Page 155 of Breathe Like Hell

Terror was encroaching on all my thoughts. I can’t do this.

A tiny sip of air entered my lungs.

I wished Micah was here. I just wanted him to hold me, to fix me.

But I couldn’t reach for my phone, couldn’t text him, couldn’t do anything except lay here like a corpse, like my panic was so huge that my entire body had completely shut down, all unconscious processes no longer functioning. It’d swallowed me whole, and it was going to kill me now. I would suffocate to death, but not underwater like I thought, not at Mason’s hands.

At Anthony’s hands.

His hands were all over me, even now, even here in this trailer he’d never been in.

It didn’t matter where I went, because he was always here inside of me. Didn’t matter how far or how fast or how hard I ran, because I would never make it deep enough into the forest to be safe from him. He could always find me.

Always.

He was in my blood.

I would be tied to him forever. I couldn’t change my DNA.

I choked on an inhale, then tried to launch myself upward. My vision was going dark as I forced myself into the hallway where I’d dropped my phone. With my stiff fingers, I fumbled to try and call Micah. The dull drone of my phone ringing was muffled in my ears.

“Dakota?”

The sound of his voice broke something inside of me, forcing me out of this suffocation, right back into hyperventilation. My head hurt like someone had dropped a weight on my skull, the pain pulsing in my forehead.

“Help me,” I squeaked out, tears dripping all over my phone screen, forming little rainbows around their edges.

“Hold tight. I’m coming.” I could hear the sounds of him rushing out of his house and I slumped down onto the carpet, right next to the spot where I’d vomited weeks ago. Micah had to save me then, too. I’m so fucking pathetic.

I tried to push the button to end the call but the screen was wet and my fingers weren’t working and I was crying harder now but⁠—

“Just hang on. Alright? I’ll be there so fast. Just wait for me.”

Wait for me.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

I tucked my legs up to my chest as I laid on my side, sobbing into the thin carpet. The shitty carpet in my shitty hallway in my shitty trailer. My shitty fucking life.

My stupid, pointless, embarrassing life.

I wasn’t sure why I’d ever thought I could make it out of this hell I’d been born into. I couldn’t. Only Anthony got to do that. Not me. I thought I was doing well because I had my own place, I was in college, I was working, but that wasn’t the whole truth.

I lived in a mobile home I could only afford because I didn’t have to fucking pay for anything other than the lot fee and utilities. I would’ve failed all my classes had Micah not taken pity on me. I was working at the most run-down, poorly-rated gas station in all of existence. That thought only made me cry harder, though, because Eric didn’t deserve my judgment. The gas station was fine.

The sound of a key turning in the lock of my front door some minutes later made me roll over. I didn’t know when Micah got a key, but that didn’t matter. I was grateful for it.

He stepped inside, then instantly knelt and pulled me into his arms, tucking my head against his chest without asking a single question. My whole body was shaking and weak as I sobbed, choking on air, my chest freezing every time I tried to inhale.

“I’m here,” Micah murmured with his lips pressed to the top of my head.

“Fix it, please,” I cried. I needed him to use his aspect again, to steal all the bad emotions that overwhelmed me from my brain like he’d done when I ran from Mason’s apartment. “Take it away.”

“I can’t take this from you.”

I blinked, some terrible new emotion swelling inside of me: a tidal wave of anger.

“What?! You can’t or you won’t?!” I pushed away from him, feeling even more exposed and humiliated than before. Why would he deny me now, when I needed him so badly?