Page 46 of Mine
He was smothering me. Making damn sure I died one way or another.
The pain in my back intensified with every futile attempt to draw in air. I kept trying to slide or crawl away, but Paxton was far too strong for me to have a chance. He kept me pinned down with his heavy body, extending his right arm out on the floor in front of us for stability as his other hand yanked my head back and kept pressing down on my face, robbing me of breath.
As my lungs silently begged for air, I stared down at the arm splayed out in front of me. The bloodstained knife was lying right next to it. Some hazy part of my mind was grateful that the stabbing had stopped, while another part registered the sleeve covering the arm. It was the same jersey Paxton had worn all night. The same one I saw him wearing in the hall mere moments ago. I recognized the number emblazoned on the forearm—thirteen—and the big scorch mark from the bonfire just below it.
My vision began to blur and darken. The world around me became foggy, and my limbs grew heavy and unresponsive. My body was giving up.
A profound weariness washed over me, tugging me toward oblivion. I tried to fight it, but it was all-consuming. An irresistible promise of an end to the pain.
My eyes fluttered shut, and I finally surrendered to the darkness.
Sienna
A sharp pain shot through my head. I slowly opened my eyes, wincing as they adjusted to the fluorescent overhead light.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.”
A woman in scrubs was looming over my bed. She had smooth brown skin, curly hair, and friendly eyes that crinkled at the corners when she smiled.
“How are you feeling, hon?” she asked.
I tried to speak, but my throat was dry and itchy. I coughed and tried again. “Where am I?” I asked, my voice coming out in a croak.
“You’re in the hospital. You’re going to be okay,” the nurse said. “I’ll go and tell them you’re awake.”
“Why am I here?” I tried to rub my bleary eyes as I spoke. That was when I realized my wrists were restrained in stiff brown fabric cuffs on either side of the bed. My jaw dropped. “What the hell? Why am I tied down?”
The nurse replied in a soothing tone. “Try to stay calm. I’ll have someone deal with that for you.”
“Why are these on me?” I demanded, jerking against the cuffs. “Did I do something? Am I under arrest?”
“Try to stay calm,” the nurse repeated. “Take a deep breath. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then why am I restrained?”
“You were in quite a state when you were brought in last night, hon. The restraints were put on for your own protection. But don’t worry. You aren’t in any trouble,” she said, giving me another friendly smile. “Now, I’m going to tell them you’re awake. While I’m gone, take a few big breaths for me, okay?”
“Okay,” I said in a small voice, head sagging on the pillow. The pain in my head was growing, and my throat ached worse than the last time I had the flu.
I kept trying to remember what landed me in this hospital, but nothing came to me. All I could recall was hanging out with Tate and Michaela for dinner, studying until late with Michaela in my dorm, getting ready for bed, and then… nothing. Total blank.
Footsteps echoed in the hall, and my eyes widened as three people stepped into the room. One was obviously a doctor, judging by the white coat and clipboard, but the other two looked more like cops. They weren’t in uniforms, but they carried a distinct authoritative air about them; one that I’d grown used to in the days after the Forrester massacre.
“Hello, Sienna,” the one on the left said. He was a tall and imposing figure with a stern expression on his face. “I’m Detective Caswell, and this is my partner, Detective Steenkamp.”
As he spoke, he motioned to the other cop. She looked slightly more approachable than Caswell, but her piercing blue eyes held a glimmer of determination, hinting at her unwavering commitment to the job.
“And I’m Doctor Ackley,” the man in the white coat added, giving me a faint smile. “I’ll remove those restraints for you.”
As he freed me from the cuffs, the detectives pulled two plastic chairs over to my bedside and sat down, eying me with curiosity.
With a pained grimace, I sat up straight, propping the pillow up behind me. Doctor Ackley handed me a cup of water from a nearby table and took a seat on the other side of the bed.
“We’d like to ask you a few questions, Sienna,” Caswell said, still staring right at me.
I gulped a mouthful of the water and set the cup down. “Okay,” I said in a hollow voice.
“Do you remember coming in here last night?”