My fingers start to tingle.
Shit.
I suck in a breath, but it doesn’t feel like enough air. My counts are coming too slowly, the chaos in my mind blocking everything I’ve learned these last few weeks in therapy.
My pulse pounds against my ribs, hard enough to hurt, and for one terrifying moment, I feel the ground shifting beneath me. Not a full panic attack, but close enough that I recognize the warning signs.
Maria’s voice cuts through the noise in my brain.
“Name what you’re feeling.”
Betrayed.
Angry.
Heartbroken.
The feelings don’t disappear, but putting words to them keeps them from swallowing me whole.
I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on my breathing, trying to remember my counts.
In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.
It helps. Not much, but enough.
Enough for me to reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. Enough to know I don’t want pills or an escape.
What I need is help.
My thumb hovers over Cullen’s name before dropping to the contact beneath it.
The phone rings twice.
“Hudson?” Maria answers.
My hands shake, my voice broken when I reply. “Maria, I need to see you. Right now.”
“My last client just left,” she tells me. “Come on in.”
The call ends, and I sit there for another moment, gripping the steering wheel.
Everything hurts.
I’m still angry. Still grieving. Still trying to wrap my mind around Ella’s confession.
Two months ago, I would have looked for a way to numb this.
Today, I’m asking for help.
Chapter sixteen
Cullen
The door to Hudson’s house swings open after my incessant pounding. Hadley stands on the other side, face twisted with fear and anger. “What the hell, Cullen? Are you trying to break it down?”
I push past her, my heart in my throat. “Where’s Hudson?” I’m already halfway up the staircase, Hadley right on my heels.
“He’s still asleep. What’s going on?”
