With great care, North gently places me in the back seat. The scent of the BMW immediately envelops me, a mixture of expensive leather and the familiar smell of North’s cologne. I feel strangely comforted by it. Nash seems to take the driver’s seat while North climbs in next to me, cradling me against his chest, his arms protectively encircling me.
Whispering softly in my ear so only I can hear, North reassures me, “You’re safe, baby. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again.”
His words are the last thing I hear before I’m pulled under.
SIXTEEN
The room iscold and sterile. The fluorescent lights overhead hum, their sound a constant reminder of where I am. I’ve been refusing to take the meds they want to give me, not trusting what they might do to me. But today, they’re not taking no for an answer.
They dragged me to what seems like an examination room, and I already feel the bruises forming from their rough grip on my upper arms.
The door opens, and a doctor steps in. He is tall, with white hair and large glasses. He looks at me with a mixture of pity and concern. “Ms. Wilson,” he begins, “I heard you’ve been refusing your tablets. I’m sorry, but I must insist that you take them. You need these medications. They’ll help quiet the voices in your head and stop you from seeing thoseghosts.”
He saysghostsas if it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.
Really?
You work in a mental hospital, buddy. I bet there are far stranger things here.
I shake my head frantically. “I don’t see ghosts! This is all a misunderstanding. I want to call my grandmother or a lawyer.Examine me if you want to. No one has examined me since I got here. You’ll see I’m not crazy.”
The doctor just looks at me sadly. “Ms. Wilson, you’re in a manic state. We’re going to do everything we can to help you.”
I feel a surge of desperation. “Please, just let me go. I promise I’m okay.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I curse myself.
Why can’t I just keep my cool for once?
He will never believe I’m not crazy if I sit here a crying, blubbering mess.
But he’s turning away, signaling to the nurses.
“No, please!” I yell, trying to stand, but the nurses are already by my side, holding me down.
“The more you struggle, the harder you make this for all of us, Ms. Wilson. I’ll see you again next week. We’ll assess how you’re feeling and if we need to adjust the dosage.” With those words, the doctor leaves me alone with them.
One of the nurses holds a small cup filled with pills while the other grabs my arm, pulling me up. I struggle, trying to break free, but they’re too strong, and I have no strength left in me after spending days tied down with little food being offered.
The nurse with the pills tries to force them into my mouth, but I clamp my lips shut. He grows frustrated, grabbing my chin and squeezing hard to force my mouth open. His fingers dig into my throat with a pressure that makes it hard to breathe. I gasp, and he seizes the opportunity to shove the pills into my mouth.
With a scream lodgedin my throat, I wake up, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to break free from my chest. It takes a moment for me to register where I am, and the realization only serves to heighten my anxiety.
This is their guestroom.
North, Nash, and Hunter’s place.
I sit up abruptly, panic coursing through me. My memories from last night are hazy at best, but I can’t shake the feeling that something awful happened. My hands tremble as my gaze finds the bedside lamp, the soft glow of light radiating from it, even though the room is already bright because it seems to be morning. Someone placed a boombox on the nightstand, which softly plays a tune.
“You’re okay, Boo. It was just a dream,” Saylor reassures, and I only now see that he’s leaning against the wall on my left, his lips turned down. “At least just now.”
He seems tense and agitated, but before I can ask him what’s wrong, the door, which was ajar, swings open. North, Hunter, and Nash spill into the room, all looking a little disheveled and frantic.
“Blue.” North’s voice is steady, though, as he’s standing at the edge of the bed by my feet, concern etched across his face. “We heard you scream. Are you all right?” I look from one to the other, unsure what to do, so I just nod. “You’re safe. We got you in time. Do you remember anything?” North pries.
My head throbs as I struggle to piece together the fragments of my memory. “I… I don’t know. Everything’s fuzzy.” I rub my temples, trying to clear the mental fog. “How did I get here?”
Saylor huffs, looking down at the floor and kicking the carpet.
