Page 19 of Saved by Him

Nine

That beeping was damn annoying,but I had an idea that it was important. I wasn’t yet sure why, but it’d come to me eventually, I was sure.

For now, I was content with my change in circumstances. I had an inkling that they were supposed to somehow be worse than they had been, but I didn’t have the energy to question it. Instead, I stared up at the ceiling and enjoyed the fact that I was warm and laying on something much softer than the floor.

“I was hoping you’d come,” I said as I heard the scrape of a chair. I didn’t need to look over to know who was sitting there. I would know him anywhere.

“Rona? You’re awake?”

Fingers closed around mine, but I still didn’t look. With everything that had happened, a part of me knew that my brain wasn’t quite all back to normal, but I was okay with talking to hallucinations. On some level, I was aware that I’d been doing it since I was drugged the first time. It was how I’d coped in my basement cell, and it would get me through whatever came next.

“I’m not sure,” I answered slowly.

“Not sure what, baby?” His voice was soft, and it made me smile.

“Not sure if I’m awake.” I turned my head finally, grimacing at the ache in my muscles, but it was worth it to see his face again.

Even though he looked rough. Stubble, dark shadows under his eyes, wrinkled clothes.

My hallucinations were getting even more detailed than they had been before.

“Why’s that?” he asked as he smoothed his free hand over my forehead.

“Colors have been talking,” I whispered.

His eyes widened slightly. “Really? And what have they been saying?”

I shrugged. “All sorts of things. We played games, but sometimes they cheated. You and Clay wouldn’t play with me. All you ever wanted to do was talk.”

“We talked.” He made it a statement rather than a question.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course we talked. All the time. You and me and Clay.”

There was a pause, and for a moment, something real flickered across his eyes. But it couldn’t be real because I hadn’t escaped. Serge had caught me, and I’d been sold. I still remembered that. So even if I was somewhere warm and laying on something soft, it was only because the person who bought me wanted me healthy so that he could hurt me however he wanted.

“I liked that you were getting along,” I admitted. “It was nice, being able to talk to both of you together.”

He got a thoughtful look on his face, and he rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “Clay really means a lot to you, huh?”

I nodded. “He’s family.” I scowled. “Not exactly, since that’d be gross, but you know what I mean. Clay was there, even after Anton died.”

“You need him.”

I shook my head. I didn’t like the way he sounded. Sad. Resolved.

“He’s a friend. That’s all.”

“And what am I?”

If he hadn’t been an illusion inside my head, I would’ve thought he was talking to himself, but since he wasn’t real, I answered him with the simplest, most straightforward response I could give. “You’re everything.”

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