Page 35

Rhodes---Panic Attacks

A few hours later, a scream jolts me awake, my body leaping into a sitting position. My hands go for my gun in the drawer beside me as I look for Amelia, not seeing her in our bed. Fuck. Another scream ricochets the walls, and I see a sliver of light from the hall.

My bare feet pad down the hall, sweeping corners on instinct as I walk. Every piece of me wants to run toward her, and yet, I can’t lose the element of surprise if I have to disarm an attacker. I reach the bathroom at the end of the hallway, the sound of broken whimpers filling the air. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I take a steadying breath, unsure what I’ll find.

I turn the knob and find it locked. Jiggling the handle, I call out to Amelia. “Baby, it’s me. Open the door.” Silence is the response I receive, and fear crawls down my spine. I shake the doorknob, my voice growing louder as I try to convince myself that she’s fine. “ Kochanie , open the door now. Open the door, baby.” Still no response as I hear an agonizing sound, the brokenness evident in her voice. “Open the fucking door, Amelia.”

All I can hear is whimpers, her screams coming through the door as she battles her demons. She is fighting alone. Taking two steps back, I swallow hard before ramming the door with my shoulder. I have to get to her. The door doesn’t budge. I swore she would never be alone again. I repeat the motion over and over, not giving a damn if I reinjure myself. There is no point in keeping my body the way it is if I cannot get to her.

The door gives. I see Amelia on the cold tiled floor, curled in on herself. She has wedged herself between the tub and the toilet. Her cuticles are raw, the skin broken and angry. She’s breathing shallowly, whimpers echoing off the stillness in the room. Her shirt— my shirt— is in a state of disarray, and the hair escaping her ponytail frames her face. Another whimper breaks through the silence, followed by a piercing scream. Her eyes are slammed shut.

This is the third time I’ve found her like this, and she refuses to acknowledge it. I know she sees it as weakness, and if there is one thing Amelia hates? It is being seen as weak.

I crouch, setting my gun beside me, and I slowly start reaching my hands toward hers. I know I won’t startle her. Amelia is lost wherever her clever mind has her captive, held prisoner to an unspoken trauma. My warm hands find hers, clammy and shaking. I start rubbing my thumbs along her skin, hoping it's enough to pull her back to me. “Hey, kochanie . It’s just me. It’s just you and your Ro, okay? You are safe. You are safe. You. Are. Safe.”

Her eyes fly open, and she starts staring at something I cannot see on the wall in front of her.

I sit cross-legged in front of her, her eyes not moving and still seeing through me. There is panic in her eyes and her nostrils flare.

“Come back, kochanie . I still need you here, okay?”

Nothing. Not even a blink of those haunting eyes.

“I need you to follow my breathing, baby.”

There still isn’t a response.

“Deep breath, Amelia. You are safe. You are home. You are in our house, with me. I’m here. Exhale that breath slowly, kochanie . Slower. Nice and easy. That’s my girl.” I watch for any sign that she is returning to me. I don’t see one yet.

“Keep breathing for me. I’m just going to move some hair out of your face.” I softly brush a few strands from her face. “Inhale, hold it, kochanie , keep holding. Exhale, two, three, four.”

I don’t know how long we sit there, the tiles pressing into my legs, but eventually, after several cycles, I see her eyes start to focus.

Thank gods.

“Amelia, come back home. Come back to me, baby. They don’t have you.” A few heavy blinks, and her breathing is starting to regulate. “There you are. Come back, kochanie . Such a good girl for me. You are safe. They can’t hurt you here.”

For the next several minutes, I repeat the same words over and over, until they are burned into my mind. Her demons are hungry tonight, and I don’t know if she has much left to give.

A single tear falls from her eyes, recognition flickering across her face. A sigh of relief escapes me, and I keep running my thumb on the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry, Rhodes. I’m so sorry.” Her voice is so quiet, nothing but a tinkering along the air she pushes from her lungs.

