“I don’t know,” I admit, adjusting the bag of peas against his throat. “Wait, I guess. Hope nothing comes lurking in the dark.”
A rough laugh escapes him.
“Great plan.”
“Thanks. I spent a lot of time on it.”
The corner of his mouth twitches before fading again.
“I thought you were dead.”
The words slip out before I can stop them.
Casey’s hand stills against my leg.
“When he grabbed you...” My voice catches. “I thought that was it.”
For a long moment, neither of us says anything.
Then he sets the tweezers aside.
“I thought he was going to hurt you.”
I blink.
“The way those guys were looking at you...” His jaw tightens.
Something twists painfully in my chest.
Because even now, with a handprint circling his throat, he’s worried about me.
His hand finds mine.
He doesn’t say anything, just threads our fingers together and holds on like he’s drowning, and I’m the only thing keeping him afloat.
Or maybe it’s the other way around.
Eventually, Casey pushes himself up from the floor with a tired grunt and drops onto the couch beside me.
The cushion dips beneath his weight.
For a second we just sit there shoulder to shoulder, staring at absolutely nothing.
Neither of us seems interested in moving.
After a while, his head tips back, his breathing evens out. Deepens. His hand goes slack in mine, heavy with sleep. I don't let go. I count the seconds between each inhale, a quiet anchor in the ringing silence.
I try to sleep. I really do. I close my eyes and will my brain to shut down, to rest, to forget.
But the darkness behind my eyelids isn’t empty. Every time I drift toward sleep, I see teeth. Red eyes. Casey dangling by his neck, feet kicking, face turning purple.
It isn’t until the sun is coming up, smudging light through the blinds, that my eyes finally get too heavy, and I drift.
Chapter Thirteen
SILLY PEPPERONI
Darkness surrounds me.
