Page 43 of The Making of Marnie Jones

Jake ran his hand along the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “She's willing to meet with you, but it has to be on her terms.”

“Her terms.” Wolf tensed.

“We have to spring her from this joint.”

“No.”

The ferocity of Wolf's response made Marnie jump. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around her waist, cowering from both Wolf and Jake. Her heart raced, and she fought the urge to run. The uncontrollable shivers hit hard, and she could do nothing to stop them. The voices sounded distant, and she grasped for meaning. Something about withdrawal. Something about almost dying twelve days ago. She couldn't hold on to the words.

“Marnie.”

Jake's voice.

“Marnie.”

Louder. More insistent.

He made a move toward her, but Wolf stopped him. Jake clearly bristled against the restraint.

She forced herself not to step back.

“Marnie.”

“Hmm?” Could they hear her heart pounding? She needed to get her shit together.

Fight it. God damn it, fight it. You’re okay. They won’t hurt you. No one is going to touch you.

“You're shivering, Marnie. You need to put your sweater on.” Jake’s tone was gentle and persuasive, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

She looked at the item of clothing folded over her arm as if she'd never seen it before.

“Put it on, please.”

She continued to hold his stare. Slowly she unfolded the sweater, then she put it on. It wasn't so much the sweater as the forced relaxing of her stance that eased the shivers. With great effort, she resisted the urge to yet again wrap her arms around her waist.

Get a grip.

“Are you okay?”

“Better.” She fought to find the strength of her conviction. “Better.” Her voice was a little louder as the constriction from the anxiety attack loosened its hold on her throat.

“I'm sorry, Marnie.” Wolf’s expression was solemn. “I shouldn’t have let my temper get the better of me.”

“And I shouldn’t have overreacted.” She closed her eyes, willing away the last of the tremors. “What were you saying?”

“That removing Olivia from here is a bad idea. She almost died twelve days ago—and was probably using before. God only knows whether she's headed for physical withdrawal as well as any psychological issues.” Wolf gestured to Jake. “He disagrees.”

Jake gestured wildly in frustration. “My point is, short of seeking another psychiatric hold, she's going to walk out of here. Better into our custody where we can keep an eye on her than letting her go back to the streets. Even if we knew where Lydia was…”

He let the sentence hang.

“We help her leave here.” Marnie looked between the two men who, giants that they were, towered over her.

Both scowled.

“We explain the repercussions, and give her the option. If she’s still adamant she’s going to leave, we create a safe environment for her.”

“The condo.” Jake’s offering.

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