Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Anger. Weakness. Loss. Heat. Frustration. Hurt. Sad. Mad. Determination. Defeat. Anxiety. Fear.
Round and round it swirled inside me until I knew I had seconds before I burst. The tension looped around my chest and each rotation pulled the rope tighter and tighter until I struggled to breathe.
Daire Music Group.
Nausea swelled like a tide in my stomach.
Swallowing the acid bile down, I glared at him, using the last of my remaining control to whisper a single promise. “No matter what it takes, I will ruin you.”
With that, I bumped my shoulder against his and rushed out the door.
I held my head high and regal until I heard the door click closed. Then, I ran to my office, grateful for the late hour and empty building.
Letting loose on Lucian released the pressure that built hour by hour, but it left me deflated and empty. It left a void that quickly filled with another heaviness that compressed my lungs in a different way—a less composed way.
I usually released the stress and increasing emotions in small, controlled bursts. Because when I let it all out at once, it left me hollow and too weak to fight off the anxiety and swell of emotions that my anger tried to cover. Without anything to hold it back, it consumed me—washed over me again and again like a riptide pulling me under.
I burst into my office and shut the door, stumbling forward until my hands smacked the top of my desk. I hung my head between my shoulders and dug my fingers into the hard wood, trying to hold on.
I sucked air in through my nose and blew slow, even breaths out, but it wasn’t enough. I rolled my neck and tried to slow it down, but it grew faster and faster. I ran through the phrases I knew I should say but couldn’t hear over the doubts playing on repeat.
So emotional.
Too emotional.
She’s a woman, of course she’s over emotional.
C’mon, chica. Let us see you lose control.
She gets it from her mother. Her Puerto Rican mother. She can’t help it.
Her poor father is left with all that wildness. Poor man.
I growled in an attempt to release an ounce of the building frustration, hating my mind for creating images of me as a wild animal, out of control, being everything everyone said. But it was too late—too big.
Seconds turned to minutes until time ceased to exist beyond gasping breaths and shame.
And I knew: this was a bad one. The effects would linger longer than today.
A click pierced the bubble of panic swirling around me, but I was too scared to let go of the desk. It grounded me. I needed it. Maybe if I focused on one thing, on the sharp curves of my red nails pressed against the glossy white surface, I could block out everything else and gain back some control.
I traced up and around my pinky with a shaky finger, down between, and back up my ring finger, attempting and failing to match my breaths to the rise and fall of my tracing hand. Still, I tried. Down and back up. Down an—
Two firm shackles locked around my biceps and jerked me away from the desk.
“No,” I shouted.
I needed it. It grounded me.
I needed it.
Everything blurred with quick movements while I tried to keep my eyes on the table, but it was a useless fight. The shackles spun and shifted me as if I’d actually been engulfed into the ocean. I sucked in breath after breath, gasping for more air in my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get back to the desk. If I could hold on to the desk, I’d make it through this.
But then, my back hit a wall, and the light illuminating my office flashed before vanishing behind a dark shadow. One of the shackles slid down my arm and guided my hand to a hard, warm surface, thumping with life, rising and falling with breath.
“Breathe with me,” a deep voice commanded.
“I-I-I ca-c-c-ca-n-t.”
“Yes, you can,” he insisted. The other shackle slid to wrap around my neck, forcing my gaze up. “Look at me, Aspen.”
Lucian’s dark gaze met mine. Embarrassment splashed into the mix, pulling me down.
Of all the people.
After what just happened.
Why him?
I pinched my eyes shut. Anything to avoid facing the added shame. It was too much.
“I said look at me.” Deep. Dark. Commanding. The words battered against my walls.
I should have told him to fuck off, because no one ordered me to do anything.
Except…I didn’t.
Instead, I pried my eyes open and looked right at him.
“Good.”
I waited for the impending fire to burn up the back of my throat and explode, large and out of control.
But something else happened entirely.
Something…eased.
As if the twist of the rope around my chest loosened, releasing an inch of freedom.
Not enough to stop the panic, but enough to keep my eyes open.