Christian Allister
I haven't let her go. Not for a single moment. Her warmth against me is the only thing keeping me anchored to reality, the only thing convincing me that she's here—alive—and not some ghost I'm chasing through the corridors of my mind. I can't let go. Not yet. Not until I'm certain that this nightmare hasn't taken her from me.
A week wouldn't be enough to chase away this fear. But a week is impossible. Hell, I'll be lucky to get a few days before the world demands something else from me. Never mind the fact that my girlfriend—my Sloane—was almost killed tonight. The very thought twists my stomach into a knot, tight and unyielding, as every "what if" I've been trying to shove down forces its way to the surface.
