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“Rohypnol? You got roofied?”

“Probably. We don’t know for sure. But it’s gone now.”

“God.” Jonah raked his fingers through his hair. “That’s the date-rape drug. Are you sure he didn’t…”

I shook my head. I’d wondered the same thing, but the doctor had done an examination, and there were no signs of sexual assault. Plus, I didn’t have any pain down there. “I checked out clean.”

“Thank God.” He pulled at his hair again. “I can’t believe any of this. How did you cut your hands? Is that why you’re here?”

I let out a little cough. “I’m here because…I was exposed to a lot of carbon monoxide.”

“What?”

“The man who took me, he tied me up and pushed me into a closed garage with a running car. He…” My voice shook. Tears formed in my eyes. “He wanted me to die like my patient did.”

Jonah stood again, his jawline tense. “Her parents are behind this. I’ll fucking kill them.”

“That’s my thought as well, but we don’t have any proof.”

He sat back down. “I’m so sorry. That’s not what’s important now. What’s important is that you’re okay. Tell me, sweetheart, how were you able to escape?”

In my crackling voice, I relayed the story to Jonah. Several times he tried to interrupt me, but I gestured for him not to. Finally, I said, “Somehow I remained conscious. My adrenaline was really moving. Dr. Hernandez says that although I didn’t inhale enough to kill me, I should’ve been unconscious.”

“Oh my God, baby. Oh my God.” He closed his eyes and then opened them. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I tried to. When I was hiding in my closet. I called 9-1-1, but it was busy. Can you believe that? Busy. Anyway, after that I tried to call you. It was Tuesday evening. But you didn’t pick up.”

His eyes widened into circles. “Oh my God,” he said again. “Oh my fucking God.”

“What? What is it?”

Chapter Eleven

Jonah

The call. The call from Melanie when Talon and I were about to leave for Denver to see Wendy Madigan.

I hadn’t picked up.

I’d been angry at her for leaving.

“Oh my fucking God,” I said once more.

“What is it, Jonah?”

How could I tell her? She was lying here in a hospital bed because of me. She could be dead right now. Only her own resourcefulness had saved her. I hadn’t saved her. She had cried out for me, and I hadn’t been there for her.

And then, when I’d gone to her loft and seen the police tape… Why hadn’t I investigated further?

More guilt.

Guilt had been a way of life for me for the last twenty-five years. Why had I ever thought that could change? I had wondered why Melanie hadn’t returned any of my later calls, after I changed my mind and wanted to speak with her. It was because she hadn’t been able to. She hadn’t had her phone. She had been locked up and then forced into a garage to die.

My God, I wasn’t worthy of her.

I wasn’t worthy of anyone.

“Jonah? Will you stay with me tonight? I know that chair won’t be the most comfortable in the world, but I… I need you here.”

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