Page 37 of Love Takes Home

Mable the Diner Lady: What’s SDE?

Elle Workman: **This comment has been removed from an administrator. **

Jim Klein: Our thoughts and prayers go out to one of our own from BCHS. We will release an official statement when we know more.

**Comments on this post have been turned off**

Well, thank goodness they turned off the comments before we could delve into the political bullshit. As it is, there might be a rumble in the streets. Of course, I’d pay to see that, but seriously. Does anyone like anyone else in this town? Sometimes I have to wonder why my circle of friends is so special. Oh, right. Because we’re the ‘riff-raff’. Speaking of friends, I need to tell Elle I love her next time I see her.

I also love how people think they are anonymous online. I’d put money on who they are, but I already have a feeling I know. Anything to keep the negative attention on Ginny, right? Because if people are paying attention and talking about her, they aren’t seeing that something rotten is happening in our town.

I open up my other laptop and log into the hospital database. Don’t judge me. I pull up the record for Jimmy Martin. Notes say the kid will be alright, but had high levels of MDMA, an amphetamine-based drug like X or Molly. It looks like there are also opioids in the kid’s system. That’s a crazy combo, and one that could absolutely drop a kid while he was standing on two feet. The report states there wasn’t enough in his system to be considered an overdose, but they are blaming the cardiac event on the drugs. I mean, the kid had a better chance of making it through a football game shooting straight adrenalin into his system. Where the hell did he get that shit?

I email the office asking them to look into it. Maybe they’ve heard of a new designer drug on the streets. This isn’t good. If that shit’s made its way here, there’s no telling where else it is. I think about digging for more information about the mystery woman with the generic name, but I close both laptops and sit back in my chair.

Ginny’s in my house. And she let me touch her tonight. God, I wanted her. Has it really been enough time for her to move on and move forward? Do I need to slow down and give her space? Be more aggressive? Fuck! I wish I knew the right thing to do here.

I stand up and turn off the light, closing the door behind me as I move into the hallway, when I hear a noise from Ginny’s room. It’s her, but what is she doing? Crying? Is she moaning or groaning? Wait, a whimper? I cross the hallway and crack her door open, only to see her tossing and turning on the bed.Thrashing is more like it. She’s talking, but it’s not coherent. I watch her for a minute to make sure she’s alright, but I don’t want to wake her. I remember that apart from the nightmare itself, it was horrible when someone woke me during them. I wouldn’t know where I was and couldn’t separate reality from the grasp of whatever my mind was trying to fuck me up with. I would lash out. For years, I lived with the fear that if I slept with someone and had a nightmare that I would hurt them.

While I’m watching, Ginny sits up in bed, breathing hard. Her eyes roam around the room like a wild person. I know she’s not fully awake, but I have to let her know she’s okay.

“Ginny,” I say softly, trying to get her to focus on me. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re at my house.”

“Joker?” she croaks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare. But you’re awake now. Everything is okay.”

“But it’s…it’s not okay.”

“What’s wrong?” The hair on my arms stands up at the pain in her voice.

“I can’t save them.”

“Can’t save who?”

“Harper and Owen. Lottie. Elle. Me.”

“Who are you saving them from?”

“The bad people. I can’t save them. I lose them, and I can’t save them.”

“Tell me.” I walk farther into the room and sit on the side of the bed, taking her hand in mine, rubbing what I hope is soothing circles on her palm.

“It’s always the same. Someone is chasing us. And just as I’m about to save them, they dissolve in front of me. I hear them scream, but I can’t save them.”

“Is it always just those people?”

“Always.” She nods her head.

“Do you know who’s chasing you?”

She shakes her head. “It’s different.”

“Who was chasing you tonight?”

“Keith. He was chasing me tonight. Everyone else disappeared, and it was just me running from him.”

I put my phone on the bedside table and adjust myself so I’m leaning against the headboard and pull her into my arms. “I’m sorry. Have you been having these long?”