Page 2 of Deadly Threat
“Talk to me,” Amber said. “Do you need an ambulance?”
Better but still shaking, Mia drew a deep breath and looked at her sister’s horrified face onscreen. “I’m…okay.”
“No, you’re not. Forget the library. Go back to your apartment. I’ll call Dr. Jeeves.”
Mia squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. She hadn’t had an attack in ages, and certainly not one that had come on so quickly. Tilting her head down to rub her face against Ladybug’s once more, she forced her voice to sound stronger. “Don’t.” She lifted her head and put extra emphasis on the words. “I’m okay.”
There was no way she’d let Damon Marcher have power over her, especially in death. He’d been convicted, thanks to her testimony, but had tried to control her from prison. She’d been in witness protection before and after the trial. Bars or no, he’d been able to keep his men looking for her, wanting to use her against her sister.
She’d been his pawn for too long in the past seventeen months. Even after Mia had been rescued, even while under the U.S. Marshals’ protection, she’d been in hiding and it sucked.
Now, with the leader of the Quattro Gang dead, and their group in tatters, Mia Livingston was mere history to them.
It was time they were the same for her.
She would never be anyone’s pawn again, and she knew how to protect herself now. Didn’t mean she didn’t still have unusual fears and triggers, but she had to get over them, one way or another.
As she focused on continuing to breathe slow and steady, her sister stayed quiet and let her and Ladybug do their routine. When the last of the restriction left her lungs, she set the dog aside and stood. “There. All better.”
“I’m so sorry,” Amber stated again.
The words scratched like sandpaper against her skin, not because she blamed her sister. Not one bit. The fact that Mia wasn’t the kickass person she used to be was what irritated her. That Amber would ever feel the need to apologize for anything did, too. “Please don’t,” she said, gripping the handrail. “It’s not your fault. I have to be able to talk about it.”
The fact she couldn’t even hear Marcher’s name without freaking out meant she wasn’t doing as well as Dr. Jeeves believed. As well as Mia, herself, had hoped.
Which meant itwastime for a session, but her next wasn’t for two weeks.
She started down the stairs again, focusing on Ladybug’s harness and the whiteTherapy Dogdesignation stamped on it. She didn’t want to take time from her new assignment to squeeze an emergency visit in.I can handle this.
“Can I please make this up to you tonight?”
“I have a meeting.” The words flew out of her mouth before she even registered them. It was the perfect excuse, though. There was always a PTSD/peer group gathering at the Catholic Church not far from Amber’s office on Tuesday evenings.
Meeting, it is. That might be enough to keep her from losing it until her appointment with Jeeves.
Amber nodded, expression desperate. “Afterward. I’ll pick you up.”
Mia hit the landing. Could she really see her tonight? Was shereallyfree? “That’s not necessary.”
“It’s at the church, right?”
“Are you keeping tabs on me?”
Amber looked slightly abashed. “I know the time and location of all the peer support groups meeting in the area.” Big surprise. “I know you’d prefer the other members don’t see me, in order to protect your identity. If it makes you feel better, I’ll park a few blocks down.”
Mia shifted back and forth on her feet. It had been so long. Marcher was dead. Could she reclaim this part of her life and see her family again? “I don’t know.”
“Baby steps. It won’t be easy resurfacing after the last year and a half, but you can do it. I know you can. My dream of having you beside meispossible. We’re focusing on the future, not the past, okay?”
The future. Once, Mia knew hers would be by Amber’s side, all the way to the Oval. While Mia had never been a fainting wallflower, she’d never desired the pursuit of fame and power like her sister did. Yet, she’d always supported her. Since high school student council, Mia had written Amber’s speeches, coordinated her campaigns. It was a dream job, assisting her to the mayor’s office.
Damon Marcher had ruined that.
If only I hadn’t gone out that night…
Mia opened the exit door, bright sunlight and the smell of fresh cut grass clearing the stagnant stairwell from her senses. Blaming herself wasn’t the answer. “The future, right.” She wouldn’t celebrate the violence of Marcher’s death, but maybe it was time to release what happened, as Amber was encouraging her to, and find her liberation.I’m done being a victim. Done being afraid.“I’ll think about dinner. Let me see how today goes. Text me later.”
“Are you sure you can handle going out right now?”
