Page 109 of Devour

I pull her phone out of my pocket and watch the video again. I can’t stop watching it. Every time I press play, I’m looking for something new and to see my perfect girl alive and breathing.

The double doors open. The same man in scrubs steps out, and I’m in front of him before he can open his mouth.

“She’s resting. Vitals are steady. She’s not conscious yet, but her oxygen levels are improving.” He holds the door open. “If you can control yourself, you can sit with her.”

If I wasn’t in such a desperate state to see her, I would beat the shit out of this guy. I walk through the doors and Priest follows.

She’s the only patient here, and they have her in the last bed on the right. There’s a curtain half-drawn around her. There are monitors beeping and an IV running into the back of her hand. Her face is pale against the white pillow, and her freshly dyed hair is fanned out around her head. Her lips aren’t blue anymore. They’re pale pink. I swallow the knot in my throat at the sight of her.

My hoodie is gone. They must have cut it off her. She’s in a hospital gown, and her arms are on top of the blanket. I stare at her hot pink nails against the white sheet.

I lower my lips to hers, needing to feel the warmth in them. “Hey, little heathen.” I whisper against them. “I’m going to find who did this. There’s not a corner of this fucking earth they can hide from me.”

I kiss her again and pull a chair to the side of the bed and sit down. Priest leans against the wall on the other side of the bed.

I pick up her hand and hold it in both of mine. She’s warmer than she was in the car, and she’s breathing on her own.

“Wake up for me, baby.” My voice cracks, and I don’t give a fuck. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

I press her knuckles against my lips and close my eyes. My girl is loud, and she fights me as much as she submits. I want to go back to this morning, when I was in bed with her before all of this bullshit. I’d have never left her. I’d have tied her to our bed and told her how much I fucking love her. I’d have told her that I want her to marry me and give me our children, and I want to go through everything this fucked-up world throws at us together.

And I’m never letting her go.

I hold her hand against my mouth and watch her. Whoever did this is on borrowed time, and I’ll find them once I know she’s alright. I know my girl didn’t try to kill herself. I would bet my life on it, but my life isn’t worth shit without Saylor.

Watching her sleeping in this bed, I’ve never felt more helpless in my entire goddamn life.

CHAPTER 46

SAYLOR

An annoying beeping is making my head hurt. I feel like it’s right in my fucking ear. But there’s a voice here too.

Axl.

My heart races. I think he’s talking to someone. I can’t make out what he’s saying. My mouth tastes like bile and chemicals, and my throat burns so bad I want to claw at it.

I try to open my eyes but the light is too much. I close them again and try to remember how I got here.

Fuck. I think I’m crying. I’m not dead. I don’t know how that’s possible, but I’m not dead.

I try to open my eyes again. The room is white and bright. Axl is in a chair beside the bed with his elbows on his knees, and both his hands are wrapped in bloody bandages.

“Axl.” It comes out as a rasp. I’m not even sure if I really said it.

His head snaps up, and I see his red eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Maybe he hasn’t. I don’t know how long I’ve been here.

“Hey, baby.” He’s out of the chair, and his hands are on my face. His forehead presses against mine. “Thank fuck. There’s my girl.”

His lips press against mine. They’re soft, and he’s never kissed me this gently in his life. His thumbs wipe the tears off my cheeks, and I can feel his hands shaking against my face.

“What happened?” My voice is raw. Every word hurts my throat. “How did I get here?”

“I found you in our bed.” He pulls back to look at me. His jaw is tight, and he’s deciding what to say. “You weren’t breathing, Saylor.”

My brain is working to piece together what happened. “How long have I been here?”

“Since last night.” He sits on the edge of the bed and keeps one hand on my face. His bandaged fingers are rough against my skin. “You’ve been out for fourteen hours.”