Page 44 of Resilient Rhythms
My heartbeat thumps in my temples as I shift farther behind the tree. I suck in air, my panic attack shimmering on the edges of my vision.
My shoulders shake and black dots dance in front of my eyes.
My fingers curl into the tree bark and I pull in a lungful of air.
I see my sneakers, I smell freshly cut grass, I hear my peers talking and laughing, I touch tree bark, I taste air.
I focus on my five senses, clawing back from the brink of panic. As my heart rate slows, I lift my head and track Bran as he disappears into a building across the quad. The second he is out of sight—and farther away from me—relief snakes through my limbs.
I sag against the tree.
“Let’s go, Kenny,” Drew says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me to the parking lot.
Before we make it to my car, Alfred pulls up in a black SUV and Drew helps me slide into the back seat before he presses in next to me.
I breathe in and out, practicing box breathing, as Drew clicks in my seat belt and Alfred leaves campus.
When we’re two blocks away, my breathing finally levels out.
“Here.” Alfred passes a bottle of water to Drew, who uncaps it and holds it to my lips.
“Thanks,” I croak, leaning forward and taking small sips.
Drew and Alfred are quiet, giving me space to process my thoughts. With each street we pass, my nerves settle and my mind clears.
I’m tired of living in fear. When I first started receiving notes from Bran, I swore I wouldn’t change my daily life. But I did. It happened naturally as anxieties and uncertainties increased.
This isn’t how I want to live, afraid to go to the grocery store, looking over my shoulder on campus, having Drew shadow my every move.
When we pull up to the brownstone, Mav is already seated on the front steps. Concern washes over his expression and he stands as the SUV comes to a stop.
But when I slide out of the back seat, I’m no longer in the throes of a panic attack. I straighten my spine, push back my shoulders, and lift my head.
I will not cower. I will not be ashamed. I will not hide.
“Mckenna,” Mav’s voice cracks.
I look at him and heave out a deep breath. “Take me somewhere.”
He frowns. “What?”
“Let’s get out of here. Take me somewhere, Mav,” I repeat.
Mav studies me for a long moment, his expression serious and observant. I note the shift in his eyes when he comes to a decision. “My car, or Alfred’s?”
Relief skitters through me. “Yours, please.”
He nods and walks toward me. He envelops me in a hug and I clutch at him, breathing deeply, savoring his scent. Mav kisses the top of my head and pulls keys from his pocket. “Let me have a word with Alfred and Drew.”
“Okay,” I agree. “I’m going to drop my transcript inside.”
I head inside while Mav speaks to his driver and bodyguard. I change into a skirt and blouse, pull my hair into a bun, and slip into some slides. When I re-emerge outside, the black SUV is gone and Mav is leaning against his ride, his arms crossed against his chest.
He grins when he sees me. “I’m going out of my mind, you know?”
“I know, but I’m okay, Mav.”
“You’re more than okay, Mckenna. You’re strong as hell.”
