I flip it open and read the two words inside: ‘is you.’ I realize too late there’s something inside, multiple somethings, that fallto the ground and scatter, leaving me looking down at them in shocked horror.
Pictures.
So many pictures, and not just of me but all of us.
There are pictures of our time in Italy, of when I went to the Lawson building to yell at Nathan about my birth control, us out trick-or-treating, cutting down the tree, and a few of us in lesspublic settings.
I pick up one after another, unable to think past the fact that someone is watching us, them, Addy. My breathing is labored, the air too thick, but I can’t focus enough to do anything about it as I continue to sift through the pictures, and there are dozens of them.
Red Xs cover each of the guys, manic scribbles in red, and while there are no words, the meaning seems pretty clear to me.
“Katherine!” Fingers grip my biceps and yank me to my feet and away from the pictures, but still, they're all I see. I stumble as I’m dragged away, moved like a rag doll and pushed into one of the theater recliners.
Vince’s face fills my vision. He’s so close that I can’t see past him, and despite the panic that was all but choking me, something about him is comforting, even if just a little bit.
“Kat, I need you to breathe with me.” I hear the words he’s saying, see his lips move, but I can’t seem to make them make sense.
“Kat.” His voice is hard and demanding, and I want to do what he says, but I can’t seem to figure out how, and with each passing second, I feel it only gets harder.
My head feels light and heavy all at once, and my vision swims.
I’m going to pass out.
His hand grips the back of my neck, and he pulls me toward him until our foreheads meet, sharing the same air, even though I take in so very little of it.
Vince’s fingers circle my wrist, and he moves my hand to rest against his chest, pressing his palm to the back of my hand.
“Feel my heart, Kat, feel the rise and fall of my chest. I’m here with you; he’s not. He will never be anywhere near you again, I promise.” I appreciate that he doesn’t use his name, but he doesn’t have to; we both know exactly who did this.
“Let's breathe, okay? I want you to breathe with me. Can you do that?”
It takes me a second, but he’s patient as he watches me as if he knows I need a moment to get it together. Eventually, after what feels like far too long, I manage to give him a nod, and I’m rewarded with a beautiful, rare smile.
“We’re going to breathe in for five, hold for three, and then breathe out for five, okay?” He doesn’t ask if it’s something I can do, and honestly, I didn’t expect him to—that’s not really Vince’s style.
Again, I nod, and this time he gets right to it.
It takes four cycles of breathing before I start to feel myself calm, and after seven, my head begins to feel less foggy.
“That’s my girl,” he says with so much affection it makes my stomach do a little flip, and my heart skip a beat.
So much for getting myself under control.
Vince releases my neck and slowly moves back, but he doesn’t go far.
“Where’s Des and Addy?” I ask, looking around the room and realizing it’s just the two of us now.
“We didn’t think it was a good idea for her to see you like that,” he says, and he’s probably right. I didn’t even consider that I would probably terrify her with my reaction.
“I’m sor—”
“Don’t you dare.” Vince’s voice is harsh, and I look up to find his eyes just as hard. “Don’t you dare apologize for what that piece of shit is doing. This is so far from your fault it’s noteven funny, Kat. We just didn’t want to scare her and knew you wouldn’t want her to see you like that, not to mention the pictures.”
He’s right, of course, but I still feel bad.
I look down at my hand in my lap, unsure what to do or say now, but Vince isn’t having it. He hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my head until our eyes meet. His thumb rubs over my cheek so gently, and I realize I’m crying.
“We’re going to handle him, Kat. He’s never going to get his hands on you again.” He looks so serious, and I know he means it. I want his words to be true; I don’t want to be the reason they're in danger.
