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“Will heal,” I growled.

Her fingernails were gone.

She’d scratched them all off as she’d tried and failed to get out of the box.

She had scrapes all over her, and her hands were bloody messes.

The only thing that’d saved the rest of her from being scraped and bruised more had been her coat, pants, and boots.

“She smells sweet.”

“Her coffee spilled all over her when they took her,” I said.

That’d been something we’d seen as we’d searched through the surveillance tapes of the multiple business next door to where she’d been taken.

“Why isn’t she awake?” Opie asked.

“They had to sedate her,” I said. “She couldn’t calm down enough. Her heart rate was really high, and they felt like she needed to recover from the shock. They’re going to wean her off the sedation tomorrow morning.”

“Good.”

Agreed.

Thank God.

Thirty-One

Huuuge fan of inappropriate behavior. Huge.

—Text from Jessamy to Black

Jessamy

There were voices outside my hazy sleep that were talking to me, keeping me from sleeping soundly.

But I didn’t mind those voices.

What I did mind was hearing the incessant beep of whatever monitor was in the background of my sleep.

At least it was less annoying than it had been a while ago.

More time between beeps.

“Jess.”

Jess.

That was me.

“Jessamy, honey. I’m dying here. Open those beautiful eyes of yours.”

I thought about it and decided against it.

If I continued to keep them closed, then maybe this wouldn’t be a dream.

Maybe I really was out of that box.

Maybe I wouldn’t wake up to another nightmare.