Paige had heard stories about mothers lifting trucks off their babies and never quite understood that kind of adrenaline rush until that day. Somehow, when Craig collapsed, she managed to keep her head. She quickly pulled off her sweater and balled it up under his head. Then she took an apron hanging on the back of the door and pressed it against the wound recalling from movies that applying pressure should slow the bleeding.

Still the amount of blood on his shirt terrified her. She couldn't stop replaying the scene over and over in her head. The man grabbing her…Craig stepping to her defense…then the sound of a gun shot. She still couldn't believe that Craig had done that. And now he could be…no she wouldn't think of that.

Paige glanced around the room. The red light was on and it gave everything an eerie glow. She got up and quickly flicked on the regular lights then went to the door. She tried break it down for several minutes but only got a sore shoulder for her troubles. Just when she was starting to despair, she heard a soft moan. She quickly knelt by Craig.

"Craig?"

His eyes fluttered open. "What's going on?"

"Um, well, you're shot," she said bluntly.

He closed his eyes. "Oh yeah. That's why I wish I didn't have a shoulder right now." He winced as he tried to sit up. "Where's that guy?"

"Gone, I think," Paige said. She glanced at the door and shivered a little thinking of what he had been about to do. "But we're locked in here."

"Oh. We'll that's peachy."

Paige noticed Craig's eyes start to droop. "Hey, stay awake," she said quickly. His eyes opened again. "Don't you dare die on me," she said, "I'll kick your ass."

Craig chuckled at that. "I'm trying." His gaze seemed to go in and out of focus as he looked at Paige. "So what's going on with you and Paul?"

Paige was taken aback by the question. "Well that was out of the blue?"

"Just trying to make conversation. Looks like we're gonna be in here for a while."

Paige shrugged as she adjusted the blood-soaked apron on his shoulder. "I don't know. He just asked me out so I figured I might as well give it a shot. Who knows what'll happen?"

Craig nodded slowly. "He's a good guy. Not so sure about his taste in women though…"

Paige rolled her eyes. "I happen to think he's got wonderful taste."

"You would," Craig retorted. Then he winced. "I think you're putting a little too much pressure there, Paige."

She hadn't realized how hard she had been pressing on his shoulder. "Sorry. You pissed me off."

"Just returning the favor."

"Jeez you have to be nasty to me even in situations like this one?" Paige asked. She took the apron away from his shoulder then grabbed another one.

"Yes." His expression grew serious. "What are we going to do? Cuz things aren't looking great right now. We're trapped in here by some crazy dude and I'm screwed…"

"You're not screwed. You're going to be fine." Paige cleared her throat and pretended to be deeply involved in checking his wound. "Um, by the way, thanks, for that. You know, stopping him and stuff."

"Yeah it worked out real well for me."

"No I mean it. That was really brave. Not a lot of guys would have done that. I certainly wouldn't have expected you to do that." Paige glanced at his face and saw that it had taken on a dreamy dazed look.

"Are your eyes always blue like that?" he asked.

"Um, they're hazel so they kinda change," Paige replied, worried. "Craig, I think you're getting a little delirious…"

"My mom's eyes were blue, just that exact color," Craig continued, staring at her. "Do you think I'll see her?"

"Craig…" Paige bit her lip. His face had grown rather pale.

"You remind me a little of my mom, in a way. I mean, looks-wise. If you had brown hair, then you'd look just like her. She was beautiful."

Paige wasn't sure what to do but figured that keeping him talking was probably best. "Um, what was she like?"

Craig smiled slightly. "She was funny. And really smart. She could carry on a conversation about anything. She liked to sing even though she wasn't great at it. I think that's where I got my love of music." His gaze hardened suddenly. "Definitely not from my dad. He always yelled at me when I played guitar in the house and when I once told him that I wanted to be just like Jimi Hendrix—"

"Craig we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," Paige interjected quickly, sensing that he wouldn't normally be telling her about this if he wasn't delirious.

"No, it's cool." He sighed. "What's it like to have a real family?"

Paige felt her stomach drop. "Craig, you have a family."

He laughed harshly. "Both my parents are dead. Joey's place never felt like home even with Angela there. Some family. Not like yours."

"My family isn't exactly perfect," she told him. "There's no such thing as a problem-free family. We've had our fair share."

"Like what?"

Paige played with the tie on her pants. "Well my brother for starters. My parents bugged out when he came out and he lived with his friend for a while before they finally let him come back home."

"How did they deal when you were raped?"

Paige's heart leaped into her throat. "When I was what?!"