The Host (The Host #1)(77)

The sound of the doctor’s soft snoring was comforting; even if it was put on to calm me, at least I knew exactly where he was in the darkness.

Live or die, I figured I might as well go ahead and sleep. I was dog tired, as Melanie would say. I let my eyes close. The mattress was softer than anything I’d touched since coming here. I relaxed, sinking in…

There was a low shuffling sound—it was inside the room with me. My eyes popped open, and I could see a shadow between the moonlit ceiling and me. Outside, the doctor’s snores continued uninterrupted.

CHAPTER 23

Confessed

The shadow was huge and misshapen. It loomed over me, top-heavy, swinging closer to my face.

I think I meant to scream, but the sound got trapped in my throat, and all that came out was a breathless squeak.

“Shh, it’s just me,” Jamie whispered. Something bulky and roundish rolled from his shoulders and plopped softly to the floor. When it was gone I could see his true, lithe shadow against the moonlight.

I caught a few gasps of air, my hand clutching at my throat.

“Sorry,” he whispered, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. “I guess that was pretty stupid. I was trying not to wake Doc—I didn’t even think how I would scare you. You okay?” He patted my ankle, which was the part of me closest to him.

“Sure,” I huffed, still breathless.

“Sorry,” he muttered again.

“What are you doing here, Jamie? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“That’s why I’m here. Uncle Jeb was snoring like you wouldn’t believe. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

His answer didn’t make sense to me. “Don’t you usually sleep with Jeb?”

Jamie yawned and bent to untie the bulky bedroll he’d dropped to the floor. “No, I usually sleep with Jared. He doesn’t snore. But you know that.”

I did.

“Why don’t you sleep in Jared’s room, then? Are you afraid to sleep alone?” I wouldn’t have blamed him for that. It seemed like I was constantly terrified here.

“Afraid,” he grumbled, offended. “No. This is Jared’s room. And mine.”

“What?” I gasped. “Jeb put me in Jared’s room?”

I couldn’t believe it. Jared would kill me. No, he would kill Jeb first, and then he would kill me.

“It’s my room, too. And I told Jeb you could have it.”

“Jared will be furious,” I whispered.

“I can do what I want with my room,” Jamie muttered rebelliously, but then he bit his lip. “We won’t tell him. He doesn’t have to know.”

I nodded. “Good idea.”

“You don’t mind if I sleep in here, do you? Uncle Jeb’s really loud.”

“No, I don’t mind. But Jamie, I don’t think you should.”

He frowned, trying to be tough instead of hurt. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not safe. Sometimes people come looking for me at night.”

His eyes went wide. “They do?”

“Jared always had the gun—they went away.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know—Kyle sometimes. But there are surely others who are still here.”

He nodded. “All the more reason why I should stay. Doc might need help.”

“Jamie —”

“I’m not a kid, Wanda. I can take care of myself.”

Obviously, arguing was only going to make him more stubborn. “At least take the bed,” I said, surrendering. “I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s your room.”

“That’s not right. You’re the guest.”

I snorted quietly. “Ha. No, the bed is yours.”

“No way.” He lay down on the mat, folding his arms tightly across his chest.

Again, I saw that arguing was the wrong approach to take with Jamie. Well, this one I could rectify as soon as he was asleep. Jamie slept so deeply it was almost a coma. Melanie could carry him anywhere once he was out.

“You can use my pillow,” he told me, patting the one next to the side where he lay. “You don’t need to scrunch up at the bottom there.”

I sighed but crawled to the top of the bed.

“That’s right,” he said approvingly. “Now, could you throw me Jared’s?”

I hesitated, about to reach for the pillow under my head; he jumped up, leaned over me, and snatched the other pillow. I sighed again.

We lay in silence for a while, listening to the low whistle of the doctor’s breathing.

“Doc has a nice snore, doesn’t he?” Jamie whispered.

“It won’t keep you up,” I agreed.

“You tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

I waited for him to say something more, but he was quiet.

“Was there something you wanted?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away, but I could feel him struggling, so I waited.

“If I asked you something, would you tell me the truth?”

It was my turn to hesitate. “I don’t know everything,” I hedged.

“You would know this. When we were walking… me and Jeb… he was telling me some things. Things he thought, but I don’t know if he’s right.”