Page 91 of Ordinary Secrets

My heart plummets. The sound I heard was definitely screaming. Arella’s screams. And now, I know why.

Spiders.

Hundreds—no,thousandsof little black spiders are crawling all over Arella’s apartment. Some are so big, I can see the little hairs on their legs. The flames between my fingers flicker as I resist throwing fireballs at them and dash toward the screaming.

Arella’s on her bed, screeching and flailing her arms. Spiders cover everything: the walls, the floor, the bed,my girl. I dart to her and wave a hand over her body, thinking it’ll make the spiders fly off her. They don’t.

In a panic, I’ve forgotten that my telekinesis doesn’t work on living things. So with my bare hands, I swat the creatures away. Then I lift Arella into my arms and rush her out of the apartment.

She’s still screaming when I set her bare feet down and flick away the last remaining spiders still crawling over her. They fall to the ground and scurry away.

“It’s okay, baby,” I say as calmly as I can, yet loud enough so she can hear me over her screams. It doesn’t quiet her. With my thumb, I wipe away the tears running down her cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

I’m lying to her again. It’s not okay. I’m freaking out too. It breaks me to see her like this. Roughly, I pull her against me and hold her like she’s going to evaporate into thin air if I don’t. I let her scream into my chest, and I clutch her until thescreaming subsides. Eventually, all she does is tremble in my arms, hyperventilating.

I kiss the top of her hair. “It’s all right, baby. I’m here.”

I spot her phone on the ground. She must have been holding it, then dropped it on our way out. The urge to pick it up isn’t as big as my need to comfort her. On the small of her back, I caress my fingertips in little circles, silently telling her that she’s safe now.

“Don’t worry, angel. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

I lean back to look at her. Her whole body is stiff. Her eyes are screwed shut, and she’s still panting. I lift her and cradle her in my arms as I march to my car. She doesn’t wrap her arms around my neck the way she usually does. She’s just rigid and quivering, and it’s scaring me.

Once I get her into the passenger seat, I lean in to examine her. Her eyes are still shut, and her hands are in tight, shaky fists.

“Babe?” I say tenderly.

She doesn’t respond. I shrug my jacket off and drape it around her front. Then I click her seat belt in.

With a kiss on her forehead, I caress her cheek. “You’re safe now.”

She’s still shuddering.

What do I do?

After closing her door, I fetch her phone off the ground. Then I round the front of my car and plop behind the wheel. I don’t start the engine. I just stare at her.

“Angel?” I wait for her to say something.

She doesn’t, and my throat closes up.

What’s wrong? Why isn’t she responding?

“Arella? Please say something.” My voice breaks. I’m barely getting the words out.

She doesn’t even stir. It’s like she didn’t hear me at all.

“Fuck.” I punch the steering wheel. What the fuck is going on?

Breathe,I command myself, because I can’t lose it right now. Arella needs me to be strong. I suck in a deep breath through my nose, then slowly blow it out through my lips.

I know what I have to do. I just don’t want to do it. I hate hospitals. I avoid them at all costs. Sensing the emotions of dying patients, people in pain, and overworked nurses always makes me nauseous. Still, I start the car because I can’t think of another option.

Arella barely moves as I pull up to the nearest hospital.

She’s still unresponsive as I carry her out of the car and rush her into the building.

Her eyes still haven’t opened by the time I burst through the doors of the Emergency Department.

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