We get to the hall and I start to panic. There are a lot of people around. The further we get down the hallway, the faster my breathing gets. It's now coming out in short pants.
I reach back for Xan's hand where he's holding the handle to push my wheelchair. I grope frantically for it.
"Tera? What's wrong?"
I struggle for breath. "People. Too many people. I can't." Tears fall and Xan doubles back and into my room. He closes the door, sits in one of the chairs, and pulls me into his lap.
He rocks me back and forth slowly, soothing me with nonsensical words.
"Shh. It's okay. It's okay. You're safe now."
"It's not okay, Xan. How am I going to get home? I can't get on a plane with all those people. There's no way. Absolutely no way," I tell him loudly.
"Okay. Let me see what kind of magic I can work." He doesn't move me, he just grabs his phone from his pocket and starts making calls, all the while running his hands over my arms, my back, my hair. I burrow into him as far as I can go.
How am I going to be able to live like this?
* * *
Valium, a private car, and a private plane. That's the magic Xan worked two weeks ago. Then we had to do it all over again when I moved into my condo in New York City. Dante DiMora offered me a contract and I accepted, only I'd be here in NYC instead of LA. I'm not sure I can ever go back to LA.
Dr. Mac took a leave for the next two weeks to make sure I'm okay and to help me work out how to get food and things I need without having to leave the comfort of my own space.
I can't go out there. So much bad is out there. People. No one cares anymore. Not about anyone but themselves. Then there are the people like the ones who hurt me. My skin goes cold. The ones with no conscience. The ones who think hurting someone is fun. The ones who laugh even as you cry.
"You have to go back, Xander. Your eight weeks are up," I argue with him—again.
"How am I supposed to leave you? You don't just need me, I need you, too, Tera. I need to know you're okay. I want to be here for anything you need," he implores.
I shake my head. "You have a contract."
"Fuck," he growls.
"I'm staying."
I turn to Linc and he stands there, arms folded over his chest, a sure sign his mind is made up.
"Youhave a contract as well," I remind him.
He shakes his head. "Not anymore. I've been working on this for a while and it's now settled. I'm not doing anything on that stage that they can't do without. Keyboards aren't necessary and the soundboards anyone can do. The network and management all agree."
I sigh. "I don't want you to do this, Lincoln. This is your chance at something huge."
He shrugs. "I can take it or leave it. If I can say that, it's probably best if I leave it."
I can't argue with him on that. He's right.
"I'll stay here and help you, T. Don't tell me you don't need it. You do. At least for a while. I'll be your errand boy, your assistant, anything you need."
"Linc," I whisper. My heart is both filled with joy and pain at his decision. "It hurts me that you're giving up so much for me. I can manage. Dad is going to be here for two weeks. By then I'll have a plan in place."
He shakes his head. "Done deal, sister. I'm staying." He turns to Xan. "They can do without me but not without you. You need to go back and finish this out."
Xan swears a blue streak as he paces back and forth, his hands linked behind his neck.
"Xan," Linc says.
Xander looks over.
