But he doesn’t. He’s persistent, trailing behind me. “The mayor killed me,” he hisses out, desperation evident in his voice. “And now he’s threatening my family. I need your help.”
I wake,gasping for breath, my heart pounding in my chest.
No, please.
I can’t start to dream abouthimnow.
Sitting up in my dimly lit room, the faint hum of the radio in the background, I try to steady myself.
It was just a dream, just a memory.
In a whisper, I reassure myself that I’m safe now. “It was just a dream, just a memory,” I repeat like a mantra, trying to calm my racing heart.
Before I can fully regain my composure, a soft voice pierces the silence. “Hey, Boo.”
It’s a voice I never thought I’d hear again.
I turn my head and see him sitting next to me.
Saylor.
A sob breaks out of me, and I want to launch myself at him. But I can’t, of course, so I’m left with hugging air, though tingles spread all over my body where we touch.
“You haven’t left,” I cry, tears flowing freely.
He tries to soothe me, his gentle strokes sending a shiver down my back. “I would never leave you willingly. I’m so sorry I had to.”
“Where were you?” I ask, my heart feeling lighter after worrying for so long.
I thought he was gone for good.
“I don’t know,” he muses. “The last thing I remember was our conversation with Hunter. I told you, sometimes I’m just gone for a longer time. But I don’t think I was ever gone that long.”
The relief I was feeling seconds ago is slightly dampened.
This can’t be a good sign.
“Are you okay?” I reach out to touch the birthmark on his cheek. He smiles and leans in, touching our birthmarks together. Butterflies rise in my chest, and it’s like I can breathe again for the first time in a long while.
“You’re not mad with me?” His tone carries a hint of worry.
“I’m so happy to have you back. You can’t even imagine,” I confess. “I missed you badly.”
“I missed you more,” he says, leaning away just to scoot back in and kiss my birthmark, the short tingles making me giggle.
“I thought you didn’t notice that you were gone?”
“I miss you all the time,” he explains. “It doesn’t matter if I’m conscious or not. It’s a permanent state.”
“Saylor,” I breathe out, so many feelings bubbling up to the surface.
Fuck, having him back is like the best thing ever.
What does that tell you, Sloan?
“Come on, Boo. It’s late. You need some sleep. Lie back down. We can talk tomorrow,” he commands.
“I just got you back,” I protest, crossing my arms over my chest.
