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“I … I ...” I couldn’t breathe, talk, or say a word. My breathing became erratic as I hyperventilated.
“Alexia, can you hear me? If you can hear me, don’t put the phone down. Keep it up to your ear. I can hear you breathing. Stay with me and I’ll talk you through this, but please tell me you’re okay. Or tell me where you are. I can come to you. Can you at least text me?”
I panted rapidly and my face began to tingle. Someone tapped on my window and my first thought was that Fred had followed me. When I looked up, I saw a woman. I put my shaking hand on the button to lower the window and just handed her my phone.
I kept trying to gulp in air, but it only made things worse. She spoke to Pearce and ran inside the mini-market. Minutes later she came back holding a paper sack in her hand.
“Put this over your mouth and take some deep breaths. You’re hyperventilating and this will help.”
I did as she instructed but my panic was so far gone, I didn’t think it was helping.
“It’s okay”—she patted my back—“just keep breathing. This happens to me when I fly. It takes a little while before it starts to work.”
She started talking to Pearce again and then looked at me and said, “Your boyfriend should be here any minute. Just keep taking deep breaths.”
I wanted to scream that it wasn’t working because everything was turning gray, and my face was going numb. Realistically, I knew I couldn’t die from this, but at that point, it was like I was hanging on the precipice of death.
Wheels screeched and suddenly my door flew open. There he stood in the flesh, all six feet two inches of him. Then he squatted next to me and said, “Breathe, babe. Slow, deep breaths. Follow me. Inhale to the count of four, three, two, one. Hold it for a count of four, three, two, one. Exhale, four, three, two, one. Let’s do it again.”
He rubbed my arms and cradled my face. Eventually things evened out. He must’ve seen the fright in my eyes because he pulled the bag out of my hands and unbuckled me from my seat. The next thing I knew I was sitting in his lap, crying and shaking.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you now.”
I heard his voice talking to the woman who saved me, thanking her profusely. Then his attention was focused on me again. He ran his hand through my hair, pushing it off my face. The tears ultimately ebbed, leaving me feeling like a limp noodle in his lap.
“Christ, you know how to give a man a fucking heart attack. What happened?”
Where to begin with this one? My hand massaged my arm where that a-hole had grabbed me and I noticed that bruises were already forming. He noticed it too.
He trailed his fingers over the light purple marks. “What’s this? What happened? Please tell me because keeping me in the dark is not working very well for me.”
I told him the whole sordid tale. “This is why I didn’t want to get involved with you. I knew somehow that my past would catch up with me. I’m no better than a sleazy whore.”
“Stop it, Alexia. Right now. I won’t have you belittle yourself like that. You did things that were unacceptable to you. You made mistakes. Would you do those things now?”
“No!”
“Then stop comparing yourself to a whore. You’re not a whore and I won’t stand for you calling yourself that.”
“Okay,” I murmured as I hung my head.
“Look at me.”
I did as he asked.
“This changes nothing between us. I’m here and I love you more than anything. I want to beat the bastard who broke you down just now. As I said last night, I’m not going anywhere, and I mean it. Now kiss me before I go crazy here with you on my lap.”
I kissed him, lightly.
“Is that all you got for me? You almost gave me a fucking MI!”
“What’s an MI?”
He let out a snort. “A myocardial infarction. The medical term for a heart attack. I almost crashed the 911 getting here.”
“The 911. You called 911?”
“No … my car … the Porsche.”
