I couldn't hold myself upright anymore. My legs finally buckled, and I slid down to the floor. The drop was slow and awkward. My knees gave out until I was crouched low, and then I folded in on myself.
I leaned back against the sofa and pressed a hand over my mouth to keep the noise in. I didn't know if I was about tocry or scream or hyperventilate loud enough for the whole fucking building to hear.
I couldn't let that happen. If Marcus was outside...
My vision swam again. The hand over my mouth was making it worse. I couldn't get air in or get it out fast enough. Every breath just came tighter, shallower.
What if he was in the building? What if he'd been watching me from the street? What if the next sound I heard was the lock turning? My fingers clenched uselessly against the carpet. I couldn't breathe.
Then a knock. Short. Sharp. I flinched like a gun had gone off next to my ear.
"Ro, it's me."
Eli's voice cut through the noise in my head. Not Marcus.
I exhaled so fast my chest caved in. My body sank forward, and I nearly collapsed from the sheer force of it. Eli was here.
I dragged in a breath and forced myself to move. One hand pressed against the floor, then the other. I tried to stand, but my legs didn't want to cooperate. I had to move on all fours to make my way to the door. The carpet felt rough against my palms, and every inch forward felt like a mile. My muscles trembled with the effort and barely held me upright.
Eli called through the door again, sharper this time. "Ro? Rowan!"
I crawled the last few feet and somehow pulled myself up against the doorframe. My head swam as I stared at the locks.
The deadbolt wasn't latched. Neither was the chain.
Shit.
I didn't have time to spiral over that. I fumbled for the doorknob with shaking fingers, turned the lock, and pulled the door open just wide enough. Eli was already halfway throughthe motion of knocking again when it swung inward.
He caught the door with one hand and dropped to his knees when he saw me slumped against the door jamb. His hands found my face, gently but firmly guiding my gaze up to meet his. "Hey. Look at me, Ro. It's just me. No one else."
I couldn't hold his eyes. They were too calm, too focused.
His hands cupped my face more securely. "He's not here. You hear me? He's not here. It's just you and me."
My chest hitched again. My lungs just refused to work right. I barely had the energy to shake my head.
"I need you to breathe, okay? Slow, like this." He inhaled deep, audible, exaggerated so I could follow. Then he let it out in a long, steady breath. "Come on. In ... and out."
I forced a breath in. Then out. It caught halfway. It felt like my lungs were collapsing in on themselves, but I kept trying to match the way he did it. Counted each inhale against the rise of his shoulders, timed each exhale with the fall of his chest.
I leaned forward until our foreheads touched. I needed something solid to anchor to, and he was the only thing that felt real in that moment.
My fingers found the front of his jacket and curled into the fabric. I didn't even realise how tightly I was holding on until the muscles in my arm started to cramp. My hand was shaking so bad I was afraid I'd rip the damn thing, but Eli made no move to pull away.
"That's it. You're doing good, Ro. Stay with me."
The panic finally began to fade a little bit at a time until I could at last take a full breath without choking on it. The room stopped spinning. My chest ached, but at least I could breathe through it.
The exhaustion hit right behind it.
I let out a shaky breath and sagged a little more againsthim. His hands continued to gently hold my face, thumbs brushing slowly across my skin as if to smooth the panic away.
Then he leaned in to press a soft kiss to my forehead. "You're okay, Ro. I've got you."
I couldn't help but lean into him. My arms slid around his neck, unsteady and still shaky. I buried my face into his shoulder and held on as I tried to catch my breath.
He didn't move. He just stayed there and held me upright while the last of the panic finally bled out of my system.
