“I don’t think so.”
She yawned, but kept her eyes closed, still drifting. “I bet the French eat them for breakfast.”
“Well, you’re not in France. And I think they eat croissants, not donuts.”
“Betsy would eat croissants. Betsy likes croissants.”
“Does Betsy always speak about herself in the third person when she’s sleepy?”
“Betsy does not know. Betsy wants to sleep.”
“I know you do, brown eyes, but I need to get you clean, check you over and feed you.”
“No.”
“Betsy.” It was a warning to obey. But she didn’t want to. She was feeling stubborn. She was tired. Her whole body ached. Her skin felt like it had been scraped raw.
Urgh. Maybe the voice was right and she should get up.
“I gots to pee.”
“We can do that as well.” The voice was amused.
She stiffened. Had she just said that out loud? Her eyes opened, her breath coming in pants as adrenaline rushed through her.
Where was she? What was going on?
She sat up, groaning as the room spun and her body protested.
“Fuck! Move slowly, brown eyes.”
She blinked, bringing the man crouched in front of her into focus. “Ink? What…” She looked around the room, but she didn’t recognize it. She was lying on a bed. The white comforter was super soft. It was also now covered in dirt and leaves from her filthy clothing. The rest of the room was pretty plain. There was a television attached to the wall at the end of the bed. A small couch in front of it and a door to the right of the TV. Another door was on the wall behind Ink. A desk and chair made up the last of the furniture. No pictures, no paintings. Nothing personal.
“Is this your bedroom?” she squeaked.
He smiled. “No, brown eyes. This is the safe room at Callahan Security.”
What? How? “Why do you have a safe room? How did I get here? Why am I so dirty? Why do I feel so sore and tired?”
“You don’t remember?” He looked at her in concern. “Did you hit your head? I checked you over quickly and couldn’t feel any bumps but the doctor is on his way.”
“Doctor? Why would I need a doctor? I can’t remember…” she lifted a shaky hand up, noticing the small scratches on her arm. How had she gotten those?
A memory flashed at her. Running. Trees. Dogs barking.
Forrest’s office. Thing One. Fear.
“Oh God,” she groaned. Without warning, she threw herself at Ink. He fell back onto the floor with an oomph.
She hugged him tight. Sobs worked their way through her chest. “I thought I was gonna die. I didn’t think I’d see you again. I thought they’d find me. Oh God. You found me!”
“Shh, brown eyes. Shh. It’s all right. You’re safe.”
She buried her face into his chest. “I got caught leaving Forrest’s office. One of his guards came up to me before I could relock the door. I hit him over the head with a candlestick then dragged him into the office. I locked him in but I knew I had to run. I didn’t know when someone would find him or if he’d wake up. So I took off. I had to climb a tree to get over the fence. I could hear the dogs coming for me. I thought they were going to find me. The last…the last thing I remember is climbing through a ditch.”
“Shh, you’re safe now.” He ran his hand up and down her back. “You’re safe, brown eyes. I’m here.”
“I thought I’d never see you again.”