Saige’s hand is shaking when she points her finger at the blood running down my cheek. I don’t give a shit about my head; I just need to know she’s okay. I try to keep her still as she fights to stand. It’s so damn hard to breathe, but I don’t know how much of that is from the smoke and debris or how much of it is from the sickening realization that calling in the threat probably caused double the amount of people to die than the original bomb would have. Regret and guilt bombard my soul but I can’t think of that now; I have to take care of Saige. She whimpers and falls to her knees, brushing the hair off a girl’s face. A dead girl. Saige’s friend is dead and it’s my fucking fault! A heart shattering scream leaves Saige’s lips and I can’t hold the tears back any longer as I witness her crushing grief. I reach for her, but she fights me, pulling away. She looks so damn lost standing in the rubble of the demolished stadium. I can tell the second the crowd’s emotions break through her shock because she looks as if someone punched her hard in the stomach and she starts to fall. Lunging forward, I catch her just before she hits the jagged debris and lift her limp body. I carefully shelter her against my chest while I rush as fast as I can through the devastation to get her away from the crowd. Andy steps beside me. He doesn’t say a word when he sees me. He doesn’t have to. Andy’s never seen me show much of any kind of emotion. For all intents and purposes, my life ended the day I left Saige. I simply went through the motions for four long, torturing years. Now, I’ve been with her for less than twenty-four hours and she's already breathing life back into me. She’s the one who feels everyone’s emotions, but the feelings she stirs inside my heart scares the living shit out of me. I’d die and kill for this girl, and, right now, I’d give my life to take away her pain.
