Page 98 of Breathe Like Hell

“If you ever want me to forgive you for all the shit you’ve done, you’ll let me go right now. I’m fucking serious. If you don’t want me to be done with you for good, get out of my way.” I injected as much anger into my voice as I could, just to keep it from shaking.

“I can’t let you go. He’s not going to take you from me.” His hands were on my shoulders, moving to my neck, to my head and my face, like he couldn’t decide where to hold me.

“He’s going to come up here and break your door down if you don’t let me go. And I’ll hate you forever for that.” I jammed my finger into his chest.

Pain flashed in his dark irises as he shook his head.

“Please. Dakota, baby, I’m so sorry. You’re right. I’ll talk to you. We can fix this.”

“Get out of my way.”

“Please. I love you, baby.” His expression was desperate. “I love you.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“This isn’t how you treat people you love.” I shoved past him and yanked open his door, then left without looking back.

The second the door shut behind me, I started crying harder than I had the entire time. I stumbled into the stairwell, choking and gasping, snot and tears pouring down my face as I tripped down the stairs. I shoved out the door and instantly knelt on the sidewalk to vomit into the bushes.

I love you, baby.

I couldn’t stop sobbing, couldn’t get a full breath in, like I was on the brink of a panic attack.

Micah was getting out of his truck, rushing over towards me.

“Don’t touch me!” I shouted before he got too close, holding my hand up, palm facing him. My entire arm was shaking violently. “I need you to take it away. Can you do that?” I turned my head, my teary eyes meeting his. “Answer me, Micah. Can you take this away, yes or no?”

His lips were pressed tightly together, his expression solemn. I felt him in my skull, seeking out all my anguish.

Finally, he spoke. “Yeah.”

“Do it.”

“There won’t be much left, I hope you know that.” These emotions are so deep in your brain, occupying so much of your thoughts, that you won’t feel anything if I take them from you now.

“I said, do it, Micah.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

MICAH

Dakota was quiet by the time we arrived at my house. Her hair was damp and tangled, her eyes and nose red from crying. I’d had a lump in my throat the entire drive back from Mason’s apartment because I didn’t like doing this with her, didn’t like what I’d felt in her head—what she’d asked me to take away.

It was more than sadness or panic or overwhelm.

It was heartbreak.

I knew better than to take something so integral from her, but there was no way I could look her in the eyes and deny her in that moment. The emotion was so deeply rooted that erasing it left her with next to nothing. Just numbness.

But I knew what it was like to crave that, and how it felt to never be able to get it, so I did what I shouldn’t have. I gave her that deadly anesthetic.

Dakota made no moves to get out of the car after I parked in the garage, so I went around to the passenger side and got her out myself, then carried her inside. Her eyelids were heavy as she clung to me, making soft noises under her breath that might’ve been cries had she any strength left.

“Do you want to wash your hair?” I asked as I brought her upstairs, the lengths knotted and draped over my arm like a waterfall. “I could get a bath ready for you.”

Dakota stiffened in my arms.

“No bath.”