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up, as she carefully peeled her eyes open. Bright light blinded her heavy eyes for a moment, and she pulled her shaking hand up to block out the brightness from her sight. In an attempt at finding her voice, she croaked, in a small whisper, “Yes. I’m a-awake.”
In an instant, Leah was by her side, pulling her small, fragile hand in hers. She was teary eyed, sniffling ever so often, and her face was scrunched up with concern. “Oh baby,” she breathed, clasping Skye’s hand tightly in both of hers, “we’ve been so worried about you. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”
Skye’s head was spinning, trying to grapple with a clear thought, so disorganized, so confused

it was as if she’d woken up on a strange, foreign island, and she couldn’t place what had happened to bring her there. She tried to remember what had happened and why she was in the hospital, but part of her subconscious was blocking the information. “W-What happened?”
Leah’s eyes crystallized with tears, and she muffled a sob with her hand. “J-Johnny took you, baby. He lured you to our cabin in the woods by holding Rachel captive until you showed up.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand. “You’re here because we found you in the woods in terrible shape. He hurt you very badly, Skye. He almost took your life. Don’t you remember anything?”
And in an instant, all at once, everything—all of the haunting memories and images—returned to her, bombarding her soul and tearing her apart again. She squeezed her eyes shut, bitter sobs shaking her body, and fought against the horrifying flashes of all the agony she’d gone through. She remembered Johnny, and all of the sick scheming he’d used to lure her in his clutches; she remembered Rachel, and how battered she’d looked when Skye had last seen her; she remembered the cabin, and the brutal pain she’d felt as Johnny had used her body for his own sick pleasure; and then she remember Jules, and how—just moments before she’d passed out—she’d thought he was going to die, all because of her.
Her eyes snapped open again, searching the room for Jules’s familiar face. She’d felt his presence, and she could have sworn she’d heard his voice, so that meant he had to be in the room with her now, alive

.
When her eyes finally landed on what she was looking for, her entire body relaxed. Jules, he’s alive

, she told herself, flooded with relief. He miraculously survived

. Despite all of the overwhelming misery that clung to her conscience still as she continued to remember all the horrible trauma and suffering she’d had to go through, she felt better knowing that Jules was okay. He was alive. And she hadn’t lost him.
“I remember,” she whispered, watching Jules intently as he stepped out of the shadows in the room. “I remember everything.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I wish we could have stopped that wretched man before he’d hurt you.” Leah’s voice broke, and she cleared her throat. “We should have been more careful.”
Skye shook her head, numbly taking in her mother’s words. With a shaking hand she reached out and brushed a tear off Leah’s cheek. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who walked into his trap. I should have gotten help. I was just so scared. I thought he’d kill Rachel.”
“It wasn’t your fault either, Skye. You did nothing wrong.” This time it was Jules who had spoken, his low, tender voice startling Skye. “The only person at fault here was Johnny. He—and only

he—was responsible. No one else.”
Skye’s heart raced when she looked at Jules again. He was closer now, only mere inches away from her, and she could feel his breath on her face like a warm reminder of just how real and good he was. “What happened to you?” she asked him, letting go of Leah’s hand. “I—I thought Johnny had . . .” Her voice caught in the back of her throat.
“The Sheriff got to him first. I thought Johnny was going to be the end of me, but when the Sheriff shot him in the shoulder, I took the opportunity to revive myself and pushed him off of me.” He shuddered. “He got my leg with his knife though, before one of the officers on the scene took him out for me.”
Skye’s heart stopped.
“Took him out for you?” she repeated, dumbfounded. “You mean . . . ?”
“Johnny’s dead, Skye.” Leah’s voice was small but carried a heavy amount of disdain. “Officer Welch fired the fatal shot.”
She turned her attention back on Leah, astonished with the promises of the words she’d last spoken. Her heart began hammering in her rib cage, so hard she thought it might burst, and little butterflies fluttered in her stomach. The thought of Johnny . . . dead, gone, out of her life for good, was almost too much to handle. She wanted desperately for it to be true.
“He’s not going to hurt me again.” She meant for the words to come out as a question, but they were too final, too . . . real

to be questioned. “He’s really gone.”
“Yes, Skye,” Leah said, sniffling. “He’s gone, and he can never hurt you again.”
“What about Rachel?” She swallowed the urge to cry, suddenly filled with so much relief, so much hope

