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“Shane?” Seth is standing there, stock-still, staring at me. What is he doing here?
Is this real?
Fucking hell, is this a flashback?
“Shane, breathe.” Seth takes a step toward me, stops. His hair is wet, like mine, topped with fresh snowflakes. “Breathe, man. It’s okay.”
Snowflakes. Snow. That’s real, right?
“They called me,” he says, slowly, patiently. “Peter Josh, the superintendent. Said you fell from a scaffold, but you’re okay. You were lucky, cuz. Didn’t break anything. I came to drive you home.”
This is real.
I nod, trying to find my voice. It won’t come.
“Come on.” Seth beckons but doesn’t come nearer. He knows the rules. “The car’s outside the gate. The snow has almost stopped.” His eyes narrow. “You sure you’re okay? Nothing broken or sprained?”
Any other man would assume that’s not the case, seeing as I’m standing on my own, but Seth knows better. Me and him, we’ve learned to keep going, pushing through the pain.
“I’m good,” I finally rasp, my voice a naked whisper. I want to thank him for coming to pick me up, like always, for always having my back—but I can’t find the words right now. “Let’s go.”
***
Nobody approaches us as we make our way to the car. I still have the blanket around my shoulders, but I’m reluctant to give it back. Reluctant to stop—and think, and remember, and freak out over my inability to control my mind, my perception, and the way the past is sinking its teeth into my life.
The fact that I’m fucking losing it and don’t know how to stop it.
I do a double take when we reach the car. Guess Seth kinda forgot to mention he had more people with him.
Shit.
As I open the door and slide into the back seat, I realize it’s Manon sitting in the passenger seat in front of me. She’s twisted around, looking back at me, her dark eyes round.
And beside me, I find Cassie.
My brain is shutting down again. I need time to ground myself, convince myself I’m okay, the images still flashing behind my eyelids belonging to the past. Need a moment to talk myself back from the ledge, to relax enough that the frantic rhythm of my heart slows.
Instead, I’m pinned by two pairs of eyes, and Manon is already reaching for me. I glare at her, then flinch when Cassie puts her hand on my shoulder, and goddammit, I’m outta here. I’m already reaching for the car handle to let myself out until I can breathe again, when Seth climbs behind the wheel and thumps his fist on it.
“Don’t touch him. Cassie, hands off. Manon, babe, don’t.” He grips Manon’s arm, tugs her back around so she faces forward, and Cassie lets go of me as if burned.
Yeah. Welcome to the freak show.
Embarrassment will soon hit, I know, and anger. Heat is already making a spirited attempt to climb my throat and warm my face, but I’m still too cold and numb with misery and remembered fear. My teeth are chattering in my mouth. The urge to run is still there, an itch under my skin, panic ready to leap from under the surface.
My senses are full of sour sweat and sweet cinnamon smell.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I fight the panic off as best I can while Seth puts the car in reverse and pulls out of the parking lot, then enters Saturday afternoon traffic. Questions are crowding my thoughts, and fuck, I really wish it was just me and Seth, but I need to know.
“What happened?” I ask, not looking at him, not looking at anyone, keeping my gaze on the snow falling outside.
“You don’t know what happened?” Cassie’s voice is high-pitched with incredulity, or annoyance, who the hell knows? She’s tugging on a red rubber bracelet she’s always wearing around her wrist. “Don’t you know what—?”
“You fell,” Seth cuts her off. “From the scaffold. It was slippery with ice.” He pauses, and I know he’s staring at me through the rearview mirror, but I don’t look. “You blanked out for a while.”
I nod to myself. Blanked out. That’s Seth’s code for a flashback. Losing track of reality. Mixing up past and present.
