Page 100 of Undertow

“Nothing yet,” she says finally.

When she offers me a subtle nod, a piece of my charred soul slips free.

“Not surprised,” Adrian grunts. “Guess we’ll take another shot. You should sit this one out. Tyler wants a turn with him.”

Julia’s jaw tightens, but her expression gives nothing away.

“Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.” She crosses to the door. “I’m getting a drink at the house. Let me know how it goes.”

THEN: STOLEN TRAUMA

I can’t stop shaking.

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I woke up in a New Orleans hotel room next to two dead bodies on a blood-soaked mattress. Each minute since has been worse than the last. From the moment I checked into a bed & breakfast six blocks away, my head has been nothing short of hell.

Hazy memories from the missing night haunt the darkness with trauma I can feel but not touch.

The constant shivering is making it hard to breathe.

The sting of suspicious injuries I don’t want to consider is making it hard to think.

I tuck the blanket tighter around my shoulders, but the warm quilt does nothing to counter the chill in my bloodstream. I can’t tell if the cold is coming from the air or my dying soul.

Merrick has kept his word about giving me time to piece myself back together. I haven’t seen or heard from anyone, which means he’s covered for me. I still don’t understand why he showed mercy, but I’m grateful, because I’ve stopped functioning.

The panic attacks are stealing every fucking breath.

I reach a trembling hand toward the phone on my nightstand. It’s a mistake. I know it, even as I unlock the screen and scroll to the text stream. But I’ve lost control. I’ve lost everything and I just…

God, I just can’t.

I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t think.

I just need something to hold onto.

One fucking splinter of light.

The last message from Gramps waits where I left it two days ago. It’s a selfie that’s supposed to show him riding a horse, but he only managed to get his right shoulder and the horse’s ass in the frame.

A choked laugh erupts from my throat at the familiar image. I loved it the day it came in. It’s my fucking oxygen right now.

I press call.

After two rings, the call connects.

“Hey, kid! That you?”

His voice.

Tears pound the backs of my eyelids. God, I miss him. How it feels to confront kindness.

Love. Connection.

Anythinggood.

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