“Just sleep, Duckling,” he murmured in that low, comforting voice. “I’ve got you.” I believed him, sagging into his embrace and letting my heavy lids slide closed once more. Sleep would help to clear the drugs, surely. Nate wouldn’t let anything bad happen while I slept—of that I was confident. “I’m sorry, Layne baby.” His whispered apology roused me some time later. “I’m not being a pervert, I swear, but I want to get you out of these hospital clothes.”
