She stumbled to his side and grabbed his arm. “Stop, please. He’ll die, and you’ll?—”
He couldn’t ruin his life for her. It wasn’t worth it.Shewasn’t worth it. Her stomach heaved. She spun toward her apartment, ripped open the door, and raced inside to the kitchen sink, where she heaved all the vile disgust inside her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The terrified look on Vanessa’s face was gut-wrenching, but the true, genuine fear that had torn through him when he saw her on the floor with that asshole looming over her was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. The closest he’d come was the night he’d gone to prison for his brother.
Scrubbing his hand over his head, he knocked softly on Vanessa’s door and waited. Robertson was handled, and now all Jordan wanted was to see her. God, heneededto see her.
When there was no answer, he knocked again, louder this time, and called her name. When he turned the knob, the door opened.
“Vanessa,” he called again, but softer, his tone low. He crossed the living room and saw it was empty, then headed down the hallway toward her bedroom, where he tapped the door lightly before opening it. She wasn’t in there either. When he found the bathroom and second bedroom empty as well, his dread twisted to something sharper.
He backtracked to the living room and called her nameagain. This time loud enough to be heard throughout the whole apartment.
When he reached the long table beside the galley kitchen, he spotted her painted red toes peeking out from behind the kitchen doorway.
He rushed to where she huddled on the floor—back pressed to the cabinet, legs drawn up, face hidden against her knees—and crouched in front of her.
Tiny tremors wracked her body, her shoulders shaking, her back rising and falling in shallow pants. Her hair fell over her body, like a dark, silken shroud.
Gently, he moved the curtain of her hair to the side. The instant his fingers brushed her skin, she stiffened. The response stung like a physical blow.
This was his fault. He should’ve never left her.
“Vanessa.”
She lifted her head, eyes wide and glassy, nearly black. Her face was pale apart from the angry red marks where the skin had pressed against her knees. Her lips parted as she struggled to catch her breath, each inhale coming in short, frantic gasps.
He recognized the signs of a panic attack immediately and shifted his body so that his legs straddled her body, drawing her closer. His hands moved reverently over her face, pushing her hair aside, his thumbs grazing her cheekbones, over and over, in an attempt to ground her.
“I need you to look at me, princess. Right at my eyes.” He waited until her wild gaze finally locked onto his before he took one of her hands. “I want you to try to match my breathing, okay?” He inhaled deeply to demonstrate.
Vanessa continued her ragged breathing.
Jordan did it again, one slow, deliberate breath through his nose and out his mouth. When she didn’t follow, heplaced her hand on his chest, drawing her closer, and did it again. One long and steady inhale.
And she copied him this time, with a single shuddering breath. But the storm in her stare didn’t subside.
“Keep looking at me.” He tried to keep his tone reassuring, tried to temper the chaos of his own emotions so she wouldn’t see them.
She nodded as she pressed her fingertips to his pec, inhaling with him again. After two more jagged, uneven breaths, he curled her hand so her index finger pointed to his heart. On the next inhale, he guided her finger down his torso and counted the breath.
“One…two…three…four.” He kept the movement slow and steady. “Now hold your breath for four,” he told her, and dragged her finger across his lower stomach as he counted. “Release.” He drew her finger back up his chest and counted again. “And inhale,” he whispered, guiding her finger back to the starting point, until they’d completed the full square of his torso. “Again.”
They repeated the motion three more times, inhaling, holding, exhaling and repeating until finally she completed the sequence without his help, drawing the map on his chest as she brought her breath back. Her vision started to clear, and color seeped back into her cheeks.
After a few more moments, Vanessa flattened her hand to his chest, pressing it to his heart.
“Okay?” He knew she wasn’t, not by a long shot, but he needed to see where she placed the needle on the scale.
She gave a small nod before scooting forward until she straddled him this time. Her legs locked around his hips, one hand still pressed firmly against his heart, her cheek resting against his shoulder. He held her tightly, so tightlythat he feared she might start suffocating again, but even so, he couldn’t bring himself to let go.
Tonight had been too close of a call.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he rasped as he smoothed her hair down her back, rubbing in gentle circles at the base.
Maybe she didn’t hear him, because all she said was, “You came.” She murmured the words against his shoulder, her face nuzzling closer to his body as if she sought comfort in his presence.
