Page 59 of Long Shot

I rest my face on her hair. “You’re okay. Nothing happened.”

It scares the shit out of me that she’s not even talking, just vibrating.

“Come on, let’s get out from here.” I attempt to move, but she reaches for me then, clutching my arm and the front of my shirt in a panic-strong grip. “I’m here with you. It’s okay.”

I have no idea what’s going on in her head, but sadly, I’ve seen this before and know that whatever it is, it’s powerful and terrifying. Dread wraps cold, hard fingers around my insides.

I smooth a hand down her back in long strokes. “Breathe,” I whisper. “Breathe with me. In . . . out. In . . . out.” I keep my tone low and measured, my touch slow and gentle. “In . . . out. That’s it.”

I press her hand to my chest and breathe in tandem with her, hoping she’ll pick up on it and emulate it. Long. Slow. Breaths.

“Okay, now we’re going to move. We’ll go to my office. It’s safe, Reese. We’re all safe.”

She lifts her head and gazes at me. Christ, she’s white as chalk, her eyes wide and unblinking, her chin and lips trembling.

“Yeah. We’re safe. Come on.” I manage to scoot out from under the table, then help her stand. She’s still shaking and I support her with an arm banded around her waist.

I glance at Sid. “You take over for now.”

Sid’s forehead furrows, clearly not understanding what’s happening.

I wish I didn’t understand what this is.

I guide her out of the kitchen and into the office. Nobody else is around to see us, and the office is empty and quiet. I settle her into my office chair and drop to a crouch in front of her.

Her breathing is still jagged, her hands icy cold as I clasp them in mine and rub. She closes her eyes and leans her head back. I wait, patiently, knowing that telling her again she’s okay isn’t going to make a damn bit of difference.

Her respiration slows a bit, although it’s still rapid. I slowly stroke and pat her hands, then her forearms. I settle my fingertips over the pulse in one wrist. Yeah, her heart is racing.

She opens her eyes and regards me with an unfocused look. “Oh, God,” she moans.

“I’m here. I’ve got you.”

She lifts her chin then drops it, blinking slowly. “I-I need to get back to work.”

I snort. “Yeah, no.”

She doesn’t argue and that tells me a lot. “I’m dizzy.”

“Yeah.” I release a hand and reach over to smooth her hair back from her clammy face. “You’re breathing too fast. Take it easy.”

She gives a short nod again, her breasts rising and falling with each inhalation and exhalation.

“Has this happened before?” I ask quietly.

“Yes.” She breathes again. “A few times.” Another small moan escapes her lips. “God, I feel awful.”

“It’s okay. It’ll pass. How long does it usually last?”

“Um . . . sometimes a few hours. I haven’t had one of these for a while.”

“Since you’ve been in San Diego?” I would’ve noticed if she had a panic attack while working.

“No. A few times I almost felt like I was going to . . . but it passed.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“No!” Her eyes fly wide again. “No, I have work to do.”

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