Sleep called to her, drew her deeper into its spell even as she fought for consciousness. She didn’t want to sleep. She wanted . . . she wanted . . . she didn’t know what she wanted. Maybe she wanted to die.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A knock came. “Mrs. Avery, I’d like a word with your daughter.”
Mrs. Avery. Poor Mrs. Avery was everywhere. Doctors called her name. Nurses. People. Friends. I’m so sorry, we heard, this is awful . . .
Mrs. Avery’s voice was tired now. Was she angry? She sounded strained and far away, shuffling to the door. “Officer, this is not a good time . . .”
The voices faded into the hall, still audible to some degree.
“. . . shock . . . head trauma . . . doesn’t remember . . .”
They were talking about her. Weren’t they? But she did remember. Didn’t she?
Her name was Paige.
Her mother said to pack. They would leave soon. No one would bother them again. But Father . . . Father was . . .
“. . . accident . . . autopsy . . . funeral . . .”
Father was dead?
Paige heard more murmurs out in the hall before she sensed the presence in the room. The unmistakable breathing of someone—and not her. She could hardly believe the sneer in the man’s words the instant they registered.
“I hear Daddy’s dead.”
Her nostrils flared at the pungent scent coming off his body. He leaned over her. The bed creaked with the weight of his arms, and a tendril of fear took hold in the pit of her belly. He thrust his next words into her ear, words that chilled down to the marrow of her bones.
“Remember what I told you, hmm? Be a good, good girl, Paige, and stay very, very quiet. If you dare open your mouth I swear to God I’m going to break your boyfriend into tiny little pieces. And then I’m going to break you.”
A sound welled in the back of her throat, a cry for help, but it died when he squeezed her upper arm hard enough to cut off her blood supply. He released her. “Good girl. Don’t forget.”
She tossed her head and moaned. Mother. Seconds passed, minutes. Hours?
He was gone— and she did not want to lie here. Felt restless. She needed to do something. Something important. Something she should run to, far and fast and hard, but her stupid legs—
“Paige?”
The voice. It struck her like lightning. She fell utterly still, stiller than still. Her lungs froze in her chest and her ears strained for more of that hoarse, male rasp. First she heard footsteps.
Her body tensed at each of the five steps that brought the speaker closer, and her mind went blank while she frantically waited to listen. Her world narrowed down to that one whisper he uttered—
“Paige, it’s me.”
Me.
Unexpectedly, as though this voice were all she needed to set loose a well of emotion, her lips began to tremble. A hot fat tear leaked from the corner of her eye.
A second followed down her cheek, and the moment a flat, callused thumb gently began to swipe it, she impulsively turned her face into that hand. She ached to weep into it. Let “me” catch all her tears.
She began to sob in earnest, and a second hand engulfed her left cheek. She heard a gruff “fuck,” while he furiously tried to wipe the tears away. He seemed as desperate to stop them as she ached to set them free. “Oh, fuck.” Long fingers spread open to hold her, heels of his palms cradling her jaw. His hands shook.
She willed her eyes to open but they stung. Her lashes felt stuck together with Super Glue and she hated that they would not obey her mind. A sound full of distress and frustration burst from her lips. He tilted her head back a fraction and his warm, ragged breath misted across her forehead. Soft dry lips brushed across one closed eyelid, then the other. “Shhhh. I’m here.”
When the hot, moist flick of his tongue lapped the tears from the corner of one eye, her stomach exploded with emotion. The breath shuddered out of her.
His mouth trailed down the other cheek while he rained kisses on her.