Page 84 of Captivated

Gasping breaths, heaving shoulders, and fists clenched so tightly he thought her manicured nails might be cutting her skin. She had to be seeing tunnel vision because she sure as hell wasn’t seeing him even when he stepped in front of her, and called her name. Even tipping her head back, and speaking softly didn’t help.

Yeah, shit was right.

Carefully, Joe pulled the little card from Liliana’s clenched hand. He didn’t need to look over the words—he’d already read them when he yanked it off her door. At the time, he’d been more focused on the fact someone else, who wasn’t him, had been sending her flowers. He felt a little fucking stupid for that, now.

“Hey, hey,” Joe said, keeping one arm tight around Liliana’s trembling shoulders. “Remember that thing we did on the street?”

Subtly, he saw her nod.

“You try that, and I’m going to grab your keys.”

Another nod.

She wasn’t speaking, but at least she was giving him something. Nods were better than fucking nothing. And he really needed to get her breathing under control, or she was going to black out from the way she was huffing.

Tears streaked lines down her face, and Joe took a quick second to wipe them away. It didn’t do very much good, though. Not a blink later, and more of her tears fell. A never-ending stream, really.

Jesus.

“Touch, see, feel, smell, and hear,” he told her. “Say them out loud, or in your head, but focus on that for a minute.”

Joe slipped the messenger bag Liliana had been carrying up from the floor, and dug through it. It was just his luck that he had to search through to the bottom of the bag to find the goddamn keys.

Once he had them, though, all was good. He unlocked her apartment, and practically kicked the door open as he turned the knob. Her dark studio apartment smelled like that cinnamon and cupcake candle he’d seen on her table once.

With the door at least opened, Liliana calmed a bit.

Not a lot.

Just a little.

Good enough for me.

Comforting, familiar places did wonders to sometimes help soothe anxiety. It could shorten the time of a panic attack for some people, too. He figured that was probably Liliana’s biggest thing—something, or someone familiar could help pull her out.

“Let’s go,” Joe said.

He didn’t wait for Liliana to respond, or move. No, he just slung an arm around her waist, pulled her into his side, and easily hoisted her up over his shoulder. He grabbed the other shit on the floor, and picked it up, too.

Inside the apartment, Joe kicked the door shut behind him, and looked for the closest—and most comfortable—place for Liliana. The couch near the windows seemed like a good place. Even when he moved to set her down on the cushions, her small hands grasped firmly onto him, and her fingers all but dug into his shoulders.

Nope.

He could practically hear her screaming the word inside her head.

Nope.

She was not letting him go.

“All right,” Joe muttered.

He turned, and sat his ass down on the couch. The very second he was settled, Liliana slid down into his lap, and buried her face in her hands. No matter what he tried to do, or how he spoke, or what he said, she just wouldn’t look at him.

It kind of killed him.

Joe figured it wasn’t about him right then, though. And he wasn’t about to make it into something for him, either.

Still, Liliana seemed comfortable to stay right where she was on top of Joe. That didn’t bother him. Hell, she didn’t weigh more than one-twenty soaking wet.