Page 19 of Beneath the Hood

Bile teases the back of my throat, chunks of the pizza I just ate threatening to come back up and remind me of what I just gave upmonthsof restraint for. The acid burns my esophagus, and I swear to God I can feel the extra weight already dragging me down with every minute I stand here.

Jackson’s palms reach up and cup my face, angling my head to meet his eyes, the mossy green searing through me. I suck in a breath at the way my mind zones in on his gaze, and I’m suddenly desperate for more of his calm.

“Don’t leave,” I gasp.

His thumbs brush my jaw, and I focus on the feel of his calloused fingers as they scratch against my face.“I’m not leaving. Are you okay?”

There’s a burn behind my eyes, and Jackson goes blurry as I stare back at him, something warm blossoming in my chest and rising to my throat. I shake my head no, my hair brushing against his forearms with the movement.

His jaw tics. “What do you need?”

My heart cracks open at the question, the pressure against my lungs easing, just a bit.

“I need… I need them to leave.” My tongue jets out to wet my dry, chapped lips. “And you to stay. Please.” My heart palpitates, stuttering against my ribs. My hands jump to cover his.

“Everybody out.” His voice is strong. Commanding. I sink deeper into his hold.

His eyes never leave mine, his fingers tightening against my skin, and I focus on the brown specks that dot the forest green of his gaze.

One. Two. Three. Deep breath out.

Sierra scoffs. “This is ridiculous. They need to finish setting up.”

I don’t respond. I can’t do anything other than focus on Jackson’s eyes. If I break away, I’ll lose the rest of my sanity.

“No.” His voice is sharp.

“What do youmean,no?” Sierra bites out.

“Have them leave,now. Or I’ll make them leave.”

“Listen,” Sierra continues. “She does this sometimes, has these… moments, and we always get through it. We don’t need you coming in here and concerning yourself with the way things work.”

His eyes finally leave me and my stomach heaves, twisting until it breaks into a thousand pieces and prods against my edges. My nails dig into the back of his hands. His fingers tighten against my jaw.

“The only thing I’m concerned with is Blakely,” Jackson snaps. “And you. Getting. The. Fuck. Out.”

His eyes come back to mine and the knot in my gut loosens.

Deep breath in. One. Two. Three.

He’s my anchor. The only thing keeping me from being lost in tumultuous seas.And even though it makes me weak, I let him keep me steady until I’m able to stand on my own.

10

Jackson

I’ve been holding Blakely in my hands for the past ten minutes. Her skin is soft underneath my palms, her trembling jaw vibrates through my fingertips until I feel her unease like it’s a tangible thing, sinking into my bones and locking me into place.

I don’t know what it is she’s going through, but I know panic attacks when I see them. Most of my childhood was spent helping my father navigate through his when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, having post-traumatic stress attacks from his time overseas.

My dad always needed a focus object. Something to keep him anchored, so he wouldn’t get lost in the darkest parts of his mind. So his memories wouldn’t overtake his reality.

And maybe it’s the way Blakely latched onto me the second I arrived. Or maybe it’s seeing the same haunted look in her eyes that kept me awake so many nights with him. But there’ssomethingthat has me holding steady and keeping her in my grasp. Something that sucks me in like quicksand, telling me to stay.

So, I don’t move from my spot.

Not when that bitch of a manager screeches in my ear, and not when every other person who didn’t give a fuck that Blakely was breaking down, leaves. I hear them moving, hear their whispered complaints and groans of disapproval… but still, I stay.

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