Beast: Learning to Breathe (Devil's Blaze MC #5)

Michael is gathering the packages I have on the table, I want to find him. Maybe if I could find him it would help to center me and keep me from going under too deep. But I can’t, the blinding whiteness in my vision takes over, changing everything to a weird gray hue with no colors. I’m starting to shake uncontrollably, the carefully constructed tower of packages I’m holding, that comes up to just under my neck, begin rattling. Which causes every eye in the room to turn to me.

“Are you okay, honey?” a feminine tone questions, and maybe her voice is kind, I think it is, but I can’t be sure over the way the blood is rushing through me and the loud pounding of my heart.

That seems to be all my ears can hear. I start backing away. If I can get through the living room and out the front door, maybe I can get away. Maybe I can get control. It was a mistake letting Michael in. He was nice, but I just can’t be around people. Not long-term, even though I’m getting better, I’m just too damaged…too dirty. The desserts I’m holding fall to the floor with a crash. I shake my head back and forth, backing up faster. It feels like I might just pass out.

“Hayden?” I hear Michael, his voice laced with concern.

I stumble backwards, closing my eyes for a minute, trying to block everything out. I feel a hand touch me and I scream. It’s a scream filled with nothing but complete and utter terror.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ.”

“What’s wrong with her, Brother?” The men are asking, I don’t register it, not really.

In fact, I think I’m still screaming. I’ve hit the wall in the hallway, and Michael is here in front of me, putting a hand on each of my shoulders.

I stop screaming. Now I yell, “Don’t touch me!”

“Hayden, sweetheart,” Michael says, but even though it’s his voice, it’s not his face I see. It’s someone else’s. Someone else’s entirely.

“Don’t touch me!” I scream louder, pushing against the wall, only wanting to get away from the demon I see in front of me. “Don’t you ever touch me again!”

“What is going on in here?!” I hear just before I hit the ground.

“Oh God, not again. Please God, not again. Please…please…please…” I cry, rocking back and forth, sobs racking my body as misery fills the very air around me. “Please…” I cry brokenly. “Oh God…please.”





37





Beast





“Beast, come away from her, honey, you’re making her worse,” Dani says, pulling on my arm. I’m on the floor trying to get Hayden to come into my arms but she just keeps pushing harder against the wall each time I try.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Diesel barks.

“Get away from her! Everyone get out of the house,” Pastor Sturgill commands, and he’s fucking out of his mind if he thinks I’ll agree to that.

“What’s wrong with her?” I ask this time, directing my words to the Pastor. It’s all I can do to keep my words even and quiet. That’s the best I can do even if they vibrate with anger. I don’t want them to scare Hayden further. If that’s even possible.

“Having all of you in here must have triggered one of her panic attacks. You all need to leave. It’s the only thing that will help her right now,” he advises. He’s probably right. He apparently has had experience with these episodes before, and I don’t like that he’s the one that dealt with them. I made up my mind yesterday that Maggie and Hayden were my responsibility. Pastor Sturgill is dreaming if he thinks I’m leaving Hayden in his hands now.

“Everyone leave,” I order the same tone of voice.

“Beast, honey,” I hear Dani. I pull my eyes away from Hayden and look at her.

“I got this,” I tell her. She stares at me a minute then grabs Crusher’s arm to leave. I know Pastor Sturgill is there, but I’m not wasting my breath on him. I need to get to Hayden before she hurts herself or Maggie.

Hayden’s entire body is shaking, tears are pouring down her body and she’s breathing so hard that each new intake of breath is a large heaving shudder. I’ve had zero experience with this, but I’ve dealt with men on the battlefield who are shell-shocked. Men who have seen too much—so much it breaks something inside of them. I figure that is part of what’s going on with Hayden. So, I go with my instincts.

“You need to leave. I can get her to calm down,” the Pastor says, starting to walk around me.

“All due respect, Pastor, but if you get one step closer, I will physically throw you out. Hayden and I have this, don’t we, honey?” I both warn and question, directing my words at Hayden and ignoring the annoying preacher. I inch slowly toward her, not much and so slowly and carefully that I couldn’t have moved much more than an inch. Hayden doesn’t scream, or try to push back into the wall again however, so I’m satisfied. I do it twice more. The last time I see her body jerk, so I stop.

“Give me your hand, Hayden,” I tell her gruffly, wishing I had a soft voice that wasn’t riddled with darkness. I just hope she feels connected with me enough that it helps. She called me her friend, hopefully that’s enough. I reach my hand out, instinctively giving it to her palm down. I can’t help the scars or the darkness of my hand, but every time I’m with Hayden and something happens she reaches for my hand. Sure, none of those things have been bad, but I’m hoping it still helps. If ever a woman needed something to hold onto right now, it’s Hayden and for some reason I don’t want to question, I’d rather it be me than the preacher who is standing by the door, yet still refusing to leave.

“Hayden, come on now. You don’t want to scare Maggie, do you? Give me your hand,” I tell her, and I’m holding my breath as her body jerks against the wall.

Her eyes, almost glassy, look at my hand. I’m hoping that means she’s hearing me. She’s crawled into a shell, and I desperately need her to come out of it…to come to me. “You hear me, don’t you? You don’t want Maggie to be scared. Hold onto my hand. I’ll protect you, sweetheart. I’ll protect both of you,” I vow to her. I’d already decided it on my own, but now I give her that promise. I ignore the way the words make my heartrate accelerate. It’s only because I’m afraid I can’t reach her. That’s all it is.

I am almost about to let the Pastor try. She’s been staring at my hand for what feels like an hour. In reality, it’s probably been more like five minutes. That feels like five minutes too long…and then…something happens. I watch, almost disbelieving, as she takes a hand that was clenched tightly into her chest and slowly lowers it.