Page 30 of Revelation (Love Isn't What It Seems 3)

“I can’t stand my grandparents,” I blurted out, and before I could think about it, I continued. “I go visit them every damn month, and I fucking hate it. It is like going to a graveyard. Actually, scratch that. At the graveyard, you get some peace.”

Where did that come from? I went from thoughts about dating to my grandparents.

“Why do you visit them?” Yes, why? Because I had a blackmailer to take care of, and it was the only way to get money. Unless… the invitation for the masked ball auction entered my mind.

“It’s complicated.”

“I already told you; I’m good with complicated.”

Not this type of complicated, I thought silently.

“So what is your story?” I asked instead.

His dark eyebrows furrowed, as if the memories bothered him. I was just about to offer him a way out when he answered.

“There isn’t much to tell,” he started. “My best friend and I joined the military right out of university. We made it back alive, a lot of our friends didn’t.”

Guilt.There was so much guilt in that statement. I had a feeling there was indeed more to tell.

“I’m sorry, Maxim.”

I reached out my hand and placed it over his. I could sense the sadness and guilt rolling off of him in waves. Maybe this was the reason this man attracted me. Because I felt the same kind of guilt. Except his was an honorable one, while mine was caused by my carelessness. My eyes lingered on my hand on top of his, but all I saw were images of Brian’s bloodied face and smelled the gasoline, dirt, and blood. I felt anxiety take hold in the center of my chest, and suddenly my skin got clammy and my breathing got labored.

“It’s okay, Layla.” He took my hand that laid on his and took it in between both of his.Blood. Fire. Death. Blood. Fire. Death.“Layla, look at me.”

I heard his voice through the fog but couldn’t move. I was paralyzed, my eyes staring at our hands intertwined.

“Brian, please open your eyes,” I begged. His skin was so cold, his body stiff. That pain, I could feel it even now. It hurt physically and mentally. Trying to move us was useless. I couldn’t even move myself, even less both of us.

“Please,” I cried, the heat licking at my skin. “Mom!”

My lungs burned. “Mom!” I couldn’t breathe.

“Layla, look at me.” A man’s strong voice pierced through my brain.

I met Maxim’s gaze, then blinked hard. His fingers gripped my chin, keeping his concerned gaze on me. I blinked again.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructed, and immediately I obeyed. Then I started applying the breathing exercise my therapist had taught me. It had been a while since my last panic attack.

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

“That’s right. You’re doing well.” I blinked again, the images in my head slowly clearing.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, ashamed he saw me lose it.

“Don’t apologize.”

I took another deep breath and exhaled.

“Here is your order,” the waiter interrupted and I was glad. Before letting go of my chin, his eyes searched out mine.

“You good?”

“Yes, all good,” I swallowed hard the lump in my throat. He didn’t even care that the waiter stood there with our plates, waiting for Maxim to remove his hand that was stretched out across the table. I locked my gaze with his and nodded. “Promise, all good.”

He nodded and reluctantly let go. But the way he watched me made my chest glow, and this time my heart sped up for a different reason.

Once the waiter was gone, I glanced at my food and noted he ordered us both a salad. I was glad since my appetite had vanished with everything that had happened today.

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