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“No. I’d never put you in danger, Wren.”
Maybe not on purpose, yet he had. He could have been followed. The sooner she got him to that center, the better.
Her frayed nerves seemed to unravel even more. Or maybe they wound tighter. She never could figure out her feelings when it came to…well, most of her life.
“You’re skinny, Wren.”
Danny’s statement had her snapping to attention.
“I don’t have much time to eat.”
Or the will to eat. Most days she was so sick and scared that her last living family member was out on the streets or worried about making ends meet on her crappy paychecks that her stomach hurt too much to put food into it.
She went to the fridge and got out the leftover cold pizza, from two days before. She set it on the table in front of him. “You can eat this in the car on the way to the center.”
He nodded and reached for the food.
The night was a blur of emotions and exhaustion. The hour-long drive to the facility seemed to take forever, and during that time Danny kept trying to give her details about the murder he’d witnessed.
She stopped him each time, but she could fill in the gaps far too easily for her peace of mind. She checked him in, giving her credit card information in hopes that she had enough of a credit limit to keep him there for a few days until she figured out something else.
Then she drove home, feeling emptier than she ever had in her life.
By the time she stepped into the much-needed hot shower, her nerves were far beyond frazzled. She let the water rush over her skin and filled her palm with a copious squirt of bodywash. She just felt icky—inside and out.
If only she could scrub her brain, but her mind never slowed down as it flew over a plan. If she got out of the shower now, and it took her the usual fifteen minutes to fall asleep…she’d still get five hours of sleep before tomorrow’s shift.
But the hot water feltso goodafter her long day. Maybe she could function on four and a half hours of sleep.
Expelling a frustrated sigh, Wren switched off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. Maybe she should try to eat something. Nibble on toast.
When she stepped into her bedroom, a cry burst from her throat.
A man was sitting on her bed. Waiting for her.
Fisting the towel tighter, she backed up a step. “Who the hell are you!”
“Where’s your brother?”
Panic swept her. She should haveknownthat Danny was followed here. This had to be the drug dealer.
All the sick dread swirling in her stomach after finding her brother in her apartment and hearing his story, plus the midnight run to the rehab center, had eased during her shower. Now it crash-landed in her gut like shards of glass. She took a step back but stumbled over nothing.
The drug dealer stood, extending to his full, menacing height, towering over her. “I’ll ask you one more time. Where. Is. Danny?”
She shook her head. “Not here.”
“But he came here. You saw him.”
She shook her head with more force. “I don’t talk to my brother. He’s always in trouble, and I’m trying to lead a decent life.”
His gaze shot to the nurse’s scrubs she’d stripped off next to her bed. “I can make you talk, woman. Tell me where he is!”
Fear numbed her brain and made her fingers tingle. She probably wasn’t breathing, which was lowering the oxygen levels in her system. After a few more minutes, she’d pass out.
She couldn’t pass out.
“Danny owes me money.” His gaze raked over her, up and down, up and down, lingering on the thighs that the towel didn’t cover enough of and her breasts bulging from the edge of the cloth.
