Page 58 of Death, Interrupted

Her hands gripped my shirt like she was hanging on for dear life. Her whole body kept trembling, and her breathing still scattered, but she was slowly coming back to me.

“Hey,” I said quietly, brushing her hair away from her face. Her eyes were open, but her gaze was empty. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay. I’m right here with you, and I’m not letting go. Not until you ask me to.”

Her lips twitched, but she didn’t reply, and her eyes stayed on the kitchen floor. She didn’t move in my arms, but I saw her toes curl.

“It’s cold on the floor. Can I take you back to the couch?” I whispered against her forehead before pressing a kiss to it. “I’ll carry you. You don’t have to walk.”

Her eyes closed tightly before they lifted to my face. Though she was looking at me, her gaze was still so empty.

“Yes?” I asked.

She managed the tiniest nod, and I smiled. “Good. Hold on to me.”

I carried her to the couch and sat down with her in my arms, wrapping her back up in the blanket we had shared earlier. Her cheek pressed against my chest, her fingers still locked in my shirt like she didn’t trust the world to stay still if she let go. I didn’t move. Didn’t talk much. Just kept one hand at the back of her head, the other rubbing her back in a soothing way.

Minutes turned into hours. The sky outside began to pale. Her breathing finally evened out, and now and then she twitched.

“Try to sleep,” I told her, and that got another reaction out of her. She dug her nails into my arms and whimpered. “I won’t leave you,” I promised her. “I will be right here holding you when you wake up.”

When her body finally relaxed again, I let my head fall back against the couch. I could feel the ache in my arms from holding her so long, but I didn’t care.

I stayed awake while she slept. Watched her chest rise and fall. Listened to every single breath she took.

She’d been through hell, but she was here now. And as long as she was in my arms, she’d stay safe.

That was a promise I’d keep forever.

Chapter 21

Sly

Sumner stayed at my place for two more nights, and I would’ve been lying if I said that I wanted to keep her here to make sure she’d be okay. I hated the idea of her being alone. Not because she wasn’t capable of being on her own, but because I didn’t want her tofeelalone. I was worried that I was being too clingy at first, by sticking by her side at all times and pretty much doing everything with her over the past two days, but every time I looked at her, I saw contentment on her face. It reassured me that she, in fact, did want to be here andhave me around.

With every joke, every little thing I did to get her to smile, her mood lifted a little more. And, not to brag, but I was damn good at making her laugh. And not once did she cringe or fake-laugh at a thing I said.

Her laugh…God, her laugh. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen or heard.

I could lose myself in it and never want to come back.

I was leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for her to come back wearing her comfortable clothes, and when she appeared, she slipped in like she already belonged here. We were cooking dinner together, but she asked to take a shower before we started. And if it were up to me, she could already move all her things in. I’d share my place with her if she asked me to.

Without a word, she walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. Her warmth made my chest tighten, and I put my arms around her too, not willing to let go unless she told me to.

“Can I ask you something?” she murmured, resting her chin on my chest.

I glanced down at her, admiring her eyes, so bright and vulnerable as they held mine.

“Of course. You can ask me anything,” I said.

She tilted her head up a little more, her expressioncareful. “Since we’ve met…have you ever wondered what it would be like if I didn’t have the panic attacks?”

I let out a slow breath. She was asking for the truth, and while I had no intention of lying, I knew my answer wouldn’t be an easy one.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I’ve thought about it.” I rubbed my thumbs over her lower back. “But not because of me.”

Her brows pulled together, and she waited for me to say more before letting herself catastrophize what she thought I’d say.

“I thought about it because of you,” I continued. “Because you deserve to live without ghosts. You deserve to wake up without that weight on your chest, without wondering if the next moment is going to hit you like a truck. You deserve to breathe easy. To laugh without feeling like you’re going to shatter afterward.”