Chapter Sixteen
The morning light crept further into the bedroom, painting the dark wood furniture in soft shades of gold and gray. For a long time, neither of us moved. My heart kept up its frantic, fluttering pace against my ribs, but the sheer warmth of Jake’s body next to mine began to quiet the lingering panic in my chest.
He lay beside me, his large hand still resting on my cheek, his thumb slowly tracing my cheekbone. It felt surreal to be this close to him—to the man who, just twelve hours ago, had roared into a garage like an angry god to rip me out of the hands of my executioners.
"You should eat," Jake said, his deep, morning-rough voice breaking the silence. "I'll have Sarah bring up some food."
"Is it safe for her to come up here?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper as I l
