Page 41 of Keep Me Safe

“Oh, sorry, that spot is ta—”

My heart stops in my chest when I see who it is.

It’shim.

chapter twelve

kira

I haven’t been face-to-face with him in almost four years, but he looks exactly the same. Like a nightmare dragging itself into the daylight.

His tall, thin frame leans over the table toward me, close enough that I catch the sharp scent of cologne and something bitter underneath—alcohol, maybe. His dark eyes, nearly black, bore into me, and my stomach twists violently.

I can’t breathe.

The air feels thick, pressing against my lungs, but I force myself to sit up straight.Do not cower. Do not let him see.

“You two looked cozy.” His voice is the same, too—oily, smug, curling around me like a chokehold.

He’s here. He’s right here.

“Leave me alone, Zach,” I manage, but my voice is tight, barely containing the tremor threatening to break free.

His smirk widens.“So you’re fucking Jared’s dad now? How am I not surprised? A slut like you wants all she can get, right?”

My skin turns to ice. I can’t move. I can’t blink. The bar around us fades into nothing—just muffled voices, blurred shapes, a faraway hum.Not real, not real, not real.

“What do you want?” I whisper.Hadn’t he taken enough already?

My heartbeat slams against my ribs, fast and uneven.Where is Noah?

Zach leans in closer, his breath warm against my face, and I flinch.“From you? Nothing right now.” His teeth flash in a grin, predatory and cruel.“But I know where to find you when I want a whore.”

His words hit like a slap, like hands pinning me down, like darkness swallowing me whole.

He straightens, turns, and walks out as if he didn’t just rip me open all over again.

The bile rises so fast I barely swallow it down. The bar is too bright, too loud, spinning around me as my breath shatters into pieces. I grip the edge of the table, my nails digging into the wood, trying to ground myself, but it’s useless. I can’t be here. I can’t beanywherehe might find me.

Someone sits down across from me, and I jerk back so hard the chair wobbles.He came back—

“Kira.”

Noah’s voice cuts through the static, low and steady. I blink, vision tunneling until it lands on his face—concerned, steady, real.

“Are you okay?”

I look up at him, and he instantly recognizes something is off. I’m shaking, and I can’t catch my breath. I’ve had anxiety attacks before, but this one takes the cake.

“Let’s go,” he says, moving toward me to help me stand.

His arm wraps around me, supporting me. Guiding me back to the truck, he opens the door, helping me climb in. I’m lightheaded, and I still can’t breathe. As he shuts his door, I finally let myself cry.

“Hey, what happened?” he asks.

“Listen, I need you to breathe with me, okay?”

I try to stop hyperventilating, holding my breath.

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