Dr. NoSleep

Another part of me wanted to embrace it.

These two facets warred as I took in the rest of the room.

Irma lay on the left side of the bed with one arm over her breasts and the other over her crotch.

She stared up at the ceiling, breathing in fast, shallow gasps.

On the floor to the left of the bed were the two other renters, Quentin and Emery.

Quinton, an 18-year-old black kid who worked at the restaurant with the others, was dressed only in boxers.

Emery, a slightly older Hispanic guy, wore baggy shorts and a white T-shirt.

Both were on their stomachs, hands clasped behind their heads.

Neither looked injured.

A fourth intruder stood over them with a baseball bat.

The short but muscular black man was no older than the two he guarded.

It seemed Salazar was the oldest of the group, the leader.

He yanked the bat from around my neck and shoved me to my knees at the foot of the bed.

Stay right fucking there.

Don't move.

Tony, come watch him.

If he moves, bash his skull in.

Salazar moved away as Tony took his place behind me.

Bring the bitch over here, Salazar said, moving over to Irma's side of the bed.

Robby brought Delia over.