Page 147 of Taste of Addiction

There’s movement at the doorway. “I just checked on him and”—Paul enters the room—“he’s doing great. He’ll be here to see you as soon as he finishes up with his doctor.”

“How do I ever thank you both for saving me?” I ask, tears running down my cheeks and soaking into my hospital gown. “I could have—” My body shudders as it all becomes real.

Both men cast their eyes downwards, as they know my next word.

“I’m just glad we got there in time,” Collins says softly.

Paul offers me a weak smile. “You were so brave, Angie.”

“I’m sorry I disrupted your mission from the moment I became aware of the druggings. I could have gotten myself killed for the sole purpose of aiming for a career in a field I am not even sure I am cut out for.”

“We are just glad you are safe, ma’am.”

“Is it over? All the bad guys caught?”

“Yes,” Collins says with a smile of relief. “It’s done.”

“Did anyone…”Die?

Collins shakes his head. “Everyone you care about made it out of the underground tunnels safely.”

“I remember being there, but I don’t remember the ending. Everything is a bit fuzzy. You carried me away. I kind of remember the ladder. Climbing to safety. But then I blank.”

“Graham and Nic had a showdown with Tanner and his crew. Paul, I meanCarson,” Collins corrects, “got banged up quite a bit. We’re just glad he was able to protect you for as long as he did. The FBI moved in and several members were arrested without bond. Including the main leader, The Prophet, who was really…”

“Dr. Williams,” I whisper, still trying to wrap my head around that piece of information. “It is crazy how his prestigious influence allowed him to get away with pushing drugs and orchestrating all of these nefarious acts without getting caught for so long.”

“You are a hero, Angie.”

“I don’t know about that. I feel like I messed up along the way not coming clean with my intentions from the very beginning. I’ll always wonder if all of this could have really been avoided or if it was always inevitable. But I wouldn’t call myself a hero. Just stubborn.”

“You helped Graham and Nic find you and gave them just enough information to be warned before getting to you.”

I rub at my eyes. Wetness coats my fingers, and I suddenly feel cold. A blanket gets pressed to me, as I drift into the hollows of my own dark thoughts.

The beady eyes of Owen. The mystery of The Prophet. The pain and helpless feeling of trying to scream and not being able to make a decibel of sound.

I hover here, in this unknown, negative space. Like I am trapped. A victim to my own fears, as I doze off again.

* * *

“Graham!” I yell and bolt up.

“Calm down, Miss McFee.”

I open my eyes to see Collins’s concerned face looking at me. His hands push me back into the mattress of the hospital bed. A damp cloth dabs my forehead, and I cough up the phlegm that collects at the top of my lungs.

I am safe from my nightmares.

“Here’s a drink.”

I look up at the glass of water held out to me by Nic. His warm smile makes me want to cry. “Are you okay?” I ask, looking at his face bandages. I quiver back into the mattress and look to Collins for reassurance.

“Just a minor scrape,” Nic says softly. “Could be worse.”

“Did anyone get burned in the fire?”

“Nothing major on that front,” Collins answers. “Luckily we were able to run into another passageway before things got really bad.”

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