Page 8 of You've Got The Love
“It was a panic attack, well, at least the beginnings of one; you managed to calm yourself down before it got too bad.”
“You calmed me down. No way would I have pulled myself out of that if you hadn’t told me what to do. I felt like I was going to stop breathing altogether,” I tell him quietly, almost ashamed that I couldn’t control my feelings.
“Yes, that’s what it feels like; like your throat is going to close off, your chest is going to cave in, and you could die,” he breaks eye contact with me. “I suffered with them when I lost Marieke,” he states, pulling away from me completely, sitting back in his seat and taking a sip of his I’m sure now cold tea, looking out the windows in front of us. I can’t imagine how painful his memories of his wife are, so I try not to take his turning away fromme to heart.
I wipe at my face and take a deep breath; I’ve never been more thankful to have air filling my lungs. A ‘panic attack’, I’ve never had one before, and I never want to have one again. I pick up Bas’ blanket and pull it tightly around me, crossing my arms over my chest, as I’m starting to feel cold, really cold in fact. I suddenly feel exhausted. Bloody hell, panic attacks really wipe you out. Well, that and being told to run as an outlaw biker gang could be after you.
I look out the big window to actually see the waves this time. It’s dark now, making the sea look almost black and very sinister. I hope Dad and the club are okay. I can’t wait to get toHolland, to Bas’ home, so that I can call him. I’ll never understand Dad's lifestyle, why he chose to live that way. They make it look exciting and edgy in movies, but in reality, it’s far from that. It seems like every time I talk to Dad, something bad is happening. Granted, it’s been a few years since someone died, but there’s fairly regular stabbings, shootings, and one member got his ear chopped off!His ear!Dad was stabbed last year in the shoulder, their doctor—a‘friend’of the club, who isn’t on the up and up—said if it were two inches lower, it would have been his heart and he would have died. Needless to say, I didn’t take it well. I begged him to leave and move down here with me, but once you are in, the only way you leave is by death. Which again, is something I can’t get my head around. I’ll always be thankful that Dad sent me down south to grow up, as I shudder to think what my life would be if I grew upin the club. I’d probably be someone’s ‘old lady’ by now. Or dead.
“What’s wrong?” Bas says, making me jump as I was so deep in my thoughts. The boat is fairly quiet now, and a lot of people are snoozing.
“Oh, erm… I was just thinking about my dad, why?”
“You were starting to breathe quickly again,” he murmurs as he studies my face, and I watch as his eyes move from my eyes to my hair, to my mouth and remain there for a few seconds longer as he wets his lips with his tongue. My mouth automatically opens a bit, and I rub my lips together and watch as his eyes stay glued to my mouth, and I notice his pupils have blown.Interesting. I’m just about to ask him how long this ferry ride is—I have no idea—just to have something to say, as the captain's voice comes over the loudspeaker and tells us to start making our way to the correct level. He also announces it in French, which makes me smile even though I have absolutely no idea what he just said. He could have been telling us aliens have landed on the top deck for all I know.
“That was so cool. What did he say?” I ask Bas, wishing I spoke the language.
“He told us the exact same as he said in English,” he laughs. “What do you think he said?” He keeps laughing, obviously finding me ridiculous. I can feel my face turning bright red as it gets hot.
“Well, I don’t know? That aliens had landed on the top deck?” I can’t help but laugh a little with him and hit his arm for being so mean.
“You are a wally. It’s a good job I like you, Bell,” he pushes me sideways with his shoulder. He’s smiling now as he starts collecting our things, so I hope his sadness has left him. I know it’s always there, just under the surface, but it kills me to see him that way. He deserves only happiness.
“Come on, wally, let’s get back to the truck,” he jokes at my expense as he shakes his head, still smiling, which makes me smile. I grab my handbag and sling it over my body as I keep Bas’ blanket tucked tightly around me. It smells of him, which makes me want to rub myself on it like a cat. Preferably naked.And purring.
“How long is the drive to your house, Meany Meanerson?” I grin up at him.
“You walked into that one, and you know it,” he steers me forward with a hand on my lower back. “It’s about six hours. We have to drive throughBelgiumto get to the Netherlands.”
“Wow,Belgium? I’ve never been. Is it nice? Ooo, they have lush chocolate there, right?” I look over my shoulder at him and catch him shaking his head at me.
“What?” I ask, frowning.
“You Brits and your sweet tooth. I don’t eat chocolate,” he states like he didn’t just tell me the most insane thing I’ve ever heard.
“WHAT?” I almost yell as I stop and face him directly, making the people around us look at me. I shrink down into the blanket and bite my lips.
Bas bursts into laughter. He has such a deep, rich laugh. I would do anything to hear it every day of my life.
He puts his arm around my shoulder this time and hustles us to the truck.
I wake up with a jolt, my heart pounds against my ribs as I clutch the blanket tightly and look around to see only darkness outside.
“Hello, sleepyhead,” Bas says quietly.
I look over at him, sitting in his big seat—which he makes look regular size—totally in control of his environment, he looks hot. Ugh, he always looks hot. He looks hot just breathing.
“Hey. Where are we?France?” I ask croakily. Slyly trying to rub the sleepy dust from my eyes and straighten out my hair a little, as I know it probably looks crazy right about now.
“Nope, we are inBelgium, we crossed the border about 30 minutes ago.”
“I missed our wholeFrenchleg? I wanted to see more ofFrancethan just the port,” I say, pouting.
“Amber, you’re exhausted, you are dealing with an extremely high stress situation and add to that you experienced your first panic attack. You crashed less than five minutes after leaving the port at Le Havre. Give yourself a break,liefje, your body needs rest.”
“Hmm… I guess. I feel kind of embarrassed that I had a panic attack; I should have been stronger than that. Iamstronger than that. It’s not like my life hasn’t been affected by the club before.”
“Has your life been threatened before?” Bas asks sternly, sounding pissed off.
