Page 23 of Strangers in Love

“I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t still in love with him,” she said. “Not for a long time.” She gave me a closer look, and something like horror showed on her face. “Eoin, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I shook my head. “No. No. It’s better I know. I mean–”

A screaming horde of children ran past, and I winced. Evanne could get loud, but that shrill, high-pitched yelling…

“I love her, but I’m not so sure I want a pack of them myself,” Aspen said, clearly trying to change the subject.

Her voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Hollow. A faint ringing…

Fuck.

“Eoin, are you okay?” Aspen put her hand on my arm.

I nodded but didn’t answer. I needed to go, be somewhere else. I needed quiet.

Fortunately for me, Alec’s house was huge, which meant there was somewhere I could go that would let me work down from the anxiety that was making it hard for me to breathe. I wasn’t in a full-fledged panic attack or flashback, but I could feel myself working toward it.

“I’ll be back,” I muttered as I stepped past Aspen into the hall behind her.

I felt like I was moving under water, in a nightmare, trying to get away, but never really getting there. The walls were closing in, and I couldn’t breathe.

Then I saw it, a half-open door, and I pushed through it. The library. Perfect. I closed the door behind me and dropped into the first chair I found. My eyes closed, and I buried my head in my hands, concentrated on my breathing. Slow counts in and out.

Explosions. Gunshots. Screaming.

“No. No. I’m here.” I had to say the words out loud, keep saying them out loud, hoping that I’d eventually believe them.

The kids were still yelling and, logically, I knew they were happy, but logic wasn’t ruling right now.

Bart was dead. Doto was bleeding out in front of me.

I left him.

He kept saying my name over and over again. Begging me not to leave him. Begging me to save him.

I only saved myself.

I left him there.

I watched him die. Choking on his own blood. Each cough ripping him up more and more inside.

And Bart just kept staring at me.

Accusing me.

Wanting to know why I’d killed him.

“I didn’t kill Bart. I couldn’t save Doto.” Maybe if I said it enough, I’d believe it.

Leo screamed as I pulled him from the car, his leg coming apart with a thick ripping sound. His arm came off in my hand. I kept grabbing him, and he kept coming apart. Pieces of him. All over me.

So much blood.

And things thicker than blood.

“That’s not what happened.” I rubbed my forehead. “That’s not what happened.”

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