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“Walker’s in jail. Everything will be okay. Right?”
“Not sure how all that gang shit works, but I think if Damon keeps his mouth shut, for the most part things are okay. From what I understand, the leader might be in jail, but he can still make things happen, so we need to be careful.”
Why on earth would someone get involved with a gang? It didn’t make sense. From the movies I’d seen, gangs were seriously scary. Like families, but more dysfunctional than my messed-up OCD-imprisoned mind. The thought of him running with them, causing trouble, hurting people.
Heat crept up my neck. He might be dangerous.Shit. I might be in danger being with him. My parents, they were killed because of…no. I can’t go there.Stay calm.
Smoothing down the sheet propped over Damon’s chest soothed the anxiety beast roaring to get out of me. The jitters didn’t settle, though. I tried it again, focusing on the texture of the blanket, straightening the wrinkles.
Must get them straight.
Perfectly straight before my next breath.
Had to…
Breathe, Lizzie. Breathe.
My lungs were too small. Too tight. Not enough air.Three. Six. Nine. Twelve. Fifteen…what number was next? I couldn’t remember.
I bolted off the chair, searching for my bag. Twisting my ring didn’t help.Shit.
“Lizzie!” Sarah rushed around the end of Damon’s bed, reaching for me. Her green eyes were wide.
“Bag. Pills,” I managed to spit out.
Three. Six. Nine. Twelve.
I turned around. The wall. I needed to touch it otherwise it would collapse. Cave in on me. Crackles vibrated through my mind. Crunching metal. The roar of squealing tires. The smell of burning rubber.
Gunshots.Pop!
“No!”
My knees gave, and I fell to the floor, gasping for air. It burned. Smoke singed my throat. My eyes.
A warm hand pressed my back. “Here. Girl, I’m getting help.” Sarah handed me my pills. Damn pills.
But right now, my salvation. I crawled to the wall and sat against it. I flicked open the top and pulled out a pill. No time for water. I popped it in my mouth and swallowed. Please work.
The door swung open, and Sarah bolted to her feet as Damon sat up in bed. “What’s going on?”
I waved my hands at Sarah. I couldn’t let him see—er—hear this.Shit. I clamped my hands over my face, tears streaming.
Breathe. Breathe.
A nurse knelt before me. I pressed my finger to my lips and shook my head, then pointed to Damon.
“Lizzie? Are you here?”
“Hey, Damon,” Sarah said, rushing to his bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“What’s going on? I hear something. Lizzie? What’s wrong?”
Sarah looked back at me, but darkness curved the corners. Her eyes widened. “Lizzie!”
And then there was nothing.
Chapter Eight
