“Oh, Benton,” I moan. “I can’t… I-” I’m starting to freak out. He’s being so possessive and I’m torn between being pissed that I like it, pissed that I can’t have it, and incredibly fucking turned on, as well as upset over Ellie and my new found emotions about Benton I didn’t knew ran so deep. My head is all kinds of fucked up. When my brain has to work this hard just to help me stand straight, it takes away energy from other things that have to keep my body moving.

Like breathing.

“You need to go,” I start to breathe heavy, feeling the panic well up in me. I can’t have this. I can’t have this. I want this, I don’t need this, and I can’t have this. Why the hell does this have to happen here?! In the bathroom of a crowded restaurant, all I can see is the man standing in front of me, currently looking at me like I’m crazy as the edges of my vision start to blacken. Fuck!

“Gabby?” His voice hums through my body, soothing me, but not enough to make the pace of my heart slow down.

Fuck! I took my meds today, I should be okay! I should be, but I’m not. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Benton, you need to go,” I whisper again, closing my eyes briefly, then shooting them back open when I realize closing them will only bring me more visions and pain than I need right now. There’s enough going on in the room in front of me, I don’t need to invite the images from that night back.

Oh, god, I feel like I’m going to pass out. Light headed, I put my hand on the wall behind me to brace my body before I fall to the bathroom floor.

“Gab, you’re scaring me.” His voice is so close. He’s staring at me, right in front of me, but he physically feels so far away. When his hand comes in contact with me, I have to close my eyes for fear of fainting. Just his touch is enough to help me silently and painfully make it through this episode.

Fuck.

Counting down from ten, breathing through my nose, gritting my teeth as the tears roll down my face, I see everything as if it were happening again. All over again. Each screech of the tires, each scream, the screaming baby.

Then… nothing.

“Oh, my god,” I whimper as the end of the flashback roars through me, crippling my body. Benton’s arms come around me tightly and hold on to me, so we don’t end up on the floor. The tears are streaming, and I physically ache in every part of my fucking body. Why did this have to happen to me?! Why am I the one that has to live with this?!

Because it’s your fault, Gabby.

“I’m here, babe,” he whispers, kissing my forehead and holding me tightly.

As unsettling as an attack is, especially one that violent, being here in his arms makes the recuperating process a ton easier than on my own. So warm and caring. So comfortable.

Shit.

“Benton,” I breathe. “You need to go back to your meeting.” My eyes connect with his, and I know I hurt him, but I’m so embarrassed right now and all I want to do is go home.

“Gabby, I’m not leaving you right now. What was that?” His worried expression warms my heart, and it pisses me off. My heart doesn’t deserve this.

“Stop, B. I’m fine. They happen all the time. Thanks for being here, but you need to get back to your meeting before you miss it.” I give him the best smile I can muster, then lean in and kiss his lips softly, calming the rest of my body. The only traces now of any attack is the memory of it, and the slight ache in my joints. The toll a panic attack has on someone is intense, and, when I have one that strong, that intense, that the flashbacks take over my vision, my entire body can ache for days. I’m on meds for it, and the doctors have all said what I have is normal for someone in my situation.

I’m anything but normal.

Benton

Rage

 

She wants me to leave, but her eyes are begging me to stay. I know it. I know that look. That’s the independent but needy Gabby shining through unintentionally. That’s the woman that wants me to leave her alone while holding her on the couch. This look in her eyes tells me everything I need to know. She wants me. She doesn’t want to push me away.

Then, why is she?

“Gab, screw the meeting. You need me right now.”

“I don’t need you, Benton,” she hisses. I’d be insulted, but I saw that look. She’s angry now, hell maybe she’s embarrassed, though she has no reason to be, but I saw that look she gave me. “I’m fine. Please… Please go back to your meeting. You can call me when it’s over. Hell, you can come over when you’re finished with it, but I need you to give me a few to… just give me a few, okay?”

Her eyes are pleading something, her hands still shaking, and she’s starting to flick the band again. I feel like I’ve heard something about the bands before. Are they used for suicidal patients? Is it just a nervous habit? Does she really like pain? Why can’t she just tell me?!

“Gab-“

“No, Benton. No. I’m going home. You’re going to your meeting. I’ll see you afterwards.” She puts her hands on her hips, and I know that’s it. She’s not letting me fight this anymore.

“Fine. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.” She nods, and sighs, as I kiss her and sneak out of the bathroom.

“Take long enough, dude?” Adam eyes me as I sit back in my chair. Thankfully, our guest hasn’t arrived yet, because I need to calm the fuck down.

“Everything okay, man?” Adam smiles as he sees our potential client arrive at the restaurant. “Let’s do this.”

“Perfect,” I grumble, watching the leggy blondes saunter over to the table. There’s no way Annaliese is letting him go through with this.

“Ladies,” Adam smiles, shaking their hands.

Uh… no thanks.

Smiling, I extend a hand out of politeness, making a mental note not to use it until I wash it. I’m not a germaphobe, but seriously, these woman probably hold more germs than the entire city of Chicago. To say we’re doing illegal business right now isn’t exactly true. These ladies do run a legal business… and then some. They want to expand, but can’t do so without Adam’s help.

“So, Mrs. Allister, tell us a little about your business,” Adam says after the waitress takes our order.

“Oh, well we sell high end re-sale items.” The one on the left smiles. “And we want to expand.”

Her fake smile is rubbing Adam raw, I can tell by the clenching of his jaw. We both know why they are here, so why is she wasting time with her ‘side’ business? The way they’ve been eyeballing both of us all lunch is incredibly irritating. Really, everything about these girls strikes me as wrong, but what Adam wants, Adam gets.

“Listen, girls. I have to get home to my fiancé. We have a very important wedding coming up, so, if you plan on wasting my time beating around the bush, you can go home now. I need straight forward, and I needed it yesterday,” Adam says in the most polite way possible, but the looks on their faces say that they are anything but pleased with it.

Trying not to chuckle, I clear my throat a few times, then nod at Adam while taking a sip of water.

“He’s right. We have a lot of important shit to get to,” I say, seeing the glare from Adam for cussing on a business lunch. Who does he think we’re meeting with?! They’re prostitutes!

“Mr. Callahan, Mr. James, we’d like you to help fund our resale business legally, and under the table we will be using the money to start up a high end call girl and call boy service for the higher ups in the city of Chicago.” The woman on the right smiles, like she’s better than the girl on the left because she has the balls to actually say it.

Well congratulations, girls, your moms must be proud.

Adam starts talking numbers, and I block him out. The minute Annaliese gets word of this wild hare he’s got, she’s going to be pissed he even considered the idea, let alone thought he could actually get away with it.  Hell, she’s not really the jealous type, but if word ever gets back to her about this lunch meeting… shit, Adam might be sleeping on my couch for the next week.