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My dad used a more medical approach to explain it to my mom, but she never really got it. She only saw her teenage daughter freaking out and causing a scene, and she wanted it to stop. In the end, she quit trying to reason with me after I explained panic attacks weren’t reasonable, and she just let me get on with it.
That was better for the both of us back then, but right now the only thing I can think of is my mother telling me to take some deep breaths and stop being so silly. I almost want to hear that. To believe it. To be able to snatch back some control. Because at this exact moment in time, I feel like I’m right back there. I feel like I’m fifteen again and my heart is about to explode, only this time there is a reason for my panic attack. That reason is six foot three, dark-haired, covered in tattoos, and apparently horrified by the thought that I might love him.
Fuck.
I get dressed with shaking hands and head out to find Lacey; she’s sitting on the sofa scrolling through a cell phone that looks like it was made in the early nineties. She rolls her eyes when she sees me. “Zeth left. He says you’re disgusting. Please tell me you didn’t do anything too weird with my brother this morning.”
Oh, good god. Seriously? He made a comment like that to Lacey? I’ve never been this girl. I’ve never been the girl to let anything a boy says affect her, and yet right now I feel like my heart’s breaking. Is there some technique to holding yourself together when this happens?
“Are you okay? You don’t look very well.” Lacey tucks the phone into the pocket of her jeans. I can see the square of light from the display lighting up through the material of her pants. I just stare at it until it goes dark, and then I snap out of my daze.
“I need to see Pippa. You wanna come?”
Lacey’s brows draw together. “I don’t think Zee would like that. He told me he wanted us to stay here. Admittedly he said he was staying here, too, but…”
“Well, screw him, Lacey. If he can’t be bothered to stick around, then why the hell should we?” This sounds perfectly logical to me right now. I’m not a complete idiot; I know the police are looking for me, but I also know Charlie knows where Zeth lives. Without Zeth around to unscrupulously shoot people, I doubt we’re actually safe.
Lacey looks me up and down, her forehead crinkled. The crinkles disappear when she makes up her mind. “Okay. But just so you know, Pippa said some nasty things about Zee’s…about my mom last time we saw her. She was really mean.”
About Zeth’s mother? How the hell would Pippa know anything about Zeth’s mom? I sincerely doubt he’s been forthcoming with any information, and Lacey never even got to meet her. “What did she say?” I ask.
Lacey shakes her head. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
When Lacey says she doesn’t want to talk about something, it’s generally not a good idea to push. “Okay. Never mind. You don’t have to worry, though. I’ll make sure she’s nice, okay?”
We leave the warehouse, and it’s only when I’m outside that I remember I don’t have a fucking car. The insurance must have come through by now, but I haven’t really been concerned with administrative things like checking my bank balance. I call a cab, and Lacey and I wait outside the warehouse, huddled together for warmth. We could go back inside, but I don’t think either of us want that right now. The phone in Lacey’s pocket rings three times before our ride shows up.
“Who is that?”
Lacey kicks her worn, once-red Converse at the ground, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just some guy. He keeps calling.” She takes the phone out and switches it off. Our cab arrives; we’re about to get inside when Michael’s sedan appears farther up the street.
“Oh dear,” Lacey says.
“Yeah. Oh, dear.” I think we’re in trouble now. Michael’s usually placid face is livid as he pulls up behind the taxi. He slams the car into park and jumps out, rushing around to meet us.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he hisses. “You trying to make Zeth kill me or something?”
“We’re not your responsibility, Michael,” I throw back.
Lacey sniffs, covering a mild chuckle. “Actually, I’ll bet we are. Zee’s sent you on babysitting duty, right?”
Michael doesn’t grace us with an answer. He leans into the cab and hands over a twenty, telling the driver to get gone and fast. The driver does as he’s told, and then Lace and I are standing outside the warehouse with one mighty pissed-off Michael. “You’re going back inside,” he informs us.
“No, we’re not.” I am so sick of feeling trapped. There’s no way I’m going back inside that building. Not until Zeth’s traumatized, furious expression is a distant memory. “I’m going to see Pippa,” I tell him.
“The shrink? What the hell for? Lacey’s just had an appointment.”
“This isn’t for her. This is for me. Your boss is a grade-A asshole and I need to talk to my friend.”
My immovability on this subject must be clear as day, because Michael huffs out a frustrated sigh and then throws his hands up. “Okay. Fine. But I’m driving, and I’ll be coming up to the apartment with you, too.” He mutters under his breath as he storms back around to the driver’s side of the car. All I hear are the words irresponsible, walking bait, and death wish.
I don’t mean to frustrate Michael; he’s a good guy, but I’m just too worried right now. Worried over everything. I thought Zeth and I were turning a corner, but after his reaction to my confession just now, I don’t know if we’re even on the same street anymore. There will come a day when all this uncertainty and panic is over, and right now that day just can’t come quick enough.
