Page 121 of Call Back

No. No. No.

Colt was halfway down before he realized I was still up at the top of the stairs. “Maggie?” His eyes narrowed and he climbed up a step. “Maggie. What’s wrong?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Someday I’d be able to jog down a dark staircase into a basement. But today was not that day.

I couldn’t catch my breath, and I felt hot all over. I jerked the gloves off my sweaty hands, stumbling backward until my back hit the wall.

“Maggie?” Colt’s eyes were wide with worry as he raced back up the steps, tugging off his own gloves as he went. He grabbed my elbow as he helped me sit on the floor.

I started to cry—heavy, heaving sobs that stole breath I couldn’t afford to give up.

Colt sat next to me and wrapped an arm around my back, letting me nestle my head against his shoulder. I cried until my face tingled from hyperventilating. I covered my mouth and nose with my hands and tried to take slow deep breaths.

Colt’s hand lifted to the back of my head, and he stroked my hair. I sank further into him, somewhat surprised he was being so tender and supportive, but that part of him had been there all along.

When my face stopped tingling, I lowered my hands and looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asked. “Jesus, Mags, the shit you’ve been through the last week . . . you were due a breakdown.”

“I’ve wasted time we don’t have.”

“I’ll cancel my gig tonight.”

“You can’t do that.”

He gave me a mischievous smile. “I can do pretty much whatever I want.”

“Let’s go find the gold in the basement.”

“Deal.” He stood and reached his hand down to me, then pulled me up and into a hug. “Everything’s going to be okay, Mags. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You can’t promise that, Colt.”

He held my gaze and grinned. “Didn’t we just establish that I can do whatever I want? Well, I decided I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I searched his eyes. “Can you cure claustrophobia?”

“Oh, shit. I forgot.” My mouth dropped open and he said, “I remember your freak-out while working in the basement the day after you came back.”

“But . . .”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He took my hand. “Magnolia Steele, you can do anything you set your mind to. You can do this. One step at a time.”

I knew he was referring to the stairs, but I related it to discovering the truth . . . one step at a time. And while I knew we were making progress, it was too little, too slow.

We were ultimately going to pay the price.

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