Dean opened the door and walked in. Still struggling with his news, Tia followed behind him blindly.
“Given the hour, I’m going to crash.”
She stared at him then let her gaze look around the small living room. She was desperate for sleep too. But where?
“You can sleep in my son’s bed.”
At his words she stiffened. He had a child. She could put them in danger. “It’s too dangerous to be here.”
“My son is staying at his grandma’s overnight. His bed is empty.” Dean crossed the living room to a set of stairs on the other side and walked straight up. He didn’t seem to care if she followed or not.
She hurried behind him. The living room was clean and masculine with large oversized furniture and a huge TV. A bay window and hardwood floors classed it up slightly. The stairs led to a small upstairs. Dean pointed to a room on his left. “This is where you sleep.” He pushed the door open wider. A superman comforter sprawled across the bed in a room already stuffed with evidence of a lively mind. From rocks to bats and a collection of balls to stuffed bears and a small easel full of paints.
She felt right at home.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Sleep. It’s already another day but a rest will make this look better.”
She doubted it, but she was willing to try it his way. Whatever energy she’d woken up with was gone. Just the thought of having slept for six weeks should have made sleep the last thing on her mind. Instead, her body, as if realizing how much unexpected movement had completely taxed her system, was ready to collapse.
There was a bathroom on the left. She waited until Dean entered the room at the end of the short hallway before slipping across to use the facilities. In the bathroom mirror, the face that stared back at her had zero color, and her eyes had grown to twice the size. Even she could see the fear lurking deep inside. With her hair long and desperately in need of a cut, she looked horrible.
She washed up quickly and walked across the hallway to lie down on the boy’s bed. Such an odd feeling to go from the hospital to here in just a few hours. She groaned softly. What had she done? Was her physical body okay? Did she need help or had she just slept long enough and it was the right time to wake up?
The thoughts spinning inside her head made no sense. Why had she been unconscious for so long? Her attack was still so clear in her mind, she was sure it had happened just yesterday.
She’d been sleeping on the bus the previous night before finding Simone.
That reminded her of something else. Where was her bag with the rest of her belongings?
She had them with her when she was attacked. She dimly remembered something about it.
Then she realized the cops would have found them. And that was likely to identify her as being in the hospital and then as having escaped. If they could pin that time frame together nicely, they’d likely say she’d returned to her friend’s house, got into an altercation with the boyfriend, killed him and ran.
After all, as far as they were concerned she was an escapee from a mental hospital.
Man, she could get into trouble even while sleeping.
She never thought she’d say it, but she should have stayed at the hospital under Stefan’s watch.
At least then she wouldn’t be suspected of murder – again.
With that last horrible thought ringing through her mind, she fell asleep.
*
“Stefan, I know.
I shouldn’t have brought her here, but I’ve been up for twenty-four hours and need sleep. I couldn’t leave her running around like a loose cannon getting into any vehicle she wanted and travelling who knows where. Look, Jeremy isn’t here right now. As soon as I’m awake I’ll take her back to the hospital.”
Stefan said, “It’s too late for that. She’s out and there won’t be any closing that box again. Damn.”
“What’s going on? I don’t know much about her mental state, but she’s not crazy. The stuff she can do – yeah, that’s crazy. I hadn’t expected her to not know how long she’d been in a coma either. She took it relatively well, considering.”
“Did she?” Stefan laughed. “I doubt it. The news probably hasn’t sunk in yet.”
“I’m hoping the time of death for our male at Simone’s place shows as being earlier than Tia’s escape. I’d hate to think that the police would jump onto her as a possible suspect.”
“Let’s hope not. If they find her prints they’ll be all over her anyway.”
“And why is that? She gave me a garbled explanation, but I never really understood it.”
“She’s good at that.”
Dean frowned. He hadn’t expected Stefan to know Tia that well, but why wouldn’t he? She’d been his responsibility at the hospital. “So what do you want me to do with her?”
“Sleep and I’ll think about it.”
For the first time Dean could hear the fatigue in his friend’s voice. “You need to rest too.”
“Sure, and maybe now that you are home with her I can. The hospital sent out the alarm an hour ago. I’ll call them to let them know she’s safe. We’ll need to collect the rest of her personal belongings as well, and then try to catch some shut-eye. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
After hanging up Dean headed for a shower. Lord he was tired. He just wanted to crash. But there was nothing like the smell of death to clog your throat and fill your nostrils. It was also damn hard to get rid of.
He finished his shower quickly. Afterward, dressed in clean boxers, he pulled the blanket back off the bed and was about to climb in when he heard something. A whimper? He frowned. Damn it. His son had nightmares all the time. They caused him no end of pain. Groaning, he walked the short hallway to check on his guest.
And froze.
What the hell? She lay on the bed, dressed in panties and a t-shirt, except the lower half of her body was missing.
She moaned again, flipped over and this time one leg appeared but the other was still missing.
Fascinated, he watched for a moment longer, wondering if she felt anything. If the energy of the missing pieces could send signals to her brain. And why was this happening when she was asleep? The nightmare?
