“Sleep, baby.” The guy with the rumbly voice is back, pressing his lips against my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“OH, SWEETHEART, WE like it when they run. It makes catching our prey much more satisfying.”
The other one laughs, the sound of their amusement chilling me to the bones. Who are these twisted fucks? And seriously, where the hell is Kingston? I almost trip in my flip-flops, so I kick them off, running barefoot now. The sticks covering the forest floor scrape my skin, but I barely feel the pain because I’m too terrified to think of anything but escape.
“Help!” I scream. “Somebody fucking help me!”
I gasp, opening my eyes, only to slam them shut again when I’m assaulted by brightness.
“Lights,” I croak.
“Turn down those fucking lights!” Softening his tone, he adds, “Take it easy, Jazz. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Kingston? Where did he come from?
My eyelids flutter open, thankful the lights have been dimmed. My head shifts in the direction of the familiar voice. It is Kingston.
“What are you wearing?”
Kingston looks down at the green scrub top covering his torso. “Someone in the ER gave it to me. The shirt I was wearing was...stained.” His expression turns grim. “I was using it to put pressure on your wound until the ambulance arrived.”
“I’m in a hospital?”
Given the fluorescent lighting, the stench of antiseptic, and the obnoxious machines, the answer should be obvious, but my head is fuzzy. Nothing makes sense right now.
He nods. “Yeah, Jazz. You’re in the hospital.”
God, he looks like crap. His sandy hair is askew, dark circles are carved beneath his eyes, and his clothes are wrinkled.
Kingston links his pinkie finger with mine. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Huh? “Why?”
His brows pinch together. “Do you remember anything?”
“I—”
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” A woman walks into the room with a bright smile on her face. Kingston scoots his chair back a little as she approaches the bed I’m lying in. “How are you feeling? My name is Kristi, and I’m your nurse for a few more hours.”
Why do I feel like we’ve been through this before?
“Um...tired.” I shake my head slightly, trying to clear the fog. “Weird.”
“It’s perfectly normal to be disoriented when you’re coming out of anesthesia,” she assures me. “Do you remember how you got here? Or why you’re here?”
I think about it for a moment. I close my eyes as horrid memories flash through my brain. It’s the same thing I was dreaming about just now. I can still feel that sick bastard’s weight on top of me. His grubby hands touching my bare skin. The knife. Oh God, he put a knife in me! My hand moves to my stomach, just now noticing the extra weight. I open my eyes, examining the splint wrapped around my hand, going several inches up my arm.
“Your wrist is fractured,” the nurse answers my unspoken question.
I ignore Kingston’s penetrating gaze and focus on the woman before me.
Kristi removes her gloves and offers a smile. “I’m going to let the doctor know you’re awake. He’ll come in and explain everything.”
When she leaves, Kingston takes my hand.
I jerk back. “Don’t touch me.”
He pulls away, looking perplexed as he rakes his hands through his thick hair. “What? Why not?”