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Chapter One
I’m lyingon the dirty floor in the storeroom of The Neighborhood Bar.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
The squeezing in my chest is killing me and feels like someone keeps tightening the imaginary corset around my body. I am not sure how long I have been lying on the floor in here, but as I look around, I note that it could use a thorough cleaning.
I sit up and take a few breaths, then stand.
Okay, I can do this. Maybe it was a mini-panic attack. Maybe I have some indigestion, and maybe, it’s the root of why I want to throw up. Oh shit, there’s the squeezing again.
I resume my place on the floor, as the position of lying down feels best, and continue with the deep breaths.
One hand is clutching the space below my breasts, and the other is under my lower back. I feel like I’m holding my insides in, but it feels as if it lessens the pain instead as I apply pressure.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
Ow. Ow. Ow. This is not a fun feeling.
The storeroom door swings open, I turn my head, and through my blurry vision, I see a pair of black sneakers rushing to me. Hands reach out hesitantly, and then I meet the worried gaze of Miles, the brother of the owner of the bar.
“Fuck, Rhi. What the hell are you doing here on the floor? Are you okay? You’re crying. You’re not okay,” he goes on to ramble.
“Tightness,” I choke out around the flood of emotions that I wasn’t aware I was dealing with.
“Can you sit up?” he asks.
“I can, but I would prefer to lay down,” I hiccup.
He stands and pulls his phone from his back pocket. I don’t see what he’s doing, but he calls for Noah in the main part of the bar.
“Miles, if this is another one of your random punching games- shit!” Noah’s feet rush to my side, and he is leaning down beside me a second later. He brushes away the hair from my forehead and tries, yet fails miserably, to give me a smile. I can see the fright in his eyes, and I know that this isn’t just a silly random cramp.
Miles leans down beside Noah.
“It’s too far of a drive for ambulance or car, so you will be taking a first class flight. We’ll be right behind and will be at the hospital as soon as we can.”
“No. You guys don’t need to come,” I breathe out.
“Bullshit. We’re family. It’s not like your mom is sober enough to get in a car and come. We’ll call her and offer her a ride though,” Noah replies calmly.
“Medics!” I hear from the front of the bar.
Miles stands up and rushes out of the room to meet them. I hear muffled voices then several pounding feet rushing towards me.
“Hello, I’m Garrett, and this is Mitch. We’re here to take care of you. What’s your name?” he asks me.
“Rhiannon Jones.”
“Rhiannon, how old are you?” Garrett asks, pulling out stuff from his bag.
“I’m twenty-eight,” I reply.
“Ma’am, can you tell us what’s going on and where it’s hurting?” Mitch, the other paramedic, asks while maneuvering around the room with a backboard.
“It feels like I’m wearing a corset that’s too small for me, and someone is pulling on the bindings to make it even tighter,” I say in between breaths.
