Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(141)

"You can't let her control you. Emma, you're stronger than this. You just have to believe it." He handed me a glass of water and sat next to me. "Do you know what happened that night? Or did you block that out too?"

"I died," I answered bluntly. "So, I have no idea what happened."

I felt the warmth of his hand encapsulate mine. The strength of it wrapped around my thin hand comforted me, but it also made my heart stammer. I eased it away to hold the glass with two hands. He pretended not to notice.

"Emma," he beckoned, making me look at him as I sipped the water. "Do you want to sleep better?"

I scrunched my eyes warily. "What do you have in mind?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Are you going to try to cure me again?" I questioned skeptically.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I think this might work, or at least help you. Will you let me?"

I paused a moment in deliberation. Jonathan's eyes were big and pleading, begging for me to trust him. I sighed in defeat and threatened, "If it doesn't work, I swear I will keep you up every night I can't sleep."

"I can handle that," he grinned in triumph. "Get your jacket."

"What?" I questioned in alarm. "We're leaving?"

"Did you think I was going to try to hypnotize you or something?" he chuckled.

I sighed in resignation and slipped my shoes on as he tossed me my jacket.



"So how's your triathlon training going?" I asked, cutting through the tense silence that had encapsulated us upon entering the truck.

"Really?" Jonathan laughed in disbelief.

"Well, I need to talk about something," I defended with a groan. "From the looks of it, we're heading back to Weslyn. And if we're going where I think we're going, then we'd better start talking before I make you turn the truck around."



       
         
       
        

"Training's going great," Jonathan burst out. "I haven't been cycling lately because the weather's sucked, but so far―"

"Okay, that's not helping," I interrupted, glancing over at him apologetically. "Sorry, I do want to hear about it, but I'm about ready to have a heart attack, or anxiety attack, or something."

"Breathe, Emma," he urged. "Slow, deep breaths. Just breathe."

I tried to remember how. My heart continued to convulse, and breathing was becoming more challenging.

"Wait." It suddenly struck me. "How do you know where to go?"

I thought I heard him laugh. "It's not hard to find anything in Weslyn. All you have to do is ask, and people talk. Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to you," he assured me. "I promise."

I buried my face in my hands, as the world spun out of control. I couldn't watch as we turned down each road. The closer we got, the more I had to fight the urge to jump out of the truck.

"Come on, Emma." I was too wrapped up in my anxiety to realize we'd stopped.

"I can't," I whimpered, unable to unshield my face.

"Yes you can," he consoled. "I'm here. Nothing's going to happen."

My hands shook when I lowered them. I kept my eyes closed and tried to calm the panic that was overtaking me. "I don't think I can get out."

His door opened and closed behind him. I stayed within the dark cab, paralyzed. My door opened, and his warm hand wrapped around mine. "You can do this."

I opened my eyes and looked into his. "Come on, Emma." I concentrated on his face. It was so sure and confident. I held tight to his hand as if it were a lifeline. I suddenly felt so small.

"Just look at me," he encouraged, as I stepped down from the truck. "Keep looking at me."

I nodded, unable to find my voice. I continued to focus on him, his eyes assuring me with every step.

"Okay, close your eyes," he advised, "I'm going to turn you toward it." My knees buckled, but he kept me upright with his hands gripping my shoulders.

"Why are we doing this?" I whispered, feeling the warmth of the tears on my cheeks.

"Because I can sleep," Jonathan answered softly in my ear, still holding me upright.

"What?" His words distracted me from my anxiety, and I tilted my head toward him. "What did you say?"

"I don't know if it was facing it, or sharing it with you, but I've been sleeping through the night. And I want you to be able to, too." He gently ran his thumb along my cheek to wipe away the tears. "Go ahead and look."

I reluctantly moved my eyes from his face to the house in front of me. It felt like there was a stone in my chest. I leaned against him.