His lips brushing my temple.
Laughter echoing through a kitchen.
Warmth.Heat.Want.
His body heavy over mine in the best ways.
But when I try to hold onto the images, they disappear like fog.Now, inside the cabin again, the walls feel too close.The air too thick.The quiet too loud.
Ledger walks ahead of me, scanning the room automatically, like he expects danger hidden inside the walls.Stunt is somewhere outside.Dodge is too.I know I’m safe.
I know the Kings of Anarchy brothers are all looking out for me.
But my heart hasn’t gotten the message.There is nothing about my emotions that feel safe.
I sit on the couch slowly and try to focus on breathing.
In.
Out.
Just like the therapists taught me after that panic episode in middle school.Why can I remember that but not what I shared with him?
And right now?The air won’t go in deep enough.
Ledger turns back to me, and his whole expression changes instantly.
“Kelly,” he says, voice dropping into something low and steady.“What’s going on?”
I can’t answer.I can barely breathe.
My fingers twist into the hem of my sweater, gripping it tight like it might anchor me.My vision starts to narrow at the edges, colors dimming, the world shrinking to a small, suffocating tunnel.
Ledger moves so fast I don’t even see him cross the room.He crouches in front of me, big hands braced on his thighs, eyes locked on mine.“Hey.Sunshine.Look at me.”
I try, but everything is shaking.My breath comes in sharp, uneven pulls.
He doesn’t hesitate, not even a second.He reaches out and covers my hands under the hem of my sweater with his without touching my skin directly, just letting the warmth of his palms ground me through the fabric.
“You’re safe,” he murmurs.“Right here.Nothing’s gonna touch you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.“I can’t.I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You had a hell of a day,” he explains.“And your brain’s still tryin’ to catch up.Slow it down, Kelly.I’ve got you.”
I take a shaky inhale.
“That’s it,” he encourages.“Again.With me.”
He breathes with me slow, deep, steady.Like he’s syncing himself to pull my body back into rhythm.I cling to the sound of his voice.The feel of his presence.The warmth radiating from him.
Another breath.Another shaky inhale.
Slowly, painfully slowly, my vision expands again.The world stops tilting.The suffocating pressure in my chest loosens by degrees.
I open my eyes.
He’s still there.
