Page 18 of Beneath the Hood

Deep breath out. One. Two. Three.

My legs bounce erratically as I scan the room, briefly locking eyes with Jackson before continuing on to find who I need.

“Sierra.” I try to make my voice nonchalant, but it comes out pinched. “How long do I have?”

Sierra drops the pillow she’s rearranging as she turns to look at me. “Not enough time for you to do whatever you’re thinking. Just wait until later.”

My heart stutters, and a sharp pain spreads across my chest.

Panic tightens around every piece of me and squeezes until I’m sure I’ll burst at the seams.

Nausea curdles my stomach, the urge to heave so strong I press the back of my hand against my mouth.

My breaths come shorter, my eyes darting from the table pushed against the wall to the garish studio lights that are looming over the makeshift set before settling back on Jackson. Someone drags an end table to the side, and the sound of it scratching against the hardwood grates against my ears and rakes down my insides.

Jackson cringes from the noise but his eyes stay locked on me. My vision narrows.

I’m spiraling and I know it, but it’s an out-of-body experience and I can do nothing but watch. A helpless bystander. A spectator to my own destruction. If I were in my right mind, maybe I would feel shame for being so vulnerable in this moment—in front of the one person who will see what’s happening and won’t be content with pretending it never did.

I try to take deep breaths. Try to steady my nerves, but once the panic has started, there’s no reasoning with the madness.

Deep breath in. One. Two. Three. Deep breath out.

It doesn’t help. My hands reach up and pull at my roots. “Stop!”My voice is loud, echoing off the high ceilings and reverberating across the empty space.

The men moving the furniture freeze in place.My glam team, busy putting out their tools, spin to face me.Jackson continues watching.And Sierra, ever the businesswoman, ignores me completely. “Keep going, guys. She’s just having a moment.”

My nostrils flare. I wouldn’t even behavingthis moment if it weren’t for her.If she would have just let me make my food, we could have avoided this entire situation. But instead, I gave in. Let her dictate what goes in my body and desecrated myself with garbage.

The thought reaches up and strangles me.

Deep breath in. One. Two. Three.

“No, I’m not having a moment. I need…” The race of my heart pounding against my chest makes my words stutter. “I-I need everyone to stop what they’re doing and get the hell out. I can’t do it. I can’t do it right now.”

Sierra sighs, walking over to me. My gaze jerks across the room to Jackson, standing effortlessly calm and collected, hands in his pockets, his eyesstillnever leaving me.

“Blakely,” Sierra says. “We can’t stop. This is on your schedule, has been for weeks. If we push it back, then you’ll be behind. Again.” Her words are slow. Soothing. Like she’s trying to bait and lure an animal into its cage.

My head shakes, unable to focus on anything other than the fact that it’s now been over ten minutes since I finished stuffing straight-up trash down my throat, and every second wasted is another ounce of fat. One that, no doubt, every single person on the internet will notice.

“I don’t care,” I hiss through clenched teeth. “Get them out.Now.”

“Look.” Sierra clicks her tongue. “I know you’re a control freak, okay? I get it. You’re mad that I took over and had you eat what the common folk do.” She gestures toward the empty boxes.

My insides flare, chest burning with her words. “I’m not a control freak, I just…” Closing my eyes to try and shake the dizziness, I continue to inhale.

One. Two. Three.

“Blakely, look. Take deep breaths and just… go sit in the makeup chair.” She waves her hand. “Let them make you pretty.”

My chest pulls tighter.

Suddenly, the air shifts, heat dancing through the chill that’s pricking on my skin.

Sierra’s eyes flick behind me. “Hi, Jackson.”

He ignores her, walking around and standing in front of me. Embarrassment drowns my system, blood rushing to my cheeks and making them hot. I don’t want him to see me like this. Never wanted him to know about this part of me.

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