Page 70 of Iced Up Love: Part Two

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“I’m fixing it,” he murmurs. “You don’t need that anymore.”

My head is spinning again.

The room tilting harder.

The pain mixing with something heavier.

Something pulling me under.

He guides me back properly onto the bed, my body no longer fighting him, my limbs too weak, too slow, my strength gone.

The chain shifts at my ankle.

Still there.

Still real.

He lays me flat, still in my underwear, my body trembling, my breathing uneven.

Then I feel it.

The sharp prick.

Another dose.

“No—”

The word barely forms.

“You just need to calm down,” he says softly.

My arm lifts weakly.

Falls.

He picks up his phone.

I see it through the blur.

“This is how they’ll understand,” he says.

I try to speak.

“They—coming—Elijah—Zach—”

The words fall apart, slurred, broken.

He smiles slightly.

Satisfied.

“Good,” he says. “Now they can see.”

Everything fades.

The pain is still there, but distant now.

The necklace is gone.

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