“I know you’re worried but he can’t hurt me,” it’s as if he is reading my mind. I shiver, shocked over his perception. My fingers start to twitch again. “He’s being booked right now. Edwards knows something is off about him and is looking into it.”
I hear the words but I don’t trust them. They can look all they want. They won’t find anything. Erik is good at hiding his tracks. Too good. He has too many connections, too many willing to play his game. Maybe this was a ruse too. A game Erik convinced this man to play and I was just a pawn.
“Alice, let me help you.”
Panic slowly pours into my body, filling every nook and cranny.
Crap! Not right now, please not right now!
A panic attack. A new development during my time running. I wasn’t too familiar with them but I’ve been having them since my second escape. They were lessening as time passed but when they hit, they hit hard and drained me for days. It was the last thing I needed, another reason to stay.
*****
Hudson
I can see the panic mounting her body. She’s going to have a full blown attack if she doesn’t calm herself soon.
She’s afraid. Deeply afraid.
“Take a deep breath and slowly release it,” I coax softly. I desperately want to scoop her up and hold her close but I know it would only frighten her more. I’m as close as she is going to allow me for the time being. Every inch given had been her choice.
She nods but instead her breathing becomes laborious.
Shit, fuck!
“Breath precious, slow your breathing down,” I hated seeing her tiny frame struggle against the panic but I’d be damned if I allowed her to surrender to it.
I could see how tiny she was even as her sweater drowned her in its shapeless folds. It was that obvious. She doesn’t want me to see her though because she clutches the ratty gray sweater around her as if her life depended on it. The hood of her sweater hid her face from me most of the time, especially when her gaze rests on the flooring.
I resist the urge to yank it off her head.
“Look at me,” my voice a hoarse whisper. She lifts her head. “I need to see your face. Would it be alright if I pushed your hoodie back? You don’t have to hide from me.”
She nods and takes a deep breath. Her body is shaking uncontrollably. The attack is mounting quickly and I need to be face to face with her when it happens. I have plenty experience with panic attacks, it happens when you learn to deal with the demons I live with everyday.
I reach towards her, slowly, careful not to move too fast. My hands touch the rough gray fabric and I pull it back gasping at the sight of her. Her chocolate brown eyes are surrounded by huge dark circles. Her face is gaunt and sunken it. She’s at least twenty pounds underweight. Her skin is tight and ashen from malnutrition. I’m surprised she able to hold herself up. I can only imagine what is hidden under the layers of her clothing.
She shifts back and reaches for her hood. My reaction has embarrassed her. I lift a hand to stop her and our hands touch, electricity shoots up my arm. I pull back suddenly, like she’s burned me, and stare down at the floor. I’ve never felt anything like it before.
I summon the courage to seek out her face, expecting to see panic and worry. There isn’t any. She’s taken aback the same as I.
“I’m sorry,” I stutter. My mouth feels numb, like I can’t form words. She stares back at me with confusion in her eyes. Her nostrils flare as her breathing deepens. The panic no longer threatening to take control of her body but she hasn’t realized it yet. “I didn’t mean to touch you.”
She reaches up quicker this time and pulls the hood back over her head. Fuck!
“Please, don’t hide yourself from me,” I hardly recognize my voice when I speak. I don’t want her to feel embarrassed or ashamed but I’m worried. I can’t stop the honesty that spills from me. “How long has it been since you’ve had a decent meal?”
She looks down to the floor and shrugs. She’s lying. I know she is. I would bet my last dollar she knew when, what and where it was. I pick up the bag next to me and set it down in front of her.
“If you don’t like it, I can get you something else,” I open the bag and take out a bottle of water, a bag of chips and a small sandwich. Setting it all down in front of her, I wait.
It doesn’t take her but half a second before she picks up the water, twists the cap off and guzzles every last drop. She eyes the sandwich carefully, aware of any movement my body makes. She wants the sandwich but she didn’t trust it was hers. Son of a bitch must have starved her during his sick little games.
“It’s yours. Eat,” I whisper softly. Her eyes lift to my face again and I swallow hard. They’re filled with unshed tears. She licks her lips and reaches for the sandwich, carefully lifting it to her lips, she takes a small bite. She sighs breathily as she chews her food but her eyes never leave my face. I smile at her, trying to reassure her and grateful she was eating.