Page 132 of Devoted

“Zeke.” The word was a sob. A plea.

I threw myself at him, and he opened his arms just in time to catch me.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, burying his head against my neck as I sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I don’t know how long I clung to him. The way I was sitting on him should’ve been awkward and ungainly, but it wasn’t.

“You were dead,” I said between sobs. “You weredead.”

“I know, baby.” His hand stroked up and down my back, soothing me, reassuring me. “But I’m okay, I promise. I just wish you hadn’t found out like this.”

Found out like this.This was what Zeke had been hinting at. The reason why his father had trained him from a young age. The cagey looks when I’d mentioned them all being professors.

These men weren’t professors.

They weren’t human.

They wereangels.

My OCD, kept quiet by the adrenaline and fear of the past few minutes, was now returning in full force.

‘You’ve lost your mind, Sam. None of this is actually happening.’

The tingling returned to my lips.

‘Angels don’t exist.’

Now it was in my hands too.

‘You’re going to be committed.’

Why was there a band around my chest? Why was it getting tighter?

‘That’s where you’ll spend the rest of your days. No more work. No more Zeke. They probably won’t even let you have Lego in there.’

“Sam?” Zeke’s voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a very long tunnel. “Baby, are you okay?”

I slid off his lap.Floor. I need the floor.

Cool tile met my face, but it wasn’t enough to ground me. I gasped, but it was no use. My lungs wouldn’t fill.

‘You’re dying. That’s why you’ve hallucinated this whole thing.’

Yes. Hallucinations while you were dying were common. I’d read that somewhere.

Heated conversation was happening above me, but I couldn’t focus on it. Zeke’s hand was clenched on the floor, close to mine, but not touching.

I need him. Zeke. I need you.

It took so much effort to move my numb limbs, but I inched my hand forwards. My knuckles grazed his and I whimpered.

His fingers immediately wrapped around mine, and then he was lying beside me, just like Benji had in the kitchen. Was he telling him what to do? Talking him through how to help me through a panic attack?

‘Well it won’t help; it’s not a panic attack. It’s definitely a heart attack.’

Zeke put my hand on his chest, saying something quietly. I couldn’t hear him over the rushing in my ears.

He kept his eyes fixed on mine as he inhaled, long and deep. He held it for a second before releasing it slowly. My brows furrowed. I was sure there was something he wanted me to do, but what?

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