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“Baby—”

“Let me out!” I screamed.

“Cameron—”

“I can’t breathe,” I gasped. “Let me out. Let me out, let me out—” The words cut off as the sobs wracked my body. Which only made me freak out more.

“Fuck.” The vehicle swerved onto the side of the road, a car horn honking loudly as it passed us.

As soon as we came to a stop, the locks disengaged and I shoved out of the passenger door and onto the grass verge, frantically sucking in lungfuls of air.

“Baby, breathe.” I felt his hands on my arms and I shoved him away, feeling seconds from passing out.

Then Forde was in front of me, hands tight around my biceps. “In …” He pulled in a deep breath. “Out.”

My body understood it needed to follow his instructions, even as my mind was screaming that it hated him for having this kind of control over my emotions.

As I mimicked him, the breathing exercises calmed me, and I was horrified as realization struck that I’d had my first-ever panic attack.

Because of him.

Forde flinched at whatever he saw in my eyes. He tried to draw me closer, but I pushed off his hands again. “Baby …” He let out a shaky exhale. “I’m sorry. I just … I was in my own head and just … spewing out my worst thoughts. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His lips trembled. “I’m so sorry. Please.” He reached for me again.

I considered his pleading expression as relief started to soothe my panic. I hesitatingly walked into his arms. His embrace was almost crushing as he pressed a kiss to my temple. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”

It took me a second because I was so thrown by the extremity of my reaction, but I finally returned his embrace.

But I was still shaken.

And terrified.

Forde Dallas tapped into an emotional, vulnerable side of me I had protected and hidden for so long, and now it seemed like our relationship had only made that part of me rawer. Easily bruised and wounded.

“I won’t do that again.” Forde squeezed me harder. “Fuck, Cameron, I won’t ever do that to you again. I promise. I’m so sorry for doing that to you.”

He sounded just as shaken by my reaction as I felt.

So, I forgave him, even though it hurt, because sometimes we didn’t realize the power we had over someone or the power someone had over us until moments like this.

47. Forde

Iwas a fucking mess and I knew it.

That day in Inverness I’d let my own shite twist up in my head, and I reacted instinctually instead of thinking of everything I’d learned in my sessions with Dr. Gardener. Seeing how my impulsive threat to break up with Cameron affected her … it shook me enough to bring me back into sharp perspective. I’d never seen Cameron lose it like that, and I hated that I caused it.

So … I was determined to try harder for her. For me.

I’d called Dr. Gardener, and I had another session booked with her in Oban in a week’s time.

Until then, I was attempting to pretend for Cameron’s sake that everything was all right, but I knew she could tell it was bullshit. The more I worried about her while the toxic shite stirred inside my mind … well … it felt like it was all eating me alive.

I kept hearing Genny’s voice in my head.

“When ma mum died, he started treating me like his new wife. Dae you understand or dae I need tae go intae more detail?”

That poor wee lassie. I chucked a stone into the sea with all the force of my rage toward a dead man. It skipped and hopped over the waves, and I wished all this crap I was feeling would go with it.

“Nice.” A familiar voice sounded at my back.