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sure yet. We need to observe you for a few more hours.”
    He slipped his penlight into his pocket. “Until then, young lady, you need to get some rest.”
    “Wait.” I wanted to ask if hallucinations were a side effect or if people lost their minds after being hit by a car and telling really stupid lies at school. But the moment the word wait left my lips, Santiago’s back straightened. His eyes narrowed and drilled into me from across the room, spiking my brain with instant fear.
    “Yes?” the doctor asked.
    “I…I…” I’m afraid for my life. Somebody please help me. “I’m hungry. Can I eat something?”
    The doctor gave me a funny look. “I’ll ask one of the nurses to bring you lunch.”
    “Thanks,” I eked out.
    Santiago quietly watched as the doctor exited the room. “You heard him. Get some rest.” He walked over, and I instinctively wanted to run.
    “Don’t even think about it,” he growled.
    Could he read my thoughts? Or was he simply reacting to the terror in my eyes?
    He pushed the adjuster on the side of the bed until I was completely horizontal. “Rest,” he commanded in a deep voice that sent little pinpricks rushing through my body. I actually was sleepy, like I just might die if I didn’t close my eyes.
    Maybe just for a moment…
    After all, the man was not about to let me leave, and I needed to gather my wits.
    When I reopened my eyes, it was dark outside. How long had I slept?
    I quickly surveyed the room, hoping my jailer might be gone, but no such luck. He sat in a chair next to the door, eyes closed, arms crossed, head resting back against the peach-colored wall.
    I studied him carefully, looking for any signs of what or who he truly was.
    A ghost?
    But he was a solid mass.
    A dream?
    Nothing indicated I was still asleep. I saw only a man. Real, breathing, beautiful to a fault—thick lashes fanning out from his eyes, dark straight brows, a masculine jaw, and a chin with a tiny dimple. And his size, well, he certainly was no teenager. He looked to be about twenty. Perhaps as old as twenty-two. And with his lean muscular frame, he looked like he worked out. A lot.
    Ghosts don’t need to work out.
    See. That was the part that didn’t make sense. I’d made him up. I mean, yes, the photo had to come from somewhere, so the man physically existed in the world. But he was a random stranger I’d never met. So why was he sitting in my room, guarding me, and acting like he just might rip off my head if I so much as breathed the wrong way?
    Lord, the more I thought about it, the weirder and scarier the situation felt.
    “Good, you’re awake.”
    I jumped and held my hand over my heart.
    “Your mother came by earlier. She said you’ve been released.” He rose from the chair and walked over to the hook on the wall that held my purse and the clear bag that contained only my panties and bra. I hoped he didn’t notice or look at them.
    “She did? Why didn’t she wake me up?” I needed to talk to her. I needed to hear that this was all just some horrible joke.
    “She wanted you to rest. She asked me to take you home when you woke up.”
    Home. He was coming home with me? “I want to see her,” I stated quietly, trying not to provoke him.
    “She’s finishing her shift. You’ll see her later tonight.”
    To heck with provoking.. . Survive . “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
    He handed me my purse and flashed a wicked little smile. “Why not?”
    Why not? Why not? Oh my. Let’s make a list. Shall we? You’re scary. And imaginary. And you’re scary. I said that already. “Because I have no idea who you are.”
    He leaned over me, placing his cheek next to mine. “Then let me fill you in,” he whispered in my ear. “I’m your boyfriend, and you love me. So don’t cause any problems, Dakota.”
    Adrenaline pumped through my muscles, urging me to run. “And if I do?”
    He ran his finger along my jaw, his rough stubble scraping against my cheek. “Do you really