JESSICA'S POV
My eyes snapped open.
Darkness. A low ceiling with exposed pipes running across it. The air was cold and stale, smelling like damp concrete and old oil. A warehouse. My head throbbed with a dull, steady ache from whatever chemical had been on that cloth. Where am I? Who took me?
Panic rose up sharp and bitter in my throat. I opened my mouth to scream, to shout for help, but I forced it down. Wait. Listen first. The instinct was new, something raw and animal inside me.
Shadows moved at the edge of the room. Tall, broad shapes. I could hear the quiet scrape of boots on concrete, low voices murmuring. My heart pounded against my ribs so hard it hurt. They're out there. Watching me.
I was lying on a thin, stained mattress on the floor. My hands weren't tied. I slowly pushed
