Page 71 of Girl Between
She hung between them, legs moving like an unstrung marionette as they shouldered her weight, guiding her out of the graveyard, the way they’d come.
It was like being in a strange dream where everything moved in reverse. Part slow motion. Part warp speed.
One second, she was staring at Claire’s bludgeoned body, then she was backtracking through a maze of tombs, until she arrived back at the cemetery gates. Silent police cars stood watch. Someone in a dark blue uniform stepped forward.
A paramedic?
Why was he talking to her? Dana didn’t need help. There was a body back at the grave site. That’s who the paramedics should be helping. Though deep down, Dana knew it was far too late for that.
The mutilated face that looked so much like Claire’s danced inDana’s mind again. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the queasiness that seized her.
Jake and George grumbled in unison, pushing past the paramedic’s offered assistance.
Dana was being wrapped in a thick, gray blanket, then bundled into the backseat of a car. The door slammed shut, and for a moment, the world went still, silent. She shut her eyes and told herself not to open them again. Not until whatever hallucination this was passed.
67
The world was still darkwhen Dana dared to crack her eyelids again.
Slowly, the shadows sharpened into shapes. A desk. A couch. Her bed. She was back at Hotel Monteleone.
Vague memories filtered through the dusky light illuminating her hotel room.
Jake, sliding into the backseat with her. His warm arms protectively holding her as the squad car ferried them away from the crime scene.
Jake, carrying her inside the hotel and up to her room. The gentle way he’d tried to get her to talk, only for her to push him away so she could hide her tears in the shower.
She pressed a hand against the tightness building in her chest.
Her fingers met foreign fabric. She paused, searching her memories.This isn’t my shirt.
She let her fingers trace the buttons of the pale blue dress shirt as she breathed in the scent. Familiar. Comforting.Jake.
It hit her all at once. This wasn’t her room. It was Jake’s. And she was wearing his shirt.
Her eyes sought him out, landing on a masculine slumbering shape.
There he was, Jake Shepard, asleep and shirtless, upright on the couch. A sliver of moonlight illuminated his scarred muscles, his Army tattoo standing out even in the shadows.
Dana fought her sudden urge to go to him. To ask him to make her forget. Like he had the last time they shared a bedroom.
But that’s what brought her to New Orleans to begin with.
And she knew better than to sneak up on Jake Shepard. Every inch of the man was a deadly weapon.
His suit jacket was draped neatly over the back of the sofa and his posture was relaxed, but that didn’t fool her. His eyes might be closed, his breathing steady, but she knew he’d purposely angled the couch to face the door. The slightest movement and his sixth sense would spring into action, his finger on the trigger of his Sig Sauer before an intruder could blink.
Dana let the protective gesture wrap around her like a warm blanket. After spending most of her life training herself not to rely on anyone, she hated that Jake’s overbearing presence soothed her. That she wanted him there. That he knew it.
Despite everything she’d said and done, she had her very own brooding gargoyle to keep the monsters at bay.
But he couldn’t tackle them all. Not when she battled demons immune to bullets. Ones who fed on her fears and tormented her mind.
Some had snuck their way in, others she’d invited. Still, she couldn’t quiet them. Not when they all said the same things.
Nothing good can last.
People always leave.
