Page 175 of Hunt for You

And they said God didn’t have a sense of humor.

54. Can You Hear Me?

SOUNDTRACK:Shoutby Sleeping Wolf

~ BRIDGET ~

ME: Sam, I almost died.

ME: I had what they’re calling a *cardiac event.*

ME: I really want to talk to you.

ME: I hate you.

ME: I also think I love you.

ME: Who are you?

ME: Have we met?

ME: I wish you were here.

It was almost a week before they let me out of the hospital. I’d felt fine after the first two days, but the doctors kept insisting I needed “monitoring.” They gave me back my phone, but not my car keys.

I suspected Jeremy’s hand in that. Or maybe Gerald since he said he wasn’t going to sleep from the moment they discharged me.

But I did everything they asked me to. Took every pill, ate every bite, and answered every question with a tone as close to helpful as I could manage. And eventually they had to admit that I was fine.

Well, I was as fine as I had ever been.

Jeremy had already said that he’d give me a ride home from the hospital when they discharged me. But I might have chatted with a nurse who’d heard rumors about me and shared earlier in the week that she’d suffered in former toxic relationships. Imighthave implied that Jeremy was an abusive ex-boyfriend, and gotten her help to get out of the hospital before he showed up the morning I was discharged.

She even helped me rent a car so I didn’t have to drive mine because they had the keys, and I knew they’d have trackers on it.

When I got home I was wearing hospital sticky-socks, because no one knew what had happened to my shoes. But at least they’d found the rest of my clothes.

And it turned out they’d returned my car to my garage. Which meant they’d also been inside my house.

I parked the rental out on the street.

The first thing I did when I walked in the door was cry. In the shower.

Then, with red eyes and wearing my pajamas, I ventured into my office. And even though nothing had changed, and I couldn’t find anything that had been moved, somehow I knew… Jeremy had sent a team here.

So my car had trackers. And my computer had either been replicated, or was now infested with some kind of mirroring software.

They’d see everything I did.

So, I did what they expected and checked into the dark web, answered messages from Nate. Checked Cain’s profile. And even opened my email, though I ignored the one from Jeremy, because pissing him off was a little tiny thread of joy in the middle of an entire existence of… numbness.

For a second, I considered going back toVigorí, just to see if I could drum up some enthusiasm forsomething.But no… When I thought about getting railed by some random Dom my heart rate barely went up.

God, I was dead inside.

I went to bed, and I actually slept…

…and when I woke up the next morning I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, or see, or be seen. My blood felt sluggish and cool. I had no energy, and no motivation.