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As my thoughts were interrupted, my lungs started screaming at me to fill them up with some air before I passed out face-first on the table. I tried to inhale but couldn’t and started to panic.
The blood in my mouth mixes with the sand as I’m thrown back to the ground, and for a moment I am choking on it…
“Evan, stay with me.”
“Can’t breathe.”
“Calm, baby.” Her fingers traced the edge of my jaw. “Just listen to my voice, and take a slow breath.”
I wanted to listen to her badly enough that I forced my diaphragm to flex and pull air into my lungs in a sharp gasp.
“It’s okay.” Lia’s voice pulled me from the panic the same way it had managed to pull me from the memory. “It’s all right, Evan… You’re all right.”
With nearly violent effort, I inhaled again. The act itself nearly made me fall out of the chair. I wondered if it was the restraints or Lia’s touch that was keeping me from landing on the floor. After a few more tries and a lot of focus on her skin against mine, I managed to start breathing normally again.
“Where did you go?” Lia’s fingers continued to run from my temple to my chin.
“Back there,” I responded. I swallowed past the growing tightness in my throat before continuing. “When they first tried to put me in the hole, I’d struggle. It was stupid—there were too many of them to fight.”
“But you kept trying.”
“For a while.” I nodded. “Eventually, I figured out there wasn’t any point. Once I didn’t respond that way anymore to whatever they were doing, they’d try to come up with other ways to get a reaction out of me.”
“Shit,” Lia whispered as her arms tensed. “You were there a long time, too.”
I could only nod. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to keep the memories shoved to the back of my mind, but I was really too tired for such an act of will. They were going to be back—with force. My hands began to shake uncontrollably, and I gripped Lia’s thigh a little harder.
“Evan, it will be all right.” Her voice echoed around the small room. “We'll figure it out. I'll help you figure it out.”
I laughed. It was hollow and without humor.
“Figure it out,” I repeated sarcastically. “I shot up my neighborhood park. I'm going to prison. I should go to prison.”
Her hand stroked the top of my head.
“We'll figure something out,” she said again. “I don't know what that is yet, but there has to be something.”
“Can’t think,” I told her. “Can’t think when I can’t sleep.”
“You have to sleep.”
“No.” I shook my head against her body. “It’s too much—too real.”
The door across the room opened abruptly, and Mark Duncan stepped in.
“Were you serious about your offer?” he said immediately to a confused Lia.
She shook her head, her look quizzical.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to admit I’m a little anxious to see how much this helps. Evan hasn’t slept more than a few minutes at a time in the past two days, and I believe it’s largely to blame for his breakdown.”
Breakdown. Is that what it was?
“Who are you?” Lia finally asked.
Mark shook his head like Odin does when he gets a bath.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Antonio.” He extended
