Page 207 of Red Zone
“I’ve got you,” he says immediately, his voice low but sharp, already moving to brace me.
But it’s too late.
The pins and needles explode up through my legs, and the numbness spreads like wildfire through my chest, my arms, my jaw.
The world tilts.
And then I’m going down.
My dad catches me before I fully hit the floor, lowering me carefully to the carpet just outside the double doors.
“It’s okay, Ly,” he murmurs as he eases me onto my back. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
My body jerks once, hard, my breath stuttering out of me.
He’s already stripped off his jacket, folding it quickly and sliding it under my head—not pushing my chin up, not tilting my neck—just enough to cushion me.
I can feel the fabric against my cheek as the buzzing overtakes everything.
I can’t move.
I can’t speak.
But I can still hear him.
“You’re okay,” he keeps saying, his palm warm and steady on my shoulder, his voice quiet but commanding over the murmurs starting to build around us.
“You’re okay, sweetheart. Just breathe.”
I focus on that—on him—until another sound cuts through the noise.
A voice I know almost as well.
“Move. Let me through—hey, back up!”
Carter.
I can hear him coming closer, his tone sharp, almost angry, like the crowd itself has offended him just by being here.
And then another, deeper voice joins his.
“Everybody back up. Give her space. Now.”
Jaxon.
The shuffle of footsteps, chairs scraping, the buzz of whispers pulling away.
And then another presence drops to the floor on my other side, cool fingers brushing my hair back from my forehead.
“Oh, Ly,” Madison breathes, her voice soft but shaky.
I feel my body tense to the point of pain, then it all goes dark.
When I open my eyes, it takes a few seconds to figure out where I am.
The room is dark except for the soft glow of the lamp on my dresser, and everything smells faintly like laundry detergent and lavender.
I’m home.
