“Liam.” Jacob’s voice was rough with concern, anchoring him in an instant.
His throat worked uselessly, no words came.
“I—” He pressed the heel of his hand hard against his sternum, desperate to shove the panic back inside. “I can’t—” His breath snapped, broken and shallow. “Can’t breathe.”
“Okay.” Jacob’s tone reached straight through the haze. “Are you somewhere you can talk?”
“Living room.”
His pulse thudded so loudly he almost missed Jacob’s next words. “Is she asleep?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now put both feet on the floor.”
The command hit with enough force to bypass thought. He obeyed, his bare soles finding the cool wood, the grain pressing into his skin.
“Feel the floor under you. Ground yourself there.”
Liam nodded before remembering Jacob couldn’t see him. “Okay.”
“Now breathe with me,” Jacob said, his voice dropping into a register that demanded obedience. “In, two, three. Hold. Out, two, three.”
He tried, but air snagged halfway down, his chest locking.
“Again. In, two, three. Hold. Out.”
They kept at it, breath after breath. Jacob’s voice remained patient and steady in his ear, until time slid past unnoticed. The vise on his chest didn’t vanish, but each inhale dragged a little deeper, each exhale steadier, until eventually his lungs remembered how to work again. There was finally enough space to hold on to something other than panic.
“That’s it,” Jacob said, steady as stone. “Keep going. I’ve got you.”
Liam bent forward, forehead pressed to his knees, fingers trembling. “Why is this so fucking hard?” The whisper scraped out raw.
“Because you’re having a panic attack.” No judgment, just fact. “But you’re going to be okay.”
A broken sound wrenched out of him. “I can’t do this.”
“You can,” Jacob answered. “Let me help you.”
His shoulders shook. “I feel like I’m drowning. My thoughts won’t stop. They’re chewing me alive. I need—fuck—I need my head to shut up.”
Silence hummed on the line until Jacob drew a long breath. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped. “Do you need me to take over for a bit?”
“Please,” Liam begged.
“Just comfort,” Jacob asked, “or do you need more than that?”
Liam closed his eyes. He didn’t need comfort—he needed something to strip the panic from his bones, something sharper, and Jacob could do that.
“Say it.”
“I need more,” he whispered.
The faint exhale that followed carried through the receiver like heat against his skin. “Good. Then you do exactly what I say. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Lean back. Press your spine into the cushions. I want your body open. Grounded.”
