She realized she’d feel more comfortable with Burke on the floor, realized she was grateful he’d made the suggestion. Crossed to the bed and nudged the dog aside a little bit.

“There’s your pillow,” she said, chucking him one. “I think we can probably spare you a blanket as well.”

*  *  *

Mason woke up, sat up, his heart beating sixteenth notes. Something had roused him, but he couldn’t say what.

On the bed above him, Lucy shifted. Whimpered a little bit. Jess had the shotgun up there, lying in its soft case beside her pillow. Mason wondered if she was awake too.

He pushed himself to his feet, pushed the blanket off. Stood and walked to the window and pulled the shade to the side and looked out into the parking lot.

It was late. Or early. It was four thirty in the morning. By rights, Mason should have been awake, wide awake, given the time difference with back home, and how prison had made him an early riser. He was beat, though, exhausted. He wanted to sleep. He needed some time before the deputies found them, before the next round began. He looked out into the parking lot, searched the shadows for Kirby Harwood’s fancy truck, for either of the Whitmer boys, for Cole Sweeney.

But the lot was empty. Nothing moved. Mason gave it a minute, waited it out. Still nothing.

Then Jess cried out behind him, and Mason spun, half expecting to see Bryce Whitmer on the bed with her, choking her out. But Jess was alone, tangled in her blanket, arms flailing and legs twisted, Lucy tucked in close to her, licking at Jess’s face and whimpering too.

A bad dream.

Mason crossed to the bed. Sat down beside Jess and touched her arm. “Hey.”

It took a couple of tries, but he woke her, and she quit moving and opened her eyes, stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavy.

“Guess you were having a nightmare,” Mason said.

Jess didn’t react. Just looked up, straight up, like she hadn’t really come back from wherever she’d gone. Gradually her breathing settled. She rubbed her eyes.

“I’m okay, Burke,” she said. “Nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep.”

He stood. “Yeah, okay.”

“Burke?”

He looked back.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Yeah.” He lay down again, settled into his blanket. Laid his head on his pillow, and then he felt movement beside him. Stiffened, just in time to feel Lucy’s big, slobbery tongue curl over his face. She gave him a solid face wash, and he endured it, finally pushing her away when he couldn’t hold his breath any longer.

“Yeah, I missed you, too, girl,” he said. “I missed you a lot.”

She turned around in a circle, made to settle down beside him. He stopped her. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he said. “You sleep with your mom tonight, okay?”