I pull her to me, wrapping her tightly against my chest as she falls apart. She crawls into my lap, and the feeling of her against me is everything. “There is nothing to be sorry for, Amelia.” Her sobs ricochet off the tiled fixtures, another piece of my heart breaking each time.

We sit there until her body relaxes and her sobs have ebbed. I feel her nestle into the center of my chest, and a deep sigh releases from her body. She’s worn herself out. I stand with her in my arms, hoping to make it back to bed without waking her.

I succeed, tucking my whole world into our bed, making sure she’s surrounded by blankets and has a pillow to cuddle until I get back. I linger, placing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, kochanie . Your demons are my demons.”

I turn, shutting the door behind me, and walk toward the kitchen. My phone is on the charger, laying on the counter next to her beloved coffee machine.

I reach for the phone to call Parker. The clock on the oven reads close to three in the morning, but I need some insight into Amelia’s past. Despite feeling like I’m betraying her, I know that Amelia won’t let me in. Given the panic attacks she’s been having? I don’t have any other option other than going to her best friend.

“Hello?” Parker’s voice comes through the phone, and I am thankful she picked up.

“Parker? It’s Rhodes.”

“No shit. What do you want? Where is Amelia?” I hear the sass in her voice, the protectiveness for her best friend layered just underneath it. There is sleep laced in her voice, annoyance apparent.

“I need help. Amelia is having panic attacks, and I don’t think that it is only from her being ambushed.” I pause, waiting for an interruption that never comes. “Parker? You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Her voice is quieter now, as if she doesn’t want to have this conversation. “Go back to sleep, babes. It’s just Rhodes, being an arse.”

I hear her close a door, the sound coming through the line.

“What happened?”

“I had to pull her off the floor, Parker.”

“So have I.”

I still, the words Parker just said ringing in my ears. Parker knows Amelia’s demons intimately, as if she’s been beside her in the bottom of Amelia’s darkest hell. Something tells me that Parker has been in those bottomless pits, next to Amelia as she clawed her way back.

“I can’t tell you why she’s having the attacks, Rhodes.”

“But,” I start.

"I won’t betray her.” Her voice hardens, something I’ve never experienced from the redheaded woman.

“Parker. Please,” I beg, desperate for something.

“No. I will do a lot of things, Rhodes, when it comes to her. Very few people know the lengths at which I will go when it comes to Amelia. However, what I refuse to do is to give her demons any power. I refuse to betray her. I will not. If you want answers, you’ll have to ask Amelia.”

“She won’t tell me. Her walls are so high right now.”

I hear a sigh on the other end, followed by a murmur to Duncan. He must have come to check on his wife. I’m not happy with the man right now. He had purposely hidden things from my kochanie, and it doesn’t sit well with me.

“You need to let her come to you. And when she does, you need to be her safe place to land. When she tells you, Rhodes, it’ll be her giving you the last piece of herself. There is no going back, no walking away if she tells you.” Parker’s voice is like steel, unbending and without compromise.

“I’m not going anywhere, Parker.”

I will marry Amelia Conte. Protect her. Stand with her until the heavens deliver me.

“I know that.” Her voice is softer now, contemplative. “I think her heart knows that too. But Amelia cannot think with her heart. The second she makes a decision with emotion, she could get killed. Every choice she makes is meticulously crafted. Each outcome weighed to the last possibility.” Parker pauses. “You have to wait for her head to catch up.”

I lean against the counter, unsure of what to say to that. I know she’s right; if I force Amelia to share before she’s ready, I could push her away. This has to be her choice.

“Rhodes,” she says, her voice now gentle. “She will get there. I promise. I have to let you go but please keep holding her up. She needs you more than she wants to admit.”

Parker hangs up, and I lean my head back, wishing I could make this easier for the woman sleeping in the other room. The clock on the wall tells me that my alarm will go off in a few hours, so I plug the phone back into the charger, making my way toward the bedroom. Lennon wakes, purring softly before jumping from the back of the couch, following me to Amelia. He weaves into the bedroom, jumping onto the bed and curling around her side. I join them, pulling her close, and my eyes fall shut as I succumb to sleep.