Page 106 of Web of Lies
“Don’t be so dramatic, dude. What is it?” Chase grumbles.
“One singular stab wound in his abdomen,” Zepp says, rubbing his forehead. “How can they put that in a report and put it as asphyxiation? And they ruled it suicide. How?”
“Money talks,” Seger says, shaking his head. “If they want to cover it up, they probably paid them just to put that shit down.”
“But why? Why this kid? Why take him?” I ask the ceiling above me, sighing. Why is this happening at all? Why can’t it be simple anymore?
“I don’t know. We’ll have to investigate him, I guess. We’ll go through and find a link between everyone.” Zepp suggests, with his fingers moving in a blur across the keyboard.
“This is crazy,” Chase breathes into my neck, finding a comfortable position half on top of me. I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting a smile at the two colossal football players, cuddling with me—together. Their arms brush, yet they don’t move.
“Crap,” Zepp exhales, running a finger along his eyebrow, soothing himself. “This kid went to Talon Prep, just a town over.”
“Good, one of our rivals is gone,” Seger mutters, gaining a punch from Chase in the ribs. Seger grunts from the fist in his gut.
“Not cool. He had a family, maybe,” Chase says, earning the middle finger.
“Yeah—he did. A little sister, parents, even his grandparents. Looks like he moved from—wait, Kace, where did you go to school before?”
My heart pounds in my chest at his hesitation. I didn’t have many friends at Latham, but I didn’t want anyone dead. Not even the girl who called me stupid or her group of friends who teased me. No one deserves to die in such a brutal fashion.
“Latham?” I question, looking over at him. He nods, running a hand down his jawline like he usually does when he’s deep in thought.
“Yeah, that’s where he went, like two years ago, and then he moved.” My breath constricts in my lungs at the possibility. But no, no, he moved farther away than Talon. Or so I thought. He said he wouldn’t be in contact.
“What’s his name?” My throat thickens, weighing my drying tongue down like a weight. Both the boys cuddling with me raise their heads, brows furrowing at my blanching skin.
“Hmm—Elijah Porter.”
The room spins out of control. Invisible, tiny ants crawl up my arms, tickling my flesh, increasing my need to dig my nails in. Scratch. I need to scratch, but hands hold my wrists. Eli. Eli. My Eli. The Eli I gave most of my firsts to. We didn’t part on good terms. No—the worst terms possible. Screaming. Yelling. Words I couldn’t take back. Words he couldn’t take back. He wanted more, but he was moving. I felt too young to do a long-distance type of situation. And now? Now he died under suspicious circumstances. And I never got to say goodbye. I never got to thank him for everything he helped me get through.
“Fuck,” Seger says, holding his palm against my forehead. “Breathe, baby, breathe. Focus on me and then count out loud. One, two, three, four.” I nod, my breaths laboring with every heave.
Tight rubber bands constrict my chest, tightening like a vice, squeezing the breath from my lungs. Fire erupts in my chest and trickles down my limbs. My lips part, gasping for oxygen. My eyes focus on Seger, counting the light freckles on his nose. One, two, three. They’re so light. I wouldn’t have noticed them before.
Every fiber in my lungs burns. Fire—they’re on fire. My lips pop open, sucking in all the oxygen I can get. Panic. Bubbling. “Look around, uh—uh—five things you can see, four things you can uhh, fuck! I forgot!” His big green eyes meet mine, taking my face in his hands.
His forehead presses into mine, forcing me to focus on him. Focus. Focus on the boy in front of you. On the boy beside you. Focus. Focus. One the art decorating the gray walls, the smell of the boy’s cologne, and the cleanliness of the space. Taking a deep breath, the oxygen returns to my lungs in one long draw of breath, easing the pressure on my chest. The vice loosens its hold on me, releasing me from its deadly grip.
“You, you…” A small smile lifts my lips. I lose myself in those eyes staring with such concern. If my breath hadn’t just left me, it’d leave me again. Every ounce of feelings he has drips from his eyes, conveying to me how much he cares.
“Yeah,” Seger whispers. “After that one time, I—uhh—wanted to help more. I wanted to learn what to do for you or anyone, you know. It’s no biggie.” But it was. He doesn’t realize the impact his memory has made on me. He took those minor incidents and stored them away to help me cope in my times of overwhelming anxiety.
I smooth my fingers along his cheek, running over the hint of stubble on his jaw. “Thank you.” A sheepish smile crossed his lips, a touch of red taking over his cheeks.
“No big deal, babe,” he whispers with hesitation. Laying his warm lips on my cheek in a lingering kiss, electricity flickers, buzzing through my body.
“You good?” Chase whispers in the calmest voice he’s ever used, stroking a hand up my arm.
Goosebumps spread across my flesh from his contact, erecting the hair on my arms. I nod. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, the after-effects of the attack roaring through me. My heavy heart pounds against my chest, my lungs are burning with my breaths. But it’s better. It’s getting so much better with them touching me, grounding me to the spot.
“I will be,” I say. “Just have to wait out the aftershocks of my attack.” Chase nods in understanding.
“And the counting?” Chase asks with confusion, trying to piece the puzzle together.
“It eases the symptoms of an anxiety or panic attack. It’s a grounding technique,” Zepp says, making my head jerk to the side. He’s kneeling beside me, staring down with concern in his eyes. His fingers run through my hair, gently massaging my scalp. “Who was he, Kace?” He whispers, running a hand through my hair.
I heave a breath, snuggling into the warmth of their bodies around me, caging me in. But the caging is calming, completing, warming, and lifting. With their hands on me, they thrust me to the land of the living. I’m no longer falling through the darkness in the endless abyss of anxiety.
