A moment later, Alex kneels in front of me as I slump into one of the chairs in the office. His hands hold mine, and he’s talking again, asking me if I’m okay. I lean forward, trying to catch my breath, but my chest hurts and my shoulder throbs, and no matter how slowly I breathe, I can’t seem to fill my lungs.
“I... can’t... breathe...” I force out, and I’m suddenly dizzy and lightheaded. I start to fall forward, unable to hold myself up. He catches me with a hand on my chest.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. You’re okay. Breathe with me, okay? Breathe in . . . there you go, and out . . . Good. Again. In . . . and out . . .”
He talks me through each breath for what seems like several long minutes, until I’m finally feeling a bit more steady, like I’m not actually going to pass out.
“Thank you,” I say. My voice is still shaking, even though my heart is beating at much closer to normal speed. “Thank you. God,I-I thought I was going to die. Th-that was...”
“It was awful. And scary,” Alex finishes for me when my words fail. I nod and lift my eyes to meet his, fighting against nausea and a growing headache. His expression is tight with concern. “Areyou okay?”
“I-I... don’t know.” I drop my eyes to where our hands are clasped together in my lap. “I mean... my shoulder’s pretty fucked up.”
Alex’s frown deepens, and he lets go of my left hand and grazes his fingers lightly up my forearm, stopping below my elbow. “I’m so sorry. I—”
“No,” I cut in, shaking my head. “Don’t.” I bite my lower lip and hold Alex’s gaze. His whole expression softens, and he’s about to say something when there’s a light knock on the door.
“Nico, the police are here.” I recognize Caitlin’s voice, and I try to look up at her, which is a bad idea. The room seems to tilt sideways, and I groan and close my eyes. Alex’s hand finds my chest again, steadying me. “Is he okay?” Caitlin asks quietly.
“He was having trouble breathing, and his shoulder isn’t... good,” Alex answers from where he still kneels in front of me.
Two sets of heavy footsteps enter the room, and even though I know I’m safe and Patrick’s not here, I can’t stop the tension from growing in my shoulders as I screw my eyes shut tighter and curl in on myself.
“Alex—” My voice comes out as a rough whisper, like I really didn’t have the air in my lungs for even the one pitiful word. I grab his hand with my good one, the sudden movement sending a fresh jolt of pain through my arm and into my chest.
“I’m here, Nico. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, and when I manage to open my eyes partway, I see him, his soft smile as reassuring as it always is. He nods slightly, squeezes my hand again, and then turns to addresswhoever’s standing in the doorway. “He’s got severe social anxiety, and he was just attacked,” Alex explains. “Please just, um, move slowly when you come in.”
“Of course. Alex, right? And Nico?” The woman’s voice sounds familiar, but I can’t remember where I’ve heard it before.
“Yes, ma’am,” Alex answers.
“I’m Officer Morris, and my partner here is Officer Pulman. Can either of you tell us what happened?”
I know there’s no way I can talk about it right now, so I’m relieved when Alex nods.
“Yeah, sure, um...” He holds my hands tighter as he explains to the police officers everything that just happened. He’s thorough, and he goes into much more detail than I’d have been able to. Apparently, Patrickwasscreaming at me that he lost his job and that my mom kicked him out and that I was the reason for both. He said more than that, too, words Alex has a hard time repeating. “He said, um, he said he should have ‘beaten the shit out of Nico when he had the chance.’” Alex pauses. “And he... he looked like he meant it.”
Officer Morris nods and turns to her partner. “It’s consistent with Anderson’s statement last night.” She turns back to us.
My head’s pounding now, and my shoulder throbs, but I manage to look up at her and listen as she explains how one of Patrick’s coworkers came in to the police station the night before and filed a report alleging that Patrick had been bragging while on the job about “scaring the shit out of his ex’s son” and “wanting to do a fuck of a lot more than just scare him.” The report was serious enough that the police followed up on it this morning. They went out to the construction site where Patrick worked and questioned him and his other coworkers.
“It wasn’t pretty,” Officer Morris admits. “His boss was pissed and let Patrickgo on the spot.”
It’s so much to take in. I almost can’t breathe again. I grip Alex’s hands tighter and take several short, shallow breaths, and he lets his thumbs rub soothingly back and forth along my knuckles.
One of the officers steps closer. “Nico, I know this is difficult, but I need you to answer a few questions, too, just so we can be sure to have the whole story. Okay?”
I look up, and I finally remember where I recognize her voice from. She was one of the officers who responded to the 9-1-1 call my mom made four years ago, when that asshole broke my nose. I close my eyes again as the discomfort in my chest grows.
“Y-yeah, okay,” I mumble, and I lean forward to be closer to Alex, ignoring the pain radiating from my shoulder.
“Something happened earlier this week?” the officer asks.
I suck in a sharp breath and nod. “Yes. Um, well, last week actually. L-last Friday.”
“Tell me what happened, Nico.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
