“That’s it,” He praises, “Now out for eight. One. Two…”
I listen to his voice, grasping onto it as if it’s a rope, and it’s dragging me from the darkness inside my own head.
“Again,” Dean orders, and I obey.
We repeat the process three more times before I’m able to break free of the panic attack. Collapsing down onto the couch, I catch my face in my hands to hide it as I fight back the hot swell of tears burning in my eyes.
I listen to Dean as he moves around the room, but I don’t dare look. I’m too afraid of what I might find staring back at me. I didn’t want him to see that, I don’t want anyone to ever see that. The vulnerability of it makes me feel unsafe, like I’m back in time fighting for my life. I never realized I was afraid of death until it was staring me in the face.
His steps draw closer before the toe of his shoe bumps against mine, and his clothes rustle. Gently, his fingers wrap around my wrists, and he tugs, asking me silently to stop hiding. I shake my head.
“Look at me, Sloane,” His voice is soft, gentle even.
“Am I fired?” I ask against the palms of my hands.
“What?” He tugs again, “No.”
Slowly, I pull my hands away and meet his dark stare. He doesn’t have his glasses on now, and for a second, I get lost in the onyx depths of his eyes, so dark they look black.
“Are you okay?” He asks, fingers flexing where they hold me.
“I think so,” I swallow roughly.
“Does that happen often?” He presses.
“Not usually,” I lie, “I’m just tired.”
He nods, but I see the distrust in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I panicked,” I continue, “I didn’t realize I’d slept for so long, and then I realized Lily wasn’t with me and you were there, and it was dark.” My words all tumble together as I try to explain myself.
“I came up about an hour ago,” He tells me. “You didn’t wake, and I took Lily because I didn’t want her to wake you.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, “Stay here, let me get you something to drink.”
But it’s after he’s gone that I realize what he just said. He’s been up from the basement for an hour. I didn’t hear him, not a single thing, when I’m usually a light sleeper and the slightest knock wakes me. But he was able to come in, able to take his daughter, and I just what? Stayed asleep? Didn’t even stir!?
When Dean returns with a glass of water, I make a point to get up, taking it from him but don’t drink.
“I should go,” I swallow thickly, “Thank you.”
“You need to eat,” He grumbles with a frown.
“I’m good, really,” I nod a little manically, “All fine now.”
“Sloane.” My name is a quick bite, stiffening my spine and making me pause where I’ve already started to make my way out of the room. “No need to run.”
“I’m not running.”
He chuckles, the sound sending a tingle down my spine that warms me through. “Sit down.”
“You’re awfully bossy,” I turn a glare to him over my shoulder.
“I get what I want,” He replies easily.
“What do you want?” I ask him.