He hated to stand there and watch but knew she had to be the only female in the world who could possibly do what she was doing.
Suddenly she cried out, her arms throwing up defensively in front of herself. And damn if her arms didn’t go invisible. He could still see her shoulders.
Did she know this happened when asleep? Should he take a picture? Show her? He didn’t know what to do. He took one step back out into the hallway, his gaze glued to the tormented women in front of him. This wasn’t good. He hated to see women in distress. This one was a prickly version, but her distress seemed even more than most.
That she suffered from major nightmares was obvious, but if they were based on issues from her life, well her life had been worse than he thought.
A sudden backfire from a truck outside on the street had him spinning around. Realizing what it was, he turned back for a final look at his guest and realized – she was gone. The bed was empty.
The covers straightened and clean – as if she’d never slept there at all.
He glanced around the room but couldn’t see any sign of her. Earlier if he looked sideways there was an odd shimmer he’d quickly come to associate as being her.
But he couldn’t see that same weird lighting effect now. He walked through her room looking.
“Tia? Are you here?”
But there was no answer.
T
ia leaned against
the wall, the shock waves still rippling down her body. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing. Dean was still in the bedroom while she’d booked it out to the hallway.
The combination of that nightmare – the same damn nightmare she’d had since puberty – the shocking sound of the truck backfiring and waking up to find an almost nude male standing at the doorway watching her, sent her body into overdrive.
Her heart still didn’t want to cooperate. She could feel her throat rasping as she tried hard to swallow. A cool breeze brushed down the hallway as Dean came out and stood, hands on his hips just feet beside her. She eyed him carefully. Could he see her this time? Then he cocked his head, looked directly at her and said, “Are you okay?”
Damn.
After a long moment she said, “I think so.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Sure. I’m used to waking up to men watching me sleep,” she snapped.
“I wasn’t. Not really. The reason I came in the first place was that you were crying out. I presume you have nightmares.”
“Such a mild word. As if what I have falls into that category.” She snorted. “But yes, as far as what you and the rest of the world would say, I have nightmares.”
“My son does too.” He gave her a small apologetic smile. “I couldn’t
not
check on you. But I didn’t mean…” he swept his arm toward the hallway, “to scare you so badly.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She sighed. “I live in running mode.”
“I see that.” He watched her, his gaze serious, steady. “You’ve hardly had any rest. Please go back, and I promise I won’t check on you if you cry out again.”
A broken laugh escaped. “Thanks for checking in the first place and sorry for overreacting.”
“Well your instincts are sound – a little overwrought maybe, but sound.” He smiled at her. “You’re safe here.”
“For the moment.” She walked back into the bedroom and added, “Until he finds me.”
She lay back down on the bed and curled up in a tiny ball. She listened to him walk down the hallway and close his bedroom door behind him. She hated this. The nightmare had set her off again, and now her mind refused to rest. God, this one had been bad. She’d be recovering for hours.
And she was so cold. She could crawl under the covers, but for some reason that felt like she’d be intruding.
She punched the pillow and rolled over – again.
It had to be almost morning. Maybe she should just leave.
But go where? Simone’s was out. Plus, six weeks ago she’d hoped for Stefan’s help. Now what? Six weeks? No wonder her body felt odd, out of control. As if not quite there sometimes. Uncoordinated. She groaned and flipped onto her back.
Her eyes had a gritty feel to them. She stared up at the ceiling and realized little plastic stars dotted the paint. For some reason that made her smile.
Just when she couldn’t stand it anymore, she heard Dean’s bedroom door open and Dean striding down the hallway toward her.
She sat up as he opened the door and walked in. “What’s wrong?”
“You,” he said in exasperation. “I can’t sleep with you thinking so loud.”
Before she knew what was happening, he’d bent down, scooped her up and strode with her in his arms back to his room. The room was lit with the early dawn sky. The bed had covers pulled back on one side only. A huge bed. A king size bed.
He shifted his grip, reached down and pulled back the covers on the side closest to them, then dropped her gently on the sheet below. She gasped in shock. But he tossed the covers over her head and snapped, “Now you’re safe. Sleep.”
Within minutes he’d settled into his side of the bed and fallen asleep.
Once she realized what he was doing, she’d frozen on the spot, her mind trying to figure out how long it would take her to get through the door. As he got in, the mattress lurched beneath her and she’d been waiting…for what she didn’t know…ever since. He looked to be in great physical shape but she was fast too. Nothing like years on the run to keep her honed and healthy.
In disbelief she heard the deep rattling snore. He’d actually fallen asleep.
What the hell? Why had he done that? He had freaking unbelievable hearing. Could he hear her tossing and turning? As if sleeping in a stranger’s bed was any better than sleeping on top of a child’s bed alone.
For some reason that made her grin.
She rolled over shoved the covers down to her shoulders. She gave another thought to assessing the danger and realizing she didn’t feel any…that life was calm and quiet and that he was right, somehow she felt…safe…and quickly fell asleep.
*