“Are you sure? Because from what Flint told me, you didn’t seem alright. Why were you running away from Rand? What did he do?”
Before I tried to cobble together an answer, a knock sounds at the door, followed by Rand’s voice. “Can I come in?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I’ll tell that mother fluffer to DUCK off if he’s done something to my sister,” Celia yells loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door.
“I got your back,lalelei,” Flint yells from outside, probably standing right next to Rand.
I grin. Dang it. Even in the middle of a crisis that they don’t know about, those two are a team. I rub my sternum.
“It’s okay. You can let him in,” I nod toward the door.
Rand doesn’t wait for Celia. He bursts through the door. “I’m so sorry, puffin. I didn’t mean to freak out like that. You told me your darkest secret, and I reacted like an idiot.”
“Fuck. Me.” I hide my face in my hands.
“Darkest secret?” Celia raises her voice.
“Oh, sorry,” Rand’s voice softens. “Can I speak to Carolina alone, please?”
I drop my hands. Celia raises an eyebrow. I nod that it’s okay.
“We’ll be right outside the lab. Leave this door open, Kestrel,” Flint’s eyes narrow at Rand.
I almost laugh because Flint is as overprotective as Luke.
When they both leave the room and the lab, Rand sits on a chair near the couch. “I’m sorry, Carolina.”
I wave him off. “It’s my fault.”
“I don’t know the details about what happened, but I do know that wasn’t your fault.”
“No, not the situation in college. I know that wasn’t my fault. I’m talking about the panic attack back there. I should have been upfront with you about my anxiety,” I stare at him. He doesn’t seem surprised.
“I noticed the meds. I figured it was something like that, and you’d tell me when you were ready,” Rand shrugs.
For the second time today, I feel relief. It felt good to share that with someone. Someone other than a licensed clinical therapist that you pay to listen.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Rand scoots to the edge of his seat.
“I do.”
Rand waits. I place my feet on the floor and pat the couch next to me. “I think it might be easier if you’re sitting next to me.”
I don’t have to ask him twice. He’s on the couch in a split-second.
I take a deep breath. “I met Dash in high school. He was the golden boy. That beautiful boy next door that everyone wanted to date - girls and boys alike. But he chose me. He wanted to be with me and got jealous of other boys even talking to me. I was young and thought that was true love. Like a soap opera. But that cute jealousy turned violent. He’d beat up guys for even looking my direction, even if they weren’t looking at me.”
I pause. Rand hands me a bottle of water. I take a sip and continue.
“Then, one day, one of my teammate’s brothers drove us home from practice. Dash was waiting for me at home and caused a huge scene with the brother - who is gay, mind you. Dash wouldn’t listen to reason, grabbed my bat, and clubbed the boy right in the knee. The boy needed pins to put his leg back together. I wanted to call the police, but Dash threatened to kill the boy and me if we did. So, the brother refused to press charges.”
“Fuck,” Rand runs his hands through his hair.
“After that, I broke up with Dash. He kept trying to get back together with me, but I refused. About a year later, I dated Nate until he ghosted me. And then the horrible accident, which as we know now, may not be an accident.
“I didn’t date anymore in high school. I wanted to put the whole thing behind me and secure my scholarship to FSU, which I did. I went off to college. I was playing for a division one team, and all was well. But I started getting the sense someone was following me. I thought I was paranoid, being in a new town, being around all new people.
