Chapter 28Sick to my stomach, I struggled through a veil that seemed thick as cheesecloth. I had a lump on the back of my head the size of the rock that had hit me, or, was it a brick? It was there, in my mind, what and who had hit me. I don't know why I was relieved to know Mark hadn't hit me.
Crap. I was waking up, but didn't want to. I didn't want to face her. Rope or something anchored my wrists and ankles, I wasn't sure which, but it didn't matter. I was naked, spread-eagle on a mattress inside the old house in one of the upstairs bedrooms. I genuinely hated getting the residual scenes that kept flipping through my mind showing me what had gone on here for the past twenty-five years on a regular basis. Seems that first, it was a big make-out place—that explained why the smells that a
