Ryker keeps a hand at the small of my back as we walk back through the halls. The adrenaline that held me upright all day is fading, leaving only the ache underneath. My feet feel heavy. My chest feels hollow. Every candle flame I pass looks like a reminder that life keeps burning even when someone is gone.
As soon as the door to our rooms shuts, the control I’ve been gripping all day slips clean out of my hands. I make it three steps before I fold—before the sound rips out of my chest and tears flood my eyes so fast I can’t see.
“Elena.” Ryker is there instantly, arms coming around me, bracing my weight. I clutch at his suit jacket, fists tangled in fabric, as if I can anchor myself to something solid. “I shouldn’t have—” I try to say, but the words dissolve. All I can feel is Jax’s nam
