Page 58 of Things We Hide from the Light
A light sweat broke over my body, while inside, I felt chilled to the bone.
“Come on, man. Keep it together,” I said through gritted teeth.
But the band around my chest was tightening, tightening. The breath I held began to leave my lungs. The sound vanished from my ears, replaced with the muffled thud of my own heartbeat.
My breath was a thin wheeze.
There was no stopping it. No talking myself down. Cold sweat coursed down my back.
“Fuck me.”
My hands clenched into fists as the band around my chest got tighter and tighter. My heart raced under my ribs as the ache spread. I made it through the door to the foot of the stairs before my legs gave out. I crashed into the wall and slid down to the cold tile.
“Not real. It’s not fucking real,” I repeated between thready inhales.
Panic was never the solution. It would never serve you in times of crisis. As a cop, that had been drilled into my head.I’d been trained to stay calm, to follow procedure, to operate on instinct. Yet no procedure, no training had prepared me for these kind of attacks.
I was burning up and freezing at the same time. Pain radiated through my chest and my vision started to go dark around the edges. Spots of light danced in front of my eyes.
I hated myself. Hated the weakness. The lack of control. Hated the thought that this was all in my head. That it could happen anywhere. I couldn’t do my job if I was curled into a fucking ball on the ground. Couldn’t protect this town if I couldn’t even protect myself from the monsters in my own fucking head.
TWELVE
WELCOME TO THE DANGER ZONE
Lina
“Great job pooping on the grass and not the sidewalk,” I told Piper as we scurried toward the entrance to the apartments. She pranced confidently toward the door like it had been her home for more than three days.
It was a cold, quiet night in Knockemout. The air was crisp and still.
I slid my key in the lock, opened the heavy door, and froze.
“Nash?” I ushered Piper inside, let the door slam shut behind us, and raced to his side.
He sat on the floor, his back to the wall at the foot of the stairs, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, hands fisted.
“Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
I ran my hands over his shoulders, down his arms. He caught my hand with one of his own and squeezed hard.
“Just…catching…my breath,” he managed.
I held on tight to his hand and used my free one to push his hair back from his forehead. He was sweating and shivering atthe same time. Either the man was down with the flu or he was on the tail end of a panic attack.
“You okay?” he asked me.
“I’m fine. So are you,” I insisted. “You have enough air.”
Grimly, he clenched his jaw and nodded.
With a whimper, Piper shoved her face under Nash’s arm and crawled into his lap.
“We were out for a walk. I thought I’d take her out one last time so you wouldn’t have to when you got back. She did her business and we took a stroll around the block. I think her limp is a little better. Did the vet say anything about PT? I read this article about acupuncture for dogs.”
I was babbling. The man had scared the shit out of meagain.
“Relax, Angel,” he rasped, his grip on my hand starting to loosen. “It’s okay.” His other hand came up and stroked down Piper’s back.
