Beyond Repair by Kelly Lincoln Page B

talking to another guy.
    Invisible hands closed around my throat, strangling me. Everything was silent, except for my choked breaths. My mind screamed to run away, but it wasn’t an option. I had no car. It would be better to try to blend in, be invisible like I always strived to, than to draw attention to myself by getting up and running.
    I hunched over, letting my hair fall in my face, and I gripped my phone, pretending I was texting. Don’t see me. Don’t take Mia away.
    Footsteps came closer and closer, and then slowed. My heart pounded in my chest. The door slammed.
    He was inside.
    My phone fell to the ground as I leaned forward with my hands on my knees, my breath coming out in shallow, gasping noises.
    Someone touched my back and my heart froze as my hand shot up, creating a defensive barrier between us.
    “Brooke.” Chris sat next to me, his voice gentle and full of concern. “Are you okay?”
    I shook my head as the shallow gasps continued to come out of my mouth.
    “Try to take a deep breath, okay?”
    I nodded but choked out a few words. “Need … to … go …”
    His hand rubbed my back in feather light motions. “Sure, we can go. Can we wait until you’re breathing okay or do we have to go now?”
    I choked in another breath. “Now.”
    He reached down to pick up my phone and wrapped his arm around my waist to pull me up. He kept it there as we walked to his truck. Chris opened the passenger door, helped me in, and dropped my bag on the floor. After jumping into the driver’s seat, he reversed out of his spot but braked suddenly as he turned to look at me. “Is it Mia? Do we have to go home or to her school?”
    I shook my head. “Just … away … from … here.”
    He nodded as he put the truck into drive. I leaned forward, holding my head in my hands as my breaths struggled to whoosh in and out.
    After a few minutes, we stopped moving and his hand was on my back again, moving up and down gently. “Tell me what to do.” His voice sounded so uncertain and sad, and I felt horrible that I was making him go through this with me. My heart slammed against my chest as I tried to calm myself down.
    Breathing slowly became easier, and my heart stopped pounding. I focused on his touch against my back, grounding me. “Good job, keep breathing,” he murmured over and over again.
    Finally, I looked up. “I am so sorry.”
    His hand moved up to my shoulder and squeezed it. “Don’t be. Are you okay?” His eyes were uneasy as he looked at me.
    “Yes.”
    “Do you want to get some air?” He looked out through the windshield, and I followed his gaze and started laughing when I saw where we were.
    “Hey, it’s our favorite place— the beach.”
    “Yeah, I …” Chris started laughing, too. “It was close by and all that I could think of. I’m not going in that damn sand, though.”
    “Yeah, I don’t want the air here. Can we just go home?”
    He nodded. “Of course.” He squeezed my shoulder again before he returned it to the steering wheel and started driving.
    I felt the need to explain myself without giving him too much information. “Listen, about what happened … I sometimes get panic attacks—I guess is what they are. I never had them treated, so I’m not sure.”
    He looked at me. “Is there something that sets them off?”
    Yeah, evil douchebags. “I saw someone who set it off, yes.”
    Anger flashed across his face, but he kept his voice calm. “Do you need me to go take care of anything?”
    I shook my head. “No, it probably wasn’t even him.”
    He glanced at me, the fire still burning in his eyes. “How do you know?”
    Those scorching eyes had me pinned to my seat. After seeing what happened and helping me, Chris deserved an answer to his question. I couldn’t tell him the whole story yet, though. Not until I figured everything out. “Because he lives in New York. And he doesn’t know where I am.”
    His expression calmed as he nodded. “Does it happen a