Page 87 of Losing the Rhythm

“No,” I gasped.

“Yes. I will. I have to.”

I forced in a wheezing breath. No way was I going to a hospital. I could do this. I could calm down. This was nothing. I was fine.

“I’m fine,” I said, this time not sounding like I was choking on death.

“You aren’t, but you’re a tough girl. You will be. Let me help get you home.”

Slowly, he helped me to my feet. It was hard to straighten up after being hunched over like that with all my muscles tensed up. Then we were in his truck and barely a minute later, pulling into Seth’s driveway.

Seth came bounding out the door a moment later as Bebe took the lead, barking and growling.

“What is going on? Why the fuck are you here?” The aggressive snarl from Seth took me back.

Roman didn’t seem fazed as he got out and came around the truck to open the door for me.

Seth practically shoved the man away before he helped me get out. My legs wobbled and I leaned into him.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Seth was furious. His whole body was completely rock hard as he gripped me close to him, turning slightly so I was further away from Roman.

“He didn’t do anything,” I said, gripping his arm and tugging a little to get his attention.

“She’s been having a panic attack. I found her parked a mile back.”

“Panic attack.” All that attention that had been on Roman quickly switched to me. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” He cupped my face and lifted it so he could get a better look. “You’re pale.”

“I’m tired,” I admitted.

“Let’s get you inside. I’ll make you something hot to drink and you can curl up on the couch until dinner. Want me to tell the others to stay away today?”

“No. You can’t do that.”

“I can and they’ll listen.”

“It’s fine if I just lie down for a little bit.” I forced myself to push away from Seth and then slowly made my way inside. Bebe attached himself to me and followed, pressing lightly against my side, just enough to let me know he was there. I rested my hand on top of his head, feeling his soft fur and the strength of him underneath that. I definitely didn’t have the energy to go up the stairs, so I went straight for the couch like Seth suggested.

It wasn’t a bad idea at all, to relax on the couch for a few hours. It took a while before Seth came inside. He still looked tense, but when he looked at me, he visibly relaxed.

“Are you okay? Want to talk about it?”

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him something, anything, but my words died before they could even be a thought. Emotions slammed into me again. The anger and sadness and regret. The self-hatred and confusion. It was too much, threatening to send me into a tailspin again. Before I understood what was happening, I was on my feet.

“Cadence?” Seth seemed so confused.

“I-I…” I shook my head. Despite the exhaustion pulling at me, I managed to push past Seth and beelined it to the attic.

Once there, for the longest time, I paced. Back and forth. Over and over again as I let my thoughts go.

I had finally faced the fact that Dad could have done more. But he didn’t and that knowledge ate at me. Then Roman basically said the same thing. More should have been done, but they had instead decided to take a dangerous risk to use it as an opportunity to make a raid on the entire gang.

What would have happened if I’d been shot. I would have fought hard to get away from Lindie only to die at the hands of the Ryder gang. Why?

Everything was feeling too impossible, too out of reach.

I took in a sharp breath, my ribs hurting. Realizing I was spiraling, I glanced around the room for something to focus on. My guitar leaned against the wall, and I made that my focal point, my world. All that existed was that guitar and nothing else mattered.

My current guitar was mine. Bought with my own money, decided on all by myself. In every regard it was mine. No one but me had ever played it. I was the only one to ever change the strings, clean the fretboard, polish it, and play it. It was a symbol of my own freedom, of my journey to where I was.

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