No. It wasn’t okay. Nothing was freaking okay.
“Ryker?” I whispered his name. “I’m… I’m going crazy now. I’m seeing dead people.”
“Hey, sugar.” Ryker set his palms against both sides of my face. He ignored the people behind him, giving me all of his focus. “You aren’t going crazy. I promise you.”
I was. I had to be.
My name on a plea forced my eyes around Ryker’s form. My breath came in short pants.
“Listen to me,” Ryker whispered, bring my focus back to him. “Good. Now—”
“I can’t. I can’t.” I shook my head, repeating the two words. I began to back away, feeling as though my stomach was about to expel breakfast again.
“Please.”
“How can I help you?” Ryker asked, not letting me pull away. Or maybe he would if I tried just a bit harder.
Words weren’t going to work with me when I could barely breathe. My head swam, heart pounding a million miles an hour.
Without a word, Ryker pulled me a few more steps. I clenched my eyes tightly shut. One foot in front of the other. One lungful of air. Then another.
I fought each thought that raced through my mind. I had to be seeing things. There was no way he was alive.
I had killed him. The blood had dripped from my hands like poison as I stabbed him in the side after knocking him unconscious.
It didn’t matter if my eyes were glued shut, or wide open. I’d never be able to forget the moment he died.
“I can’t. He’s not real. I’m dreaming.” The words were spoken fast, more for my own sake than anyone else’s. I had no clue if I even made sense. “Can’t. Dead. No.”
Ryker stopped, then positioned me in front of him. I pressed my face into his chest, sobs wracking my entire body.
“He’s alive. Touch him. Feel him.” Ryker’s voice was next to my ear. He waited a moment before gently prying it from the front of his shirt. I hadn’t even realized I had clutched him like some sort of toddler.
I shook my head, a whine leaving my throat.
Before I was ready, sure that this was all just a horrible dream and that I’d wake up at any given moment, the tips of my fingers touched another. The skin was warm. Then, slowly, the warmth clasped my entire hand.
Another sob bubbled forth.
“It’s not real.”
“He’s very real, sugar,” Ryker whispered. “Can I help you?”
I didn’t know what I wanted or needed. I didn’t know if I wanted this to be real or fake. How could I decide? What would be better?
Part of my body turned as two hands sat on my hips to get me to face the man who was dead. Next, a hand took my other hand, guiding it forward. A moment later, my hand was placed on another hip.
“Emery.” The sob wasn’t from Ryker.
I shook from head to toe.
“Step forward.” Ryker’s voice in my ear told me exactly what to do. I latched on to it, doing as he said as nothing else made sense. “There you go.”
My front pressed against another, my arms now finally grasping to what they knew. They wrapped around the body in a death hold.
“Oh, God.” My knees collapsed, taking the both of us crashing to the ground.
With my face pressed against a throat, arms were holding me just as tightly.
