“Let’s get you into bed.”
I’m worried she’s going to lose consciousness again or get sick if I leave her alone. Once in her bedroom, I move tothe closet and search for something comfy she can slip on. I find a faded Willie Nelson T-shirt. I pull it out, along with a soft pair of leggings.
She watches me bring it over to where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed. I hold the clothes out, praying she can dress herself so I can turn around and try to clear my head of this haze of lust.
A knock sounds on the door.
“It’s me,” Ember says. “Housekeeping is here, and the doctor is en route. Do you need anything?”
“Can you get my brother to bring me my bag?”
“Sure.”
Her footsteps fade away.
“Did you really come all the way here because he’d sent me those flowers?”
Monroe’s voice steals my attention back.
She’s lying in bed, her head propped up on a pillow.
So, she didn’t see the dead bird.
“I came back to protect you from whatever else this sicko has planned. And I’m not leaving again.”
She lies back against the pillow, and her eyes drift closed.
23
MONROE
When I wake up, my room is cast in shadows. I blink, trying to clear the fog in my head as I sit up.
Cash came back.
A rush of heat washes over me.
We showered together.
The memory of his thumb brushing over my skin makes me arch my back. A movement from the bathroom draws my attention. A man pushes the door open. I gasp, terror paralyzing me.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” A wide grin spreads over his mouth. His dark eyes are sparkling with excitement. He has clean white teeth and curly brown hair. His skin is pale, like he’s rarely been out in the sun. His left ear has a notch in it. “Just came to get the laundry.” He holds up a white laundry bag.
That’s when I notice he’s wearing a hotel janitor uniform. I exhale, relief coursing through me.
“Sorry, you scared me.”
I fall back against the bed. My mouth has a foul taste. I drag myself out of bed and walk toward the bathroom. The man has moved over to the door.
Maybe he’s going to change the sheets.
I flip the light on and step toward my toothbrush. I squeeze out some toothpaste on it and start brushing. My head aches.
I turn to look at the glass shower. My mind conjures up the vision of Cash kneeling in front of me. I’ve filed the memory away as my permanent all-time favorite moment, right above performing to a sold-out Madison Square Garden.
I wish he’d stayed in bed with me.
My eyes focus, and I suddenly realize there’s another shape in the glass. I spin around, my heart jumping to my throat.