Chapter 25 #2
He grunted, but the faint curve of his lips gave him away. For some reason, the banter helped. Goblin helped where he sprawled against me so I could pet him. AB’s playful looks and easy winks helped. Bones’ terse demeanor and gruff comments helped.
At the same time, I swore I had an entire hive of bees buzzing under my skin. Every mile we traveled away from the airport, the more intense the feeling. My breathing grew shallower, and my pulse seemed to race.
By the time we turned onto a quiet residential street, the houses spaced just far enough apart to give the illusion of privacy, the buzzing in my chest had become a roar. Not bees anymore—this was a swarm. A living, crawling, stinging thing that filled every inch of me.
I couldn’t breathe.
I didn’t realize it at first, not fully.
I thought maybe it was just nerves, the anticipation of getting closer, of being back here, so near Amorette’s life, her work, her world.
But when Bones slowed the SUV and AB reached for the garage remote clipped to the visor, the tightness in my throat became unbearable.
My hands started to tingle. Then they went numb.
Goblin shifted in my lap with a little concerned whine, and I barely noticed.
The pressure in my chest was getting worse, like a boulder had been dropped on me and I was being crushed slowly beneath it.
I couldn’t pull in enough air. My vision blurred at the edges, white blooming in the corners like someone had turned on a too-bright light.
I was dying.
Oh God—was I having a heart attack?
I curled forward instinctively, wrapping my arms around Goblin and pressing my face into his fur. My breath came in shallow, gasping pulls that weren’t helping. The cold air in the car felt too sharp. Like I was breathing in ice.
“I—I can’t—I can’t—” The words barely came out. I felt like I was underwater.
“Grace?” Bones’ voice cut through the roaring in my ears. It wasn’t calm. Not like usual. There was an edge to it.
We hadn’t even made it to the house yet. The SUV slowed to a jerking halt and the next thing I knew, Bones had the back door open. Cold air rushed in, but I couldn’t care.
He was crouched beside me a second later. Goblin shifted out of the way but didn’t move far, staying pressed to my side, tail thumping once against the seat before going still.
“Dollface, look at me,” Bones said, voice low and firm. “You’re okay. You’re not dying. You’re having a panic attack.”
“I—I c-can’t—” I couldn’t stop trembling. Couldn’t get a breath in deep enough. Couldn’t think.
“AB, grab the med bag. There’s an inhaler in there and the grounding kit. Now.” Bones’ hands cupped my face, and I tried to meet his eyes, but everything was so bright and loud and wrong.
“I can’t do this,” I whispered. “I can’t—I can’t—”
“You’re not going anywhere right now,” Bones interrupted. “You’re safe. You’re not alone. You hear me? We’re right here. You’re not alone.”
“Here.” AB shoved something into Bones’ hand, and a moment later a small, cool plastic piece was pressed against my lips.
“Just breathe. You don’t have to think. Just do this with me, okay? In.” He pressed the inhaler and the medicine flooded my lungs with a bitter, metallic taste. “Hold. Good. Now out.”
I tried. God, I tried. Tears streamed down my face, and I wasn’t even aware of them until Goblin started licking them gently.
“We’re going to do the 5-4-3-2-1, Grace,” AB said from somewhere nearby. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t do anything but shiver and shake. “Bones has you. Goblin has you. You’re not in danger. You’re not in the dark. You’re not alone.”
Bones shifted beside me, one arm wrapped around my shoulders now, his chest pressed against my side. He was solid and warm and real.
“Five things you can see,” AB prompted. “Just say them. Anything. You don’t have to think hard.”
My gaze darted around, desperate and blurred. “Uh… steering wheel. Dashboard. Bones’ jacket. G-Goblin’s face. My—my boots.”
“Good. Four things you can touch.”
“My jeans… Bones’ arm. Goblin’s fur. The leather seat.”
“Three things you can hear.”
“Your voice,” I choked out. “Goblin… whining. My—my breathing.”
“Two things you can smell.”
“Dog,” I said. A weak, rasping laugh escaped me. “And mint.”
“That’s the inhaler,” Bones murmured. “Last one, Dollface. One thing you can taste.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Fear.”
They didn’t laugh. Thank God, they didn’t laugh.
“Okay,” AB said, voice gentle. “Now you’re back. That’s all we needed. You’re here. You made it.”
I was shaking like a leaf, but the world had slowly started to come back into focus.
The roaring in my ears dulled. My chest didn’t feel like it was going to implode.
And Goblin… God, that sweet baby didn’t leave my side for a second.
He licked at my fingers, then curled tighter against me, as if he could shield me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, forehead pressed to the top of his head.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Bones growled, but it was pain not anger. “You think we don’t know what that feels like? You’re allowed to panic. You’re allowed to feel. Don’t ever be sorry for it.”
“We’ve all been there,” AB added. “Hell, Bones punched a hole through a wall once during one.”
“You punched a hole through a wall,” Bones muttered.
“You made me punch the wall,” AB shot back.
Somewhere in the middle of that absurd little exchange, I started breathing again. Really breathing.
“I didn’t expect it to hit like that,” I admitted, voice raw.
“You’ve been holding it together with duct tape and spite,” AB said. “Don’t be shocked when the tape gives out.”
Bones shifted back slightly so he could look at me, brushing a thumb under my eye to wipe away the tears. “Next time, tell us it’s building up. We’ll help you bleed it out before it breaks loose.”
I nodded. “Okay.” Then, after a pause, “Thank you. Both of you.”
“And Goblin,” AB added. “He’s the MVP.”
Goblin woofed softly as if in agreement.
I gave his ears another scratch and finally straightened, the ache in my chest dulling. It wasn’t gone. But it wasn’t going to drown me now.
The guys gave me a few more minutes. Then Bones helped me out of the SUV, and Goblin hopped down to follow us. We were here. We were doing this.
And no matter how badly I wanted to fall apart again—I wasn’t alone.
Not anymore.