Page 60 of Long Shot

“We can manage without you for one night.” I glance at my watch. “It’s nearly seven. Things will quiet down now.”

She sighs. Apparently, she realizes she’s not going to be able to do it. “Shit.”

One corner of my mouth lifts. “I’ll be right back.”

I stride out to the bar and grab a glass of ice water, lifting it in a gesture of greeting at Beck as I leave to go back to the office.

There, I give Reese the water, which she drinks gratefully. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Feel well enough to get out to my vehicle?”

“You don’t have to drive me home.”

I snort yet again. “Yeah, I do. Let’s go.”

“My purse . . . it’s in my locker.”

I help her to the staff room where she retrieves her purse, then lead her out the back door. I’m parked right there, and it’s only a few minutes before I pull up on the street in front of her duplex.

I help her inside, taking her keys from her to unlock the door and pushing it open. Jack bounds toward us.

“You’re surprised to see me this early, aren’t you,” Reese says in a thready voice. She reaches down to pat Jack’s head and misses.

I take her purse and toss it onto a chair. “Come on. Let’s get you into your bed.” I want to pick her up and carry her, but she holds on to my arm as we make our way to her bedroom. Jack trails along after us.

With a sigh of relief, she crawls onto her bed and plants her face into a pillow. Jack jumps on the other side of her and sits, giving Reese what appears to be a puzzled look.

I sit on the edge of the bed, tugging her hair off her face and smoothing it. “Better?”

“A bit. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like it’s something you can control.”

“I feel like I should be able to. I should be able to just get over it. It shouldn’t happen.”

“Mmm. Doesn’t work that way.” I rub her back again. She’s not shaking now so that’s good.

“How do you know this? You’re awfully understanding.”

“I’ve seen people have panic attacks before.”

“Oh.” Her eyes closed, she falls silent. Her breathing is slowing, but she’s still sweaty.

“It was the Dumpster,” I say quietly. “That’s what the noise was.”

“Oh. Jeez.” She sighs. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. It’s fine. What can I get for you? More water? Do you have any medication you take?”

“No. No meds. Water would be good. There are bottles in the fridge.”

I head to the kitchen. When I come back with a bottle of water, Jack is licking Reese’s jaw, her arm around his neck.

“He’s worried about you.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.” She rolls over and pushes up to take the water.

I grab her pillows and arrange them behind her to prop her up. After she’s guzzled down half the water, I set the bottle on her nightstand and sit again.

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