Page 56 of Forget Me Twice

I’m lucky none of my Crew were here to witness this. Not that I think any of them would narc on me to Sebastian, necessarily, but…

I fucked up. Royally. I’ve broken the two key rules of mission engagement—Don’t lose your headandnever show weakness.There are Suits that have definitely been ‘retired’ for less.

Before I can slip into a spiral of further overthinking and self-dissection, something cuts through the quiet.

My still-addled brain takes a moment to interpret the noise, before finally translating it as the sound of the door snicking shut and feet shuffling across the threadbare carpet.

“Sabine?” A throaty voice calls out in a hushed voice.

“Over here,” I croak.

I’m relieved to find that my faculties are starting to recover and my tongue is working again. I suspect that my tolerance to narcotics after two years of drug abuse has worked in my favor, and instead of being a lethal dose—or at least a highly incapacitating one—the injection only knocked me on my ass.

Regardless, I think the worst of it has begun to pass.

There’s a beat of silence and then a shock of white hair is hovering over me. He has two faces that look kind of ghostly and transposed right now, but I’d recognize them anywhere.

“Wren. Hey.”Lord, it feels like I’ve been gargling glass shards and my voice sounds all kinds of wrong.

Wren’s eyes roam over my face in that casually detached way that he has. “I saw you come in here with Axel and Sloane. But you never came out after they all left.”

He runs a hand absently up his arm. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt tonight, and I can sort of make out that his tattoo sleeves are made up of dozens of tightly packed flowers. Briar roses, maybe? My vision is still doing gymnastics.

“What the fuck actually happened?”

I swallow a few times, trying to dislodge that harsh, sandpaper-like texture in my mouth and throat. “Dirty drugs. How long have I been in here?”

He glances at the door briefly, before dropping his gaze back to mine. “I don’t know, a couple of hours maybe? I was kind of preoccupied.”

I close my eyes, a quiet flush of relief in my chest. I’m almost positive now that their original plan included me not walking out of this roomat all, so a couple of hours? I’ll fucking take it.

My eyes open as I hear him let out a long, unsteady breath. “Do you…need me to call someone?”

I consider his offer as I do another sluggish inventory of my physical and mental state. Maybe Ishouldjust suck it up and get Rhett or Knox down here to take me somewhere safe.

No.No.

I got myself into this mess.

“Nah. I’ll be fine. It’ll take a lot more than whatever weak shit they just shot me up with.” That’s a lie. It wasn’t weak at all—I’m just so broken that the poison only managed to fill in cracks already formed by my habit instead of making more.

Wren’s pale eyebrows shoot up. Oops. I guess he’d just assumed I was in here doing this to myself.

Doeseveryoneknow about my habit?Fuck.

“How then?” He asks incredulously. There’s a scowl on his face. It’s probably the most emotion I’ve ever seen or heard from him.

I cough, wincing at the throbs of pain that reverberate through my ribs. “Donoghue and Byrne took me by surprise. King supplied and Sloane forced it into my arm. Shit fuckinghurt.”I moan. I haven’t felt that kind of pain or loss of control since my days with…

Let’s just say—it’s been a while.

He’s quiet. He knows what I’m not saying. That I initially followed King into the room of my own volition, hoping to scoresomething.

“Wait here,” he says, before turning and disappearing from my view.

“Sure thing,” I wheeze out into the empty room he leaves behind.

I still have no way to gauge how much time passes as I lay there, waiting for him to come back, but I do begin to notice sensation creeping back into my limbs, and that my thoughts aren’t nearly as scattered.

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