Page 51 of The Devil Takes

Two.

The more time I lost, the more frightened I became of what could happen to me when I got like that. My apathy shifted into fear every time I woke up, unaware of what day it was, or where I was. That was when I knew there was something fundamentally wrong with me. That I should ask for help. If anyone else had been in the same situation I was in, that would’ve been what I recommended. But…I was just too fucking tired to care.

Eventually, when the weakness grew to be too much, my guard lowered, my body too sick to expend energy on anything other than hiding my illness—I took to sleeping in the greenhouse. It was warm there. Safe too. There was this steady beep, beep that buzzed any time the door to the building was opened, so I knew I’d have some warning if anyone tried to disturb me.

No one noticed, thank god, even though I knew Mr. and Mrs. Becker suspected when they’d catch me with dirt in my hair, shoving blankets into the cupboard at the back of the break room. They didn’t say anything, though.

I’d been spending a lot of time there since summer, more than usual, searching for happiness between the leaves of plants, stroking along petals and looking for peace. At night I lay on my back, my head cradled on a bag of soft soil, a blanket tucked around my body as I breathed in the soothing scent of earth and wondered why things couldn’t be different. The stars were as foggy as my thoughts.

I’d been running for so long from myself I didn’t know what to do now that I’d had a taste of what I could be.

Potential was bittersweet.

That night I got to the greenhouse later than usual. It had been hard to slip out of the frat house unnoticed, but I’d managed. I was only supposed to rest here for a few hours. The morning shift would be out wandering the aisles in a few short hours and I needed to be packed up and ready to act normal by then. But everything felt murky around the edges, the world faded and twisted. Even lifting my head felt like too much effort.

I could taste Haden on my tongue and I chased it, following the darkness inside me, searching for the glimmer of light that had tethered me to him for so long.

It’s not safe. That’s what he’d said.

But like always, he’d been a cryptic son-of-a-bitch, so he hadn’t told me what wasn’t safe.

Maybe he thought I was too stupid to understand, like everyone else did. But…I knew that wasn’t it. Haden wasn’t hateful. I didn’t need to see his face to know that. He had a kind sort of confidence, though his kindness was tentative. Like it was a muscle he wasn’t used to flexing. I could relate. I hoped he was okay, wherever he was.

It felt weird to worry about someone other than me. Maybe I was a selfish son-of-a-bitch myself. Before I’d met him, all I’d ever been concerned with was my own survival. I wasn’t afraid to fight tooth and nail for it, unconcerned with who I left behind.

My head was so heavy.

Haden’s jacket was a familiar weight on my chest.

I knew I should get up.

Survival dictated I open my eyes.

But I just…couldn’t. The last bits of my strength leached into the chilled concrete floor. Somewhere out there was my alpha. And he was just as alone as I was. Maybe even more so. He’d pushed me away. Cast me aside. But he hadn’t been cruel, just…sad.

Like I was now.

“Dude, are you okay?” There was someone shaking me, but struggling toward the surface was more difficult than anything I’d ever done. Waterlogged from the inside out, I forced a ragged breath. Where was I again?

Humid. Warm. Soil.

Right.

The scents were flickering inside my nose, stronger than they’d ever been before. Overwhelming. I managed to get my eyes open, searching the room for the stranger whose scent made the inside of my nose burn. She kept shaking me, whoever she was. Her nails dug in, a bit of desperation creeping into her tone. “Dude—”

Right.

I needed to answer.

The world was a blur of colors. The woman who was shaking me had her red hair twisted back, little tendrils falling in her face. Distantly, I recognized her as the new part-timer we’d hired last month. I wasn’t sure I’d said more than five words to her since she’d started working at the greenhouse.

“I’m okay.” I blinked. The words came out all warped and wrong. I chased her scent, but it was wrong too. Too strong. Too sharp. Too—everything.

“You don’t look okay,” she fretted, though thankfully she stopped shaking me. “Shit.” She twisted her hands together, lips pressed into a thin line. She was cute. An omega like me. But there was nothing wrong with her, like there was with me. “I’ve got a car out back—I’ll tell Chenise I’m taking you to the clinic.”

Ah. I’d forgotten that was Mrs. Becker’s first name. Then her words hit—

The clinic.