Page 18 of Swallow Your Sorries

It’s not blood again,I chant, but it doesn’t work. The wetness thickens by the second. I keep waiting for it to spew from my nose to give me some relief, but it’s so viscous, it won’t leak out.

“Swallow,” a voice behind me whispers. “Swallow. Then you can breathe.”

My throat won’t cooperate like the muscles have forgotten their basic function. They contract, constricting the passageway even more, but they never relax.

A fist strikes my back just as Zedd’s G wagon rolls over a speed bump.

I damn near sever my tongue from the force, and swallow a fuck ton of saliva and a gush of fresh blood in the process.

Suddenly I can breathe.

The city rushes back to me, as does the cool air rustling my hair from the backseat window. I stick my head out of it, inhaling big gulps, but it still isn’t enough.

“I think we’re almost there,” Bae whispers again from the third row.

He knew better than to sit beside me.

I refuse to look at him. I refuse to see the pity in his eyes. Instead, I stare at my bloodless knuckles wrapped around the child-locked door handle. I’d been trying to open it for the entire ride, ready to propel myself onto the nearest sidewalk.

“I’m fine,” I breathe, but I can feel Zedd's and Étienne’s worried gazes from the rearview and passenger mirrors burning into me, telling me that no one believes my words. The fact that Étienne stops his cyberstalking for long enough to even acknowledge me speaks volumes.

I don’t know what’s more humiliating, their pity or my lack of control.

I’m desperately trying to keep a hold of it, but it’s slipping away with each passing building.

The silence, save for the rushing wind, is deafening. Then, it happens again. The thick liquid builds in my throat. Then it pools. It’s so wet. So fucking thick.

I’m fine.

I’m fine.

I’m fine…

I’mnotfine, but I’d be damned if I ever said it.

“Let me out.”

Zedd’s eyes flicker from the road to me again.“But we’re almost—”

I don’t give a fuck. Not about the distance. Not about where we are, not about my childish tantrum.

“Stop the car.Now.” It comes out low and gravelly.Unhinged.

“But—”

“NOW!”

But Zedd doesn’t stop.

One second my ass is firmly in the leather seat, the next it’s bent over the window, my torso dangling towards the rushing asphalt.

Out.

Out.

I have to get out.

Fingers dig into my shoulders and my collar strangles me as I’m pulled back onto the seat so fast and hard I barely have time to blink before the window finishes rolling up. A little click lets me know Zedd disabled my button.

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