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Her mother looked sadly up at Dr. Horst. Shook her head.
Blair’s arms tightened. “Sorry, Liv. Remember, I am your friend.”
She struggled, panicked. “Like hell you are. You guys can’t do this to me! It’s not legal!”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong about that.” Amelia’s voice had a taunting tone. “We can prove you’ve been kidnapped and brainwashed. That you’ve been physically and sexually abused. You are a danger to yourself and to those around you. The paperwork is drawn up. It’s incredibly painful for us, but we have to do what’s best for you, honey. All that remains is to get that person behind bars, where he belongs.”
“You idiots!” she shrieked. “Sean didn’t kidnap me! Hesavedme! Let go!” She flailed, stomped, tried to knee Blair in the groin.
She felt a sting in her arm. Horst was pushing down the plunger of a hypodermic. The effect was instantaneous, cutting her loose from her frantic desperation. She floated, detached. She couldn’t remember why it was so important to keep her knees locked, so she let them sag.
Blair hoisted her up against his chest, with considerable effort.
“Put her into this wheelchair,” Dr. Horst directed. “We’ll let her rest in the examining room while I go over some details on this paperwork with you. I want to get her settled into Belvedere by evening.”
Belvedere? The mental health clinic for depressed, drug-addicted socialites? Part of her wanted to shriek with laughter, but it wasn’t a part of her that had any motor control.
Blair tucked her into the wheelchair, straightening her lolling head. She stared into his eyes, in silent pleading. He lifted her fake blond hair, looked at T-Rex’s bite. He shook his head, and left.
Under the influence, she watched the wall grow wider, until it was as big as the sky.
She floated in the blue, longing for someone whose name she couldn’t remember. She remembered his face, though. How he shone.
The door to the main corridor opened, letting in a slice of light and noise from outside. A large cart with big canvas linen bags creaked in. She saw its bulk approaching. She could barely keep her eyes open, or her mouth shut. Let alone turn her head to look at it.
And then she smelled him—T-Rex. That bitter, awful stench.
Fear bloomed inside her, faraway but terribly real. So was the grief. Sean. The name came to her. She clutched at it, desperately.
So sad. That all of Sean’s heroic efforts should come to nothing, because she’d been so stupid, so credulous. The monster had come, and she’d never even thanked Sean for what he’d done. For his bravery, his passion, his sweetness. The lovely, shining truth of him.
The monster bent over her, dressed in hospital scrubs. His foul breath washed over her face. He bent close, gave her face a sloppy lick with his meaty red tongue. She was paralyzed, unable to flinch away.
“Oh, Olivia. I’m so glad to see you.” His voice was a raspy whisper.
He scooped her out of the wheelchair. Dumped her headfirst into the canvas bin, half full of dirty sheets. Wrenched one over her body.
The sound of the wheels creak-creaking below her head was the last thing she heard as she faded away, buried alive in the airless dark.
Miles’s laptoprevealed that Liv’s phone was in the Chamberlain Clinic. Sean was baffled, but glad that it was a public building where she would be relatively safe. At least the icon wasn’t blinking forlornly in a ditch somewhere. “Give me your keys,” he said to Davy.
Davy looked dubious. “If things go the way they usually do, you’ll get hauled off by the cops, and I’ll have to bail your useless ass out before I can retrieve my car keys.” He held up the flash drive, waving it. “Don’t you want to see what’s on this thing?”
“I’ve waited fifteen years for that. I can wait another half hour. Hand ’em over.” He waggled his fingers imperiously.
Davy sighed, flung the keys at him. Sean caught them, and bolted up the stairs and through Miles’s mom’s kitchen, deftly evading her as she tried to flag him down and stuff a sandwich into his face.
He called Liv’s phone repeatedly, as he speeded through town. His nerves were crawling so bad, he could barely keep from screaming.
Answer it, he willed her. For Christ’s sake. Have mercy on me.
He was so startled when a voice answered, he practically rear-ended the vehicle ahead of him. He screeched to a stop just in time.
“Liv?” he bellowed. “Where in holy hell are you?”
After a moment, an acid voice replied, “She’s right where she should be, Mr. McCloud. Safe with her family, and away from you.”
“Who is this?” he roared, and then realization hit, like an anvil in his face. “Oh, Christ, no. Don’t tell me. Is this Liv’s mom?”
