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I silently do as he asks, watching him work. Once he has the needle removed from her arm, he tapes a Band-Aid over the site and holds it in place for a moment. He scans over her fine features, finally acknowledging, “She sure is a pretty one. I will give her that, but damn if she isn’t Hell on wheels to deal with.”
“You’ll get no argument from me, but next time I say to up a dose—“
“Yeah, yeah, Travis, I hear you loud and clear,” Jared says as he retrieves another needled syringe. This particular syringe holds a microchip implant that gets injected into the back of her hand, between her thumb and forefinger. Technology hasn’t advanced far enough yet to make the microchips trackable, but they still hold many uses.
I watch Julianna for any signs of stirring as Jared wipes down her hand with an alcohol wipe before injecting the chip into her hand. She didn’t even flinch a muscle, and that sucker was a large-ass needle. “One more shot to go,” he whispers. That would be the birth control shot. When Jared is finished, I grab the tracking device and wrap it around her left ankle, locking it in place. Finished, Jared cleans up and puts everything back into his black leather bag.
I turn to face him, saying, “I’m going to stay here for a little while to make sure she’s settled. I’ll catch up with you in a few.”
Jared nods his head. “No problem, she will undoubtedly sleep until dinnertime. You should probably make sure she eats, since she has nothing in her stomach. She’s still going to be fairly drowsy this evening and will most likely sleep through the night without needing any more drugs.”
“Yeah, and she’s emotionally spent on top of it all,” I add, another reason she’d be drained tomorrow, as well. Jared leaves, and I lay back down beside her. I roll her onto her side and pull her close to me again. Shit, I feel like I could take a nap I’m so exhausted. Only a few hours have passed, and I feel like I’ve been wrestling a damn tiger all day. I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck, giving her a chaste kiss.
Her petite body just feels so right in my arms; she fits me like a glove. Despite her circumstances, I can only wish she’ll come to look to me like she did before Jared’s confession—with hope and perhaps a flash of desire in her eyes. I want to become that beacon of hope for her once again. But why give her any hope? I ask myself. I close my eyes in defeat, knowing I can’t offer her a damn thing. I’m not her rescuer or a knight in shining armor, and as much as I don’t want to, I’ve got a job to do.
Even though she doesn’t know I’m here now, I lay with her for a long while anyway, listening to her steady breathing. I take comfort in the fact she will have a few hours reprieve from the nightmare she’s living. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” I whisper over her. I’m sure anything I do from here on out, she’ll think I’m always playing a game with her, manipulating her. Maybe I am; maybe I’m not. I’m beginning to wonder myself what the hell I’m doing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
~Jules~
I wake up to an obnoxious buzzing sound. Crap, it’s the alarm clock, and for a split-second, I think I’m back in Boston and need to get up for class. My eyes stay closed as my hand fumbles out from the warm comfort of my blanket, blindly searching for the snooze button. I smack the button and silence ensues—there are no sounds of my roommates fighting over the bathroom, or music playing from one of the other rooms, or racket out in the hallway—and it’s then I remember where I am.
I curl my body under the fluffy, white comforter, feeling its soft weight on top of me. I feel too comfortably-sedated within the confines of my bed to find it within myself to really be upset, or to even contemplate getting up. I’ve been given enough drugs for a football team over the past two days, and my poor system is in revolt.
I believe being inoculated by all those high doses has finally caught up to me. I barely remember Travis feeding me dinner last night before I passed out again. My stomach rumbles at the thought of food, and rolling over to look at the alarm clock, I see it says 9 am. Whoa, is that an accident, or did they let me sleep in on purpose? I reach over to switch the alarm button to the ‘off’ position so it won’t go off again when the snooze timer runs out, and I notice a Band-Aid on the inner part of my forearm. My brow furrows; that was not there last night. In fact, Travis gave me a shot in the shoulder, not the inside of my forearm. Those bastards came in and stuck me again when I was sleeping at some point in the night. Another Band-Aid draws my attention to the backside of my right hand. What the hell? I’m beginning to feel like a pincushion. My stomach rumbles again, and I’m reminded I should probably eat, since I ate very little yesterday.
