Free Blood and Bone by Tara Brown Page A

am. He’s a doctor. He’s a psychopath? That one doesn’t feel so real. The people who want me to bring him in suspect he’s murdered dozens of people using freakishly devious ways to kill them. He’s a master at making it look like an accident. That I could actually see—he’s intelligent in a way that awes me regularly.
    And then there’s the fact he’s in love with me.
    But according to them, not me the way I was, me the way I am now. He likes me broken and needy. He made me needy on purpose. He made me soft and took away everything I was. I don’t know how to feel about that, if it’s true.
    And even if it is, it’s not like he took much away in reality. Looking back at the file I realize I wasn’t much better off. I was stronger, more independent, and braver. But I was alone, working all the time. I was single. In every one of those pictures I looked sad or hard. I don’t recognize that girl. She’s sad and distant, and I don’t feel that way anymore. So maybe he saved me from myself?
    In all honesty I feel like I will wake any second and it will all be a bad dream caused by watching late-night TV again.
    I feel sick that Derek has lied to me, but I see why, in a sick and twisted sort of way. I was lying first. I am still lying; we just didn’t know it.
    I ride the bus home with my last couple of dollars. I’m cold and hungry and exhausted. I can’t kid myself—the moment I see the house, I’m elated. I know he’s in there, cooking or waiting for me. I know he’s worried and misses me. And I miss him. I miss who we were yesterday.
    I don’t even make the driveway and I see the handle on the door turning. Quickly, I slip my hand into my pocket, pulling out themagnet, and as I walk past the car I attach it to the back of it, just on the metal at the trunk. It doesn’t look like anything but a tiny magnet, so it blends. I don’t want to do it, but I think I need to. I need him to be innocent, and I need to prove he is. They’re wrong, and I have to show them.
    When he opens the door, Derek’s face is pinched and his dark greenish-gray eyes are mostly gray. He looks cold and hard. “You okay?”
    I shake my head, pausing on the cement. The light from inside shines behind him, taunting me with its warmth. I only have to sell my soul to the devil to go inside and be warm again.
    He opens his arms for me. “You scared me.”
    I walk to him. Those arms are beacons of warmth and love. The only thing we’ve lost so far is the trust, but I think we might be able to get it back if I can prove he’s innocent.
    When I melt into them I feel different. I melt all the way without him forcing me. I pause, wondering if he feels it—the difference in me.
    But he kisses the top of my head, smelling me. He hovers there, taking gulps of me like he has been starved all day of the life force I give off.
    “I missed you all day. I was terrified. I thought I scared you away with the truth.” He pulls me back. “Sam, I don’t want to ruin what we have. You’re my everything.”
    I shake my head. “Jane. Don’t call me Sam.”
    He smiles, making everything okay. He blankets us in that smile and the love inside it, and I don’t believe a single thing I read. I believe whatever he wants me to. He’s perfect, and they’re wrong. And when he leads me inside, kissing my cheeks and closing the door on us, I feel like he’s closed the door on everything else. He’s brought us into our safe haven and made us protected again.
    I don’t care about anything but that.
    He drags my clothes off there at the door, stripping me naked, and scoops me up into his arms. He carries me to the bathroom and undresses himself, pulling us both into the shower. He protects me from the cold water until it’s warm and then steps aside so I am blasted with heat. He wraps himself around me, letting the hot water wash it all away.
    I close my eyes and breathe him in too, the same way he does me. I get it now—the dose he gets when he