27. Jayne

No matter how I tried, I couldn't fully wake up. I was in this weird in-between place. Not asleep but not awake, either. It was a little like I was trapped in my own body. I could feel the concrete floor and the pole behind me, but I couldn't really feel my body.

If I'd been able to, I was sure by now I'd be all pins and needles from not being able to move. In that regard, being this out of it was a blessing.

I was also, somehow, aware of Jack Jr. It wasn't like I could feel him move, but I could sense his presence. He was out of it, the same as I was, but he was okay. That much I knew without a doubt.

I'd decided to chalk that up to some kind of supernatural, winter elf, mother-child bond thing. Because what else could it be?

Isla expected whatever she'd injected into me to kill me. It hadn't. Yet. Probably, once again, because of my incredible metabolism. Which was clearly working overtime. I wondered, too, if I wasn't getting a boost from Jack Jr.

Had she counted on drugging both of us? Probably not. For that, I was extremely grateful.

The thing was, I knew she'd be back. What other option did she have but to move me once I was dead? She couldn't just leave my body in this warehouse. Eventually, someone would be in here. Workers of some kind. Warehouse guys. Delivery people. Someone.

Hopefully, she'd think I was dead before I actually was and untie me. That's when I planned on making my move.

If I could move by then.

But the drug showed no real signs of wearing off any more than it had. If this was as good as it was going to get, I was in trouble. Even my metabolism couldn't protect me from being shot or strangled or knifed, if Isla decided to end things more quickly.

What could I say? I'd had a lot of time to run the possible scenarios.

All I could do was stay still, which took no effort, and listen with every bit of listening power I had. The moment I heard her coming back, I was going to use my remaining strength to chill myself and drop my body temperature. As much as I could.

My hope was that she'd check my pulse again, feel how cold I was, and think I was dead. It was the only chance I had left. For her to untie me and put me in her vehicle, still untied, then pray I'd come around in the time it took her to drive me wherever she planned on disposing of my body.

Maybe not the best plan I'd ever had, but my options were limited. If only I could get some sugar in me. I was sure the boost would help drive the drug out of my system. But that wasn't going to happen. I knew it.

My mood was shifting. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I could feel a sense of melancholy settling over me. It was tinged with despair and sadness, and it wasn't just pregnancy hormones.

I'd been in some tough spots before, but this one was maybe the worst. How on earth would Sin figure out where Isla had taken me? Would he even know it was her? That in itself was a longshot.

Unshed tears built up under my lids. I could not cry. That would be a huge giveaway that I wasn't dead.

I tried to think happy thoughts, but those only made me realize how much was at stake. Was it possible I might not ever see my sweet, wonderful husband again? And my sweet little Spider baby? And darling Sugar?

Worse was the realization that if I died, so would Jack Jr.

The very thought brought a lump to my throat. If Isla killed us both, I hoped Sin took whatever revenge he felt necessary.

My father would give him sanctuary in the North Pole if need be. I knew that. I didn't want him to be hunted like a fugitive for the rest of his life because of me and Jack Jr.

I'd understand whatever he decided to do. If someone took him away from me, there's no telling how I'd respond. That line of thinking helped me feel less like crying.

I imagined the snowpocalypse I would unleash if our positions were reversed. An ice storm of epic proportions. It would be biblical. Something no one would ever forget. I would turn Isla into a block of ice, then shatter it into a million pieces.

Of course, the big storm was just fantasy. The truth was, I'd never do anything that would hurt a person who didn't deserve it. I guess my revenge would have to be a pretty small storm. Sort of centrally located on the one person responsible.

Not nearly as much fun.

A small noise brought my attention back to reality. I shut down all the pretending to focus. I heard it again.

I frowned. Or would have if I was able. What I'd heard was a squeak. Very much like a mouse but hopefully not like a rat. I could handle a mouse crawling over me. But a rat? That was going to take a lot more fortitude than I had.

The upside was even if it happened, I couldn't respond. I'd freak out internally, but that was it.

I listened again to see if the rodent had gotten any closer. Please don't let it get in my hair.

No more squeaking, but then I did hear something. An engine? A car? Was Isla leaving? I didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

It could all be a setup. Her leaving to see if I'd try something. Were there cameras in this room? Could she be watching me? I opened my eyes, but without being able to move my head, all I could see was one corner where the walls met the ceiling. No camera there.

Hey. I'd opened my eyes. That had to mean the drug was wearing off, right? A little burst of joy swept through me. Finally .

What did it matter if she was watching? If I waited a bit, then tried something, I might be able to get free before she returned.

Trouble was, I still couldn't move.

I decided to count out ten minutes, then give it my best attempt. I counted one followed by sixty Mississippis, then two followed by another sixty Mississippis and so on until I reached ten.

Not scientific but better than nothing.

I took as much of a deep breath as I could, squeezed my eyes shut, and focused my entire being on freezing the rope so I could break it. Maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I swore I could feel cold at my wrists.

I kept pushing power into the rope until I was exhausted. Then, with pretty much nothing left, I tried to jerk my hands apart so the rope would break.

Nothing happened. Whatever I'd done, it hadn't been enough.

I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. It was a while before the sound of the engine returned.

Isla was back. I didn't feel any stronger. The drug was still thick in my system.

For all I knew, my time had run out.