ROOSEVELT’S POV
"Zyran, I can't breathe," I gasped, holding onto his shirt. "My chest hurts."
"Look at me," Zyran said softly. He cradled my face in his hands. "Breathe with me, Roosevelt. In and out. I won't let him keep her. I promise."
"He is crazy," I sobbed, shaking my head. "He thinks...