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Yes, she thought. She must be hallucinating again.
Light filtered through her eyelids as Carmine’s voice grew louder. She forced her eyes open at the sound, blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear her vision. Everything was hazy, but she could make out the familiar face, the sight of it nearly stilling her weary heart.
It didn’t even seem to want to beat right anymore.
Carmine turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. They were clearer than everything else, the green color striking amidst the fog. “Fuck!” he spat, sending chills through her body. Her vision blurred more, and she blinked rapidly, anxious to stay conscious. “Fucking ninja, you scared me!”
“Carmine?” She winced from the burn in her throat.
“Yeah, it’s me. I told you I’d find you. I was never gonna give up.” His voice was fueled with emotion as he ran his hand along her cheek. “God, I fucking love you.”
She tried to reach for him, but the movement sapped every ounce of energy from her. Everything went black again as soon as her hand dropped, noises fading out as if she were drowning again.
“Happy new year,” she whispered as he disappeared.
50
Haven had no way to gauge how much time had passed while she was out—it could have been hours or days, even months before she slowly started having moments of clarity, ones she knew were real because of the pain. She heard noises during one of her spells and pushed to regain consciousness. She was in a dark room, but she could make out a form standing a few feet away. “Dr. DeMarco?”
“Yes, it’s me.” He pulled out a stethoscope and pressed it against her chest. She jumped from the unexpected coldness, pain ricocheting through her from the movement. “Try not to move.”
“It hurts,” she said, tears falling.
“I know it does.” He placed his hand against her forehead, and she lay as still as possible as he checked her over. The scene was dreamlike. “You’re not real.”
Dr. DeMarco’s brow furrowed. “I’m not real?”
“You’re not really here,” she said. “I’m dreaming again.”
“Oh, I’m really real.” He paused as a small smile took over his lips. “At least, I think so.”
She tried to smile in response, but she was weak and wasn’t sure if it worked. “I don’t understand. How did you get here? Where’s Carmine?” Fear paralyzed her. “Did Nunzio kill him?”
She tried to sit up as she looked around the room frantically, but Dr. DeMarco blocked her. “Calm down, child.”
“I can’t.” Her voice cracked. “Where is he? Is he hurt? Is that why he isn’t here?”
“He’s fine. He just had something to take care of.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously as he averted his gaze. “What?”
“It’s not important right now,” he said. “Carmine will be back soon, and he’ll be elated you’re awake.”
Nothing made sense. “I’m confused.”
“I imagine you are.” He gave her a wary look. “You were drugged when you were away.”
“Drugged.” Flashes of memory hit her. A man injecting her a few times, his voice unfamiliar.
“I assume it was their way of keeping you subdued. You probably don’t remember much, and it’s best you don’t strain yourself trying to.” His tone told her he meant business. “Your body overdosed on the medication, so when you came off it you went through withdrawal. It would’ve been best to take you to a hospital, but there was no way to explain your condition along with the thiopental and phenobarbital in your system.”
“What are they?”
“They’re some powerful drugs we use at the hospital. I’m assuming that’s where Jen came into play. Thiopental is, uh . . .” He looked wracked with guilt. “It’s what I’ve given you a few times. In low doses it will subdue someone, but higher doses result in a coma. The other slows brain function. With those two used together, I’ll be shocked if you remember anything at all.”
She started to reply but stopped abruptly when he pulled out a syringe. History told her nothing good came from needles.
“Morphine for the pain,” he explained when he noticed her reaction, gently picking up her arm. She glanced at the IV attached to her, watching as Dr. DeMarco injected the drug into her vein. “You were in bad shape when we found you.”
