing me to finish nearly the whole thing.
I needed to sleep some more. I tried to fight it. He said I’d already slept for 14 hours, but I couldn’t stay awake any more than I could fly.
“Where are we?” I managed, my eyelids stubbornly refusing to open, my head sinking deeper onto Ash’s shoulder.
“My cabin in Mammoth.”
“What?” That breathed a bit of life into me. My eyes not exactly wide but at least partially open, I looked around me. A rustic antler chandelier overhead, wide-beamed wooden planks underfoot, we nestled on an oversized leather couch in front of a gigantic stone fireplace. Had he said Mammoth? Like the prehistoric wooly mammoth creature?
I must have said that last bit out loud because Ash chuckled and pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head. “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you rest some more?”
“Was going to New York,” I whispered, trying to make sense of this, my body sinking into him with complete trust but my mind reeling about, foggy and confused and upset.
“I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed me on my head. And with that I was out again like a light.
§
I didn’t know what time it was when I woke up again, but I could see it was dark outside the windows. Lights were on inside, though, and the fire still burned.
From somewhere I could hear a piano, the notes lilting and flowing out. It was Ash playing, I knew instantly. He had a way of expressing himself, showing how he felt through the keys. He was playing that song, the tune he’d first played for me at the arena in Santa Clara. So haunting, aching. The melody had grown from that first time, developed through us playing it again, together, expanding and deepening. It pulled at me.
But even more than that, I really needed to pee. Slowly, I brought myself up to sitting. Then slowly, oh so slowly, up to standing. I realized I was wearing a too-big sweatshirt and sweatpants. They must belong to Ash.
Ash was at my side in a second. “Are you OK?”
“Bathroom,” I managed. He helped me over to it. I wondered if that’s what it felt like to get old, when meeting bodily needs seemed to pose a nearly insurmountable challenge. Ash would take good care of me if we grew old together.
Where had that thought come from? Clearly I was still under the influence of some kind of drug much more powerful than mere alcohol.
Door closed, I took my time, as if I could have done anything else. Cold water felt good splashed on my face, and I found a washcloth to remove some of the more ridiculous clown-like smudges of makeup. Nothing could be done about my hair, though. It had a life all its own, standing up proud and tall like a 1960s beehive. So be it. Nothing but a long, hot shower could tame that mane.
When I finally emerged, Ash met me and walked me again over to the couch. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got run over by a truck. Did I?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Because I can’t remember a damn thing about last night.”
“I guess you did some shots. And had something else to drink which I have to guess was laced with something. Could have been rohypnol, or GHB, or zolpidem. Or even a benzodiazepine, like temazepam or midazolam.”
I looked at him. “Did you just start speaking another language?”
He dropped his head, looking slightly bashful. “I know a lot about drugs.”
“Are you a pharmacist on the side?”
He looked up at me and shrugged his shoulders. “Ana, I’m not a perfect man. Far from it. But give me a shot.”
“Ash, I literally don’t even know where I am right now.” Was he trying to have a relationship conversation?
“Sorry, right.” He hustled away, then returned with a fresh water bottle and a mug of what looked like tea. “Here, keep hydrated.”
I drank. “So you think I got drugged?”
He nodded. I wished I could remember more about last night, but it was like trying to recollect a strange dream, the fragments appearing then twisting away before I could collect them and make sense of it all.
“I think I need more Advil.” He brought me some more, and I washed them down, starting to feel just the slightest bit more human.
“The last person I remember seeing was Connor.”
Ash nodded. “He found you right before you passed out.”
Had he also given me a drink? Possibly the drugged drink? I wished I could remember. “You don’t think he…?”
“No,” Ash dismissed my unfinished question. “No way. Connor wouldn’t do that to you.”
I didn’t exactly share his confidence, but I had other fish to fry at the moment anyway. “So, where exactly am I? Because I thought I had plans to go to New York.”
“You did.” He nodded, looking a bit grim. “But I brought you here to a remote cabin in the California wilderness instead. Without your consent.”
My eyes widened. Nothing like ripping off the Band-Aid. “Excuse me, what?”
“I kidnapped you.” He shrugged. I didn’t find it cute.
“Ash, are you joking?” I looked around and he really didn’t seem to be joking. I was surrounded by a rustic mountain cabin. An expensively-decorated, four-to five-million-dollar range rustic mountain cabin, but still. What the fuck?
“You were passed out.”
“Because someone drugged me.”
“And I didn’t want you to fly to New York. I wanted to spend some time with you. So I rented a car and drove us here.”
“Without my consent.”
He nodded.
“While I was passed out.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Ash, that’s so fucked up and creepy!”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
I looked around, not sure whether his ready agreement creeped me out more or calmed me down. Crazy people didn’t know they were crazy, right?
I had been planning on flying back to New York today, but I hadn’t bought my ticket yet. My parents didn’t expect me back for another few days, nor did my boss at the library or my piano students. It wasn’t a disaster. But it wasn’t what I’d planned. And he hadn’t exactly asked me first.
“Where are we again?”
“Mammoth. Near Yosemite.”
“In the mountains?”
He nodded. “And I may as well tell you we’re in the middle of a huge snowstorm. We won’t be able to get out of here for a few days.”
“What?” Now I remembered hearing something about it, people talking about the West Coast storm of the century at the party before his show. People from California were saying they might spend an extra night or two in Vegas instead of trying to fly back into delays and possible airport closures.
To offer confirmation, Ash walked over to a sliding glass door and flicked on a light switch. Outside, thick swirls of white enshrouded every inch.
“Oh my God.”
“We’ve got plenty of food and firewood and a generator in case we lose electricity.”
“You are crazy.” Who did that, driving to a remote cabin, intentionally cutting yourself off from civilization in the midst of a massive storm? I could practically hear my mother’s voice in my ear, asking if we had enough canned goods and had we checked for batteries in all of the flashlights.