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“You’re okay,” I tell myself, my breaths coming in ragged fits and starts.
Is my baby okay? Did I just sacrifice my child for Noelle?How will I tell Timofey?
“I c-can’t breathe,” I rasp to absolutely nobody. I’ve never hyperventilated before, but I think that’s what is happening now.
My phone is on the sidewalk a few feet away, but I can’t force myself to move. I’m afraid I’ll cause even more damage. That I’ll ruin everything.
I never should have run away. I never should have left Timofey.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
41
PIPER
My lungs are collapsing.
My lungs are collapsing and my vision is going dark.
My lungs are collapsing, my vision is going dark, and I’m alone. Completely and utterly alone.
I’m going to die here.
Then a hand, strong and firm, wraps around my back. I’m hauled to my feet and pressed against a body as familiar to me as my own.
“Timofey,” I sob, curling into him.
It’s the only word I can manage before I have to draw in another shaky inhale. Though the tightness in my chest seems to be easing just with his presence alone.
“Don’t talk. Save your breath. I’ll take care of you.”
His voice is deep and reassuring. I press my ear to his chest and listen to the constant thumping of his heart. In a way, it feels like my own heartbeat. So long as his keeps beating, mine will be okay.
Our baby will be okay, won’t it?
“The baby will be fine,” Timofey growls. “Just breathe, Piper.”
I didn’t realize I asked the question out loud. But I listen to his command and focus on inhaling and exhaling.
Time passes both too fast and too slow. It feels like a small eternity that I’m folded in his arms. But we arrive at his car faster than I would have thought possible.
“Watch your head,” he says, settling me into the passenger seat.
It’s as I watch him walk around the car that I remember Noelle.
“She ran away,” I blurt as soon as he opens the driver’s side door. “Noelle ran away. She was—”
He reaches out in a flash and brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “I don’t give a fuck about her right now, Piper. I only care about you.”
“I’m okay.” I want to make him feel better. Timofey has lost so much already. Too much. I don’t want him to worry about me, too.
He arches a brow. His icy blue eyes are dubious. “I just found you curled in the fetal position on the sidewalk. You aren’t ‘okay.’”
“Noelle pushed me and I—”
