17. Chapter 17 #2
Caroline had given me words for it. Tools. Grounding exercises. Breathing patterns. Name five things you can see. Four you can touch.
I tried.
Apples. Floor. Green sign. Woman in—
No.
Couldn't hold it.
The man's voice carried again. My vision tunneled.
I abandoned the cart.
Someone said something when I shoved through the doors, but I didn't stop. Cold air hit my face. I crossed the parking lot too fast, yanked open my truck, and locked the doors the second I was inside.
My hands shook so hard I couldn't get the key into the ignition.
"Fuck."
I dropped my forehead against the steering wheel.
"Breathe."
My voice sounded wrong.
"Breathe, goddammit."
In. Hold. Out.
Again.
It didn't work. Or maybe it worked just enough to keep me from completely losing it.
I finally got the truck started and drove. No destination. Just movement.
I drove for an hour. Maybe longer.
By the time the adrenaline burned down enough for me to think clearly, I was parked beneath a streetlight with no memory of choosing the lot.
I looked at my phone.
7:43 p.m.
There were people I could call. Ditch. Someone from the club.
I could go home and wait it out. I could use every coping mechanism Caroline had taught me and prove I didn't need anyone.
That thought sat badly. Because maybe needing someone wasn't the same thing as failing.
And the person I wanted was Caroline.
I knew all the reasons that was a problem. I drove to her office anyway.
At eight p.m., the parking lot was empty except for her car. I sat there staring at it. She was still working. Or avoiding going home.
Either way, she was there.
I should have left. Should have waited until the next available session. Should have called instead of showing up unannounced.
My hand was already on the door handle.
"Bad idea," I muttered. Then I got out.
Caroline answered on the second knock. Her expression shifted from surprise to concern in half a second.
"Colt?"
I tried to speak. Nothing came out.
Her eyes moved over me, taking in everything I was trying to hide. The tension in my shoulders. The hands I couldn't quite keep steady. The way I kept checking the empty hallway behind her.
"Come in," she said.
No questions.
I stepped past her.
Her office was different at night. Darker. More intimate.
Only two lamps were on, throwing soft pools of light across the room. The windows reflected the office back at us instead of showing the world outside.
The walls seemed closer. Or maybe that was just my nervous system still firing threat responses.
Caroline locked the door. The click made me flinch. She saw it.
Immediately unlocked it again. "Open or closed?"
The question nearly broke something in me.
"Closed," I said. "Just... don't lock it."
"Okay."
She shut the door.
"What happened?"
"I had a trigger."
Her face softened.
"In public," I added. "Couldn't manage it on my own."
"Where?"
"Grocery store."
"Are you physically safe now?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sure?"
I looked at her. Actually looked.
"Yeah."
She nodded. "What do you need?"
The question shouldn't have been difficult. It was.
Because I knew what I needed, and asking for it felt more exposing than telling her every violent thing I'd ever done.
"Just..." I swallowed. "Sit with me."
"I can do that."
"Don't try to fix it."
"I won't."
"Don't tell me what exercise to do or ask me to rate my distress or any of that shit."
Something almost like a smile touched her mouth.
"Anything else?"
"Just be here."
Caroline pulled her chair closer. Not across from me. In front of me.
Near enough that I could see the exhaustion beneath her eyes. Near enough that the professional distance between us felt dangerously thin.
She sat.
And she just... existed with me in the discomfort.
For a while, neither of us spoke. My breathing slowly evened out. The room stopped feeling like it was shrinking.
"What triggered you?" she asked eventually.
"A man."
Her posture changed.
"Did he approach you?"
"No."
"Threaten you?"
"No."
"Did you know him?"
"No."
The word came out bitter. I rubbed my palms against my jeans.
"He wasn't anyone. That's the stupid part."
"It's not stupid."
"He told somebody to move."
Caroline waited.
"That was it," I said. "One word. Wrong voice. Wrong build. Suddenly I couldn't fucking breathe."
"Colt—"
"I knew where I was."
"I know."
"I knew he wasn't a threat."
"I know."
"And it didn't matter."
Her voice softened. "No. Sometimes it doesn't."
I stared at her.
"You ever hate that?"
She went very still.
I knew immediately I'd crossed into something personal. I should have taken it back.
Instead, I said, "Knowing better and still not being able to stop your body from reacting."
Caroline looked down at her hands.
"Yes."
One word. No clinical explanation. No shield.
Just yes.
Something in my chest cracked open.
"I'm scared," I said.
Her gaze lifted.
The admission surprised both of us.
"Of what?"
I laughed under my breath.
"Pick something."
"Colt."
"The surveillance. What's coming. The fact that I can't protect everyone."
I stood because sitting suddenly felt impossible. Caroline didn't stop me.
I paced once across the office.
"I'm scared I'll miss something. That someone I care about gets hurt because I wasn't paying attention. I'm scared every time I start thinking maybe things could be normal, something happens to remind me they never will be."
"That's a lot to carry."
"Yeah."
I turned toward her.
"And I'm scared of the way I feel about you."
Silence.
There it was. No taking it back now.
Caroline's lips parted.
I kept going because stopping would have been worse.
"I'm scared of the fact that I can't do anything about it yet. I'm scared that six months from now, you'll tell me this was all in my head. That I confused being understood with—"
"I won't."
I froze.
Caroline looked almost as shocked as I felt.
"What?"
She stood slowly.
"I won't tell you it was all in your head."
My heart kicked hard.
"Caroline."
"I'm scared too."
She shouldn't have said it. I knew that. She knew that.