Page 55 of Devoted

is something wrong?

are you mad at me?

has something happened?

are you hurt?

I’m sorry. I’m letting my brain get the better of me. You don’t have to respond, I’m sure you’re just busy.

you don’t owe me anything, I know that

Those messages had been sent over the span of a few hours, but it didn’t make me look any less crazy. See, this was how it went with me. I got too clingy. I assumed the worst. I badgered people until I pushed them away.

I couldn’t blame them. I was all too aware of how my behaviour affected the well-being of those around me. Zeke deserved to protect his mental space as much as I did.

My phone buzzed with an incoming call, and I almost knocked my laptop to the floor in my haste to answer it.

It was Zeke. I answered,blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Oh, thank fuck you’re not dead.”

Zeke gave a weak chuckle. “Good to know someone would miss me if I were gone. I’m sorry that’s where your brain tookyou though. And I’m also sorry it’s taken this long to get back to you. I wasn’t ignoring you intentionally. Something…came up.”

“No, I’m sorry.” And mortified, I couldn’t believe I’d said that. “What happens in my mind is on me, no one else.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree there, I’m afraid. You don’t have to go through shit like this alone, Sam.”

I smiled. After working myself up all afternoon, the relief at hearing his voice was enormous. “Are you saying you want me to reach out to you every time I have an intrusive thought? I do love chatting to you, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want to have me on the phone twenty-four seven.”

There was a pause. When Zeke spoke again, his voice was quieter than I’d ever heard before. “Not me, necessarily, but someone. I don’t want you feeling alone.”

Alarm began to prick at my skin. “But I’m not alone. I have you.”

Zeke was silent.

I sat up. This time, I didn’t catch my laptop as it crashed to the floor. I didn’t reach for it either, too caught up in everything he wasn’t saying. “Zeke?”

“I’m here,” he said heavily. “Look, Sam. I don’t want to do this, but there’s something I need to tell you?—”

Several things happened in quick succession.

First, my breath caught, my hand clutching at my chest like it knew heartbreak was imminent.

Second, a window smashed downstairs.

Third, there was a loud crash. Followed by another. Then another.

Finally, there were several male voices jeering. Drunk, from the sounds of it.

And they were in my house.

They were in my house.

“Sam? Sam, what is that?”

“Someone’s in my house,” I whispered, scarcely able to believe it. “They broke a window.”

“Fuck.” I could hear Zeke running. “Sam, where are you?”

“In my bedroom.” I hadn’t moved from my spot in the bed, terror keeping me there. “I can hear them. I think they’re in my kitchen.”

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