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He lowers his hands, his eyes still trained on me.
“We can talk,” he says in a softer voice.
“I don’t need to fucking talk, Jaden. And I don’t need your fucking teasing, either. You’re right. I’m no better than you or Abel. I’m a fucking slut. That’s what I am. I’m a slut who pays other sluts to fuck her. I’m not supposed to be like that. I didn’t ask for it, but now that I’m here, there’s nothing I can do about it. Because I don’t have the slightest idea how to be something other than what I am.”
He takes a step in my direction. I cock my gun.
“Stay where you are,” I bark again.
He freezes.
“I pursued you, and I regret it. I thought I’d learn something from you and perhaps even heal myself if you’d let me close to you, but I was wrong. Nothing seems to get to you. Nothing. You don’t need me. And that’s fine...” I say, flicking my free hand in the air. “I don’t give a flying crap. You’re free to do whatever you want, but you better leave right now.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets and purses his lips, watching me in silence.
I lower my gun.
“And by the way, I don’t care whether you work for me or not. It turns out it’s bad either way,” I say, my airways closing as a panic attack spirals inside me.
This can't be happening.
But it does.
I start to wheeze, the same chemical reaction that has turned my life into a living hell, setting in motion waves of angst and panic, making my pulse spike, and the air not nearly enough.
Panting, I take a step back, bracing for the impending panic attack.
“Please go...” I mutter as my heart starts slamming against my ribcage.
He takes a step in my direction. I flick my hand, leveling my gun at him again.
“Stay where you are,” I shout.
Brazen, he locks my eyes, a dark smile tugging at his lips.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Jaden.”
Unfazed, he takes another step. That's when I fire my gun. I aim away from him, the bullet grazing the ground, the sharp sound spearing through the air.
He lunges at me, snakes an arm around me, yanks the gun out of my hand, and tosses it to the ground. His arms lock around me as a full-fledged panic attack begins barreling through me with a vengeance.
Breathing chaotically, I grab his arms, desperately holding onto him. He pulls me into his chest as I grapple with the heat and then the shivers, my heart pounding like a drum machine.
I slump in his arms.
His fingers wrap around my neck.
“Calm down, baby,” he says softly.
I wish I could, but my mind is no longer mine. It spins more doom and gloom, my growing panic fueled by the chemicals racing in my blood.
The fear rams through me, over and over again, and the more I fight it, the faster I sink.
It’s a nightmare I cannot stop.
“Senna,” he calls again, and I collapse in his embrace.
His lips brush my hair, his arms draping around me.
