Page 117 of Addiction

I frown because there was no question in his comment. “Correct.”

“I see.” He takes another pull of his whiskey before placing his empty glass back on the wood of the bar. But his interrogation doesn’t end there. “How long was your jail sentence?”

Anger flares inside, and I’m about to ask how the fuck he knows so much about me before I realize that the destruction I brought to my family no doubt made headlines on the internet because they sure made them here in Chesapeake.

I roll my tongue over my teeth, trying to think of a respectful reply when what I actually want to do is rip his head off. But something behind me catches his attention, and the look in his eyes is of both surprise and disgust.

“Shortcake,” Grayson says. “Come meet Dr. Rodriguez.”

My sister comes up to Grayson, but Rodriguez’s eyes are still locked over my shoulder. Intrigued, I turn to see. When I find Wade standing a few feet away my breath catches. Not because of how fucking hot he is but because of the sheer horror on his face.

He’s pale, his eyes are wide, and his chest is rising and falling. The man standing in front of me right now is not the man I’ve come to know. He looks like a scared little boy who doesn’t know whether to speak up or run.

“Wade? Babe, are you okay?”

Before I can say anything else, he’s out the door in seconds and I’m chasing after him.

“Wade, wait.”

He heads across the parking lot, but he doesn’t seem to want to stop. Or can’t. When you’ve got to run from something, you just run for your life.

“Wade. Please. Stop!”

The emergency stop of a car and the blast of its horns has him slamming his hands on the bonnet, the woman driving shrieking at him to watch where he is going. My heart is in my mouth, but I grab his shoulder, spinning him around as he gasps for breath.

But it’s not because he was running.

“I can’t…” He grabs his throat. “I can’t bre—”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” I go to grab his hands, but he pushes me away, unable to stand still.

“I can’t… Ash…”

Anxiety fills me as he leans over, gripping at his chest with white knuckles. He’s having a panic attack, and instead of him letting me help him he keeps pushing me away. “Come here. Do as I say.”

Desperate to help him, I invade his space, fighting him off when he goes to push me away. “Listen to me.” I grab hold of his hands, his body trembling with dread. “Cup your hands over your nose and mouth. It will help.”

He does as I ask and holds them in place.

“Now, copy me. In through the nose and out through the mouth.” I repeat my rhythm, trying to ease his breathing. I fucking hate seeing him like this, and even though I’m helping, I still feel so damn helpless. I’ve no idea what went on in there or what connection he has with Dr. CEO, but I do not like what it’s doing to my guy.

His eyes are wide, full of pain, as I continue talking him through his attack. He starts to gain control of his breathing, his skin is clammy, and his heart is sprinting faster than Usain Bolt as I place my hand on his chest.

“I’m right here,” I murmur.

“Asher,” he breathes, unshed tears now in his eyes.

“Shh. Not yet. Don’t talk just yet.”

The minutes feel like hours the longer we are out here, and the need to protect him at this moment is far greater than anything I’ve ever felt.

He takes his hands away from his face once he’s calmer and rests his head on my shoulder. I hold him close, letting him take a few minutes as I try to wrap my head around what has just happened and more importantly why.

“You scared the hell out of me then, Wade,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I pull back, making him look at me. His features are full of sadness and hurt. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?”