Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Asher

“Sunday, wake up!” Jackson’s voice reached me like a lifeline, tearing me from the horrific scene I’d been trapped inside.

I gasped for breath, bolting to a sitting position, my throat raw, limbs shaking. “I couldn’t save you.”

He reached for me, and I jerked out of his grasp, chest still heavy as I tried to draw air into my lungs. His expression clouded, hurt mixing with confusion at my instinctive reaction.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed.

“Asher . . . what’s this all about? I won’t be so rough again. I’m so sorry if I hurt you.”

“No. It’s not that,” I started, my head still...