, all of her previous fears and discomforts fell into the back of her mind. “How is she?”
Leah wiped at her teary eyes, and smiled a thin, timid smile. “She’s doing all right. Joe says she should be out in a couple days, and that—apart from the scars she’ll always carry inside—her wounds shouldn’t scar too badly. She was very fortunate Johnny didn’t do anything worse.”
“But how is she . . . coping?” Skye swallowed hard, clearing a lump in her throat. “Have you talked to her?”
“No, I haven’t.” Leah rubbed her hand over her face, and for the first time since she’d began speaking with her mother, Skye noticed how tired and run down she looked. Her eyes were not only red and puffy from crying, but there were also dark circles under them, and her entire appearance resembled that of someone who hadn’t slept in days. When she spoke again, Skye could hear her exhaustion in her weak, straggled voice. “I did talk to her father, though, and he said that she hasn’t been speaking to him a whole lot. She spoke to Officer Brandon and the Sheriff for a little while, along with Joe, but other than that she’s seemed to prefer the silence.”
Skye’s heart ached to comfort her friend, to hug her and tell her everything would be okay, but she knew it wasn’t an option. For the time being, she knew she had to stay where she was and rest, allowing herself time to heal. And as much as she hated being stuck in a hospital bed, hooked up to numerous noisy machines, with bandages all over her beaten body, she knew it would all help her in the end.
“I wish I could be there for her,” she sighed, thumbing over the bandage across her wrist. “Maybe I could help.”
“I know, baby,” Leah said, “I know. But you’ve got to get your rest. You’ve been through a lot over the last twenty-four hours, and the best thing you can do for yourself now is rest.”
“You should get some rest too, Mom.” Skye settled back into the hospital bed, sighing. “You look exhausted. And I’m sure you could use some proper sleep. It’s perfectly okay if you go home—I’ll be in good hands.”
Jules chirped in then, and Skye startled, having almost forgotten that he was sitting right next to her. “She’s right, Mrs. Montgomery—you could use rest yourself. You’ve been up for hours with her already, and you’ve got to do what’s in the baby’s best interest, too. Like Skye said, she’s in good hands here. You have nothing to worry about.”
Skye turned to look at him, mouthing a quick “thank you”, before turning around, clutching Leah’s hand in hers, and adding, “Please, Mom? I’ll be okay. Just go home and get some rest.”
With a heavy sigh Leah nodded her head. “All right.” She stood up slowly and kissed Skye on the forehead, smiling down at her daughter. “I’ll go. I’ll get some rest for now. But I’ll be back later. ”
“That’s all we’re requesting,” Jules said, standing up. “Let me walk you out to your car.”
Skye frowned at his proposal, reaching her hand out and grabbing the fabric of his T-shirt. “Wait!” she croaked. “Please stay. Please stay with me, Jules.”
He glanced down at her, gaze warm and inviting. “You want me to stay?”
She nodded. “I do.”
A smile crawled up the corners of his lips as he turned towards Leah. “Rain check?”
Leah giggled, waving him off. “Don’t worry about it, Julian. Skye could use your company more than I. But thank you for the offer.”
He grinned. “Anytime.”
Warmth wrapped Skye in its satisfying clutches as she watched Jules return to his seat next to her. He pulled her hand in his and gently laced their fingers together, before placing a soft kiss on her hand. She shivered at the brush of his lips on her skin, and tried to relax herself again before unwanted images of Johnny could enter her mind. She told herself that it was only Jules and he wouldn’t hurt her.
When she took a deep, cleansing breath, she felt her insides flutter with a pure balance of tranquility. Jules loved her. Deeply. And he was there, watching over her, wanting nothing more than to comfort her.
She really was in good

hands.
“How’re you feeling, Trouble?” Jules asked, and immediately Skye was snatched away from her thoughts and gathered back into the present. “Better now that I’m here?” He was suddenly grinning ear to ear.
Her stomach flipped nervously. “Yes,” she whispered. “Much better.”
He laughed, but the sound was quiet and short-lived. His grin vanished, replaced by a quivering frown. When she looked into his eyes all she could see was this distant twinkle of longing, outlined by pain, and it tugged at her heartstrings. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Trouble. I was so worried I was going to lose you.” His eyes bore right into her soul, and she could feel tears sting in the back of her eyelids. He crumbled then, burying his face in their entwined hands. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Skye! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The urgency and pain in his voice struck her in the heart, and she felt an aggressive pull to cuddle into him and tell him she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Not this time. Not like that. Never again.
Wincing slightly at the pain that spliced her stomach when she moved too suddenly, she leaned towards him, captured his face in her weak hands, and pulled him closer to her, pressing their foreheads together. “I won’t, Jules. I promise.” She whimpered, wanting so badly to kiss him, but too afraid

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