Slivering his eyes open again and wincing in the light, Dante looked down at himself. Panic pulsed through him, amped his heartbeat. Not only was he wearing blue scrubs and paper slippers, but draped across the foot of the mattress, a straitjacket waited, buckles glinting, back open, an open invitation for his arms.
Dante’s mouth dried.
Forcing his gaze away from the straitjacket, he struggled up into a sitting position. Black specks poked holes in his vision. Dizziness spun him around like a child on a merry-go-round. “Fuck.”
Dante lifted his head, shaking his hair back from his face, then froze. His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
A little girl with long red hair and blue eyes watched him through a window, her freckled face worried. She wore the purple Winnie-the-Pooh sweater he’d given her. Dante-angel, she mouthed through the window. She pressed her palms flat against the glass.
The past slipped around Dante like a straitjacket and strapped him in tight.
Just you and me, princess. Forever and ever . . .
The intercom speakers crackled, then a man’s voice said, “Welcome back, S. We’ve missed you.”
Adrian Phoenix, Etched in Bone (Maker's Song #4)
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends