Page 59 of Four Letter Feelings

“Hey playboy,” a familiar voice purred in his ear. “I hear y’all won tonight, again.”

“We did.” He turned to flash Jess his winning grin and caught sight of Chelsea not too far behind her. She raised an eyebrow in his direction before disappearing into the crowd. “Fancy a celebratory quickie in the backseat of your car?”

“Sorry, toots. No car tonight and I gotta stay put, Pim’s on his way and I told him we’d celebrate with a beer.”

What the hell is wrong with you? Let’s not tell anyone you are turning down sex with this beautiful woman.

She pouted, clearly irked by the fact he wouldn’t drop everything to have his way with her and excused herself to the restroom but vowed she’d be right back to change his mind.

Checking his phone to see if AJ had texted, he saw he had a missed call from an unfamiliar number, dismissing the notification he glanced up at the TV behind the bar and noticed a ‘Breaking News’ alert for Detroit, Michigan.

Active shooter…

Well known theater…

Shooter in custody…

Not yet known how many casualties there are…

His chest constricted and his breath caught. Panic flooded his entire body.

Stay calm. It’s fine. I’m sure they’re fine.

He closed his eyes and tried to force himself to suck in a breath, instead he hiccupped, panic rising in his chest gripping him tighter and tighter. His stomach churned and his head began to thump with a dull ache. When he opened his eyes, the room spun and it felt as though the walls were closing in on him.

Air. Need Air. Get outside and call Mom.

As he burst through the door into the night air, he was met by a wall of humidity, it wasn’t the relief he’d expected, or needed. He stumbled towards the nearest wall to brace against so he didn’t collapse into a heap on the sidewalk and desperately tried to will his lungs to fill with air.

With shaking hands, he pulled up his mom’s number on his phone and as it rang and rang, his stomach churned harder.

Stay calm. It’s fine, maybe she just can’t hear her phone wherever she is.

Call Dad.

Still nothing.

He dropped his phone, swore and as he stood upright from bending to pick it up, he felt instantly lightheaded as another wave of nausea washed over him. When his dad didn’t pick up either, he couldn’t fight the urge to puke and he bent over the wall and emptied his stomach.

“Well, she’s… interesting.”

Chelsea.

He pushed himself up off the wall and stood straight, turning on shaky legs to face her.

“And by interesting, I mean… well, intere— Jeremy!” She rushed to stand beside him, instantly concerned. “Are you ok? What happened, you look… Shit, Jer, you look awful. Here, sit down. Are you sick?” She laughed, nervously. “Did you drink too much already? Wait, didn’t you just get here?”

He met her worried gaze and saw panic across her face. He struggled to find words as her apprehension grew and her eyes darkened. His ever-reliable sense of humor and sharp wit had abandoned him. She’d clearly expected some kind of snappy retort but he had none to offer.

Active shooter…

Well known theater…

“I—”

He wasn’t sure what to tell her, there wasn’t anything he actually knew other than there had been a shooting, in the same building his parents were in and neither of his parents were answering the phone. He felt his entire body start to shake and somehow managed to turn and vomit over the wall once again. He felt a warm hand rubbing up and down his back as Chelsea soothed him.

“Food poisoning maybe, Jer? Maybe we should get you to urgent care or something?”

---