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Ian grunted in agreement. “Well, she must have told him everything that was going on and he . . . he didn’t take it well. He got into a rage and ended up badly hurting himself. Jameson has had him admitted.”
This was turning into a giant shit show.
Jack just had to hope they found someone who knew where their girl was.
51
Something was really wrong with her.
She knew that because she kept hallucinating. She kept seeing Jack and Ian. Even Jameson.
They would come to her to tell her to be brave. At any moment, they were going to find her.
But no one was coming.
How long had she been here? Three or four nights? She was losing track. Everything was hazy.
It felt like none of this was real. That she’d wake up and find that her ribs weren’t hurting. That her eye wasn’t swollen shut. That her wrists weren’t being rubbed raw.
She’d be back in that house. With her guys. With Uncle Willy.
She hoped someone was looking after him.
What a tosser she’d been to think she could take care of him. She couldn’t even take care of herself.
Jameson was right. It was neglectful not to have a plan in place. What would happen now? Her mum would have to step up and God knew what she’d do.
Reaching up, she tugged at her hair until pain slashed through her scalp. She didn’t know why she was still pulling her hair when she was already in so much pain. But this was a pain she had control over.
Stupid, right?
A whimper escaped her as she heard something. She didn’t want the woman to come back. When she wasn’t here, things were better. She got water. Some food, even though she didn’t eat it.
“Shh,” someone whispered.
The voice was feminine. But it wasn’ther.
“I drugged the guards, but just in case we should be quiet. We don’t want anyone to know I’m here.”
“Who . . . who are you?” she whispered.
“Best you don’t know that. Then when you’re questioned once I get you back, you can say you don’t know. See? KISS.”
“You want me to kiss you?”
A small giggle. “No, silly. It’s an acronym. I like them. Keep It Simple Stupid. See?”
“Yeah, I like silly sayings too. I’m thinking of becoming a T-shirt Queen. I’ll have an empire. Things like: Don’t get kidnapped, it sucks.”
“Hey, I like that. It has a nice ring to it.”
“Thanks. Thought of it all by myself.” She sniffled. “Are you a figment of my imagination?”
The other woman grasped hold of Maggie’s hands and started to do something to the cuffs. “Sometimes, I think I’m a figment ofmyimagination.”
“That’s deep,” Maggie told her. “Can I use that for my T-shirt empire?”
“Sure, babe. Happy to help.”
