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Authors: Jane Charles

Between the Lines (20 page)

BOOK: Between the Lines
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He turns
and takes my hand in his. “Nothing, Ellen. I wouldn’t betray you. The only
reason I said anything to Mag was because I need to protect those kids too.”

He’s
looking into my eyes.

“I hope
you understand.”

Gabe does
feel an obligation to his students, and I get that. At least he only told Mag
what anyone else would learn if they bothered to search for Ellen West.

 

 

 

 

Gabe – 31

I blink
my eyes open and look around Ellen’s apartment. The television is still on, but
it’s been muted. I can’t believe I fell asleep and don’t even remember what we
were watching. After eating pizza we kicked back on her couch, she snuggled
against me and we just chilled. I wanted to take her to bed, and that’s
practically all I could think about while her body rested against mine, but I
wasn’t about to rush again. We did last week and look how that ended. This
time, I intend to take my time, make sure something real is happening here,
even if my cock is ready to skip ahead and get down to business.

She fell
asleep first. I do remember that. Her soft body, cuddled up against mine, her
head on my shoulder and hand on my thigh. As her body grew heavier, not that
she could ever be described as heavy, I couldn’t bring myself to disturb her
and send her off to bed. I was enjoying having her there with me, too much. I’m
the one that muted the television, now I remember. It was so she’d continue to
sleep on me and I didn’t want her waking.

But,
she’s gone now. She probably took herself off to bed. I can’t really blame her.
It couldn’t have been comfortable sleeping on me. I’m not exactly soft and a
certain part of my anatomy certainly isn’t. Damn, will I always get hard just
thinking about her?

I
probably should let myself out and go down to my own apartment, but I don’t
have that kind of energy. She left me here so I assume she won’t care if I
stretch out on her couch and go back to sleep.  Reaching behind me to adjust
the pillow I see Ellen. She’s sitting in a chair, almost near the window. She
can see out, but she’s not close enough for anyone to see in. A blanket is
wrapped tightly around her, she’s rocking back and forth, biting her bottom lip
and there’s stark fear in her eyes.

Shit!

I get up
and go to her, kneeling in front of her body. “What’s wrong?” I already know.
Or, I think I do. I’ve seen it happen to students.

Her eyes
meet mine and her breathing is labored. Tears fill her eyes but she doesn’t
answer.

“Ellen,
have you ever had a panic attack before,” I ask quietly.

She
blinks at me. “You know what this is?”

“Yeah,” I
answer and shrug. “Has it happened before?”

She gives
me a quick nod and pulls the blanket tighter. She’s shivering and I know being
chilled can be one of the symptoms. “Is your heart racing?”

She gives
a quick nod and tries to take a deep breath, but it doesn’t work. She’s breathing
too quickly, close to hyperventilating.  I search into the folds of the blanket
and find her hands. I’d pull her into my arms, but I’m not sure if that will
escalate her symptoms or calm her. For everyone it’s different.

“Are you
dizzy, feeling weak or faint.”

“A…little…faint.”
She can barely talk.

Tightening
my hold on her hands, I ask. “Are your fingers tingling?”

Ellen
gives a sharp nod.

“How long
have you been like this?”

Her eyes
go wide and her brown eyes fill with tears. “I…don’t…know. I…just…woke…up…”

“Shhh,” I
tell her. She’s shivering too much to try and talk right now.

“This has
happened before?”

Again she
nods.

“Do you
have meds?” If not, I need to get her to a hospital.

“Took
them already.”

I glance
around and see prescription bottles on the table.  My knowledge of prescription
meds is limited, but I do know about panic attacks, anxiety, and the
medications the kids are prescribed. It was part of my month long training when
I went to work at Baxter.  Still holding one of her hands, I reach over with
the other and grab the bottles. One is a benzodiazepine and another a beta
blocker, which are normally prescribed for anxiety and taken daily. Shouldn’t
she have something to take in case she has an actual attack? Clearly, the ones
she is on hasn’t kept them at bay. Experience with the kids have taught me that
sometimes there is breakthrough and they need to take something extra to help
them through. But, I’m not a doctor and she’s in bad shape. “Do you want me to
take you to the hospital?”

Her eyes
grow large with fear and she tries to jerk back. “No, I can’t go out there.”

I keep a
tight hold on her hands. “Okay, we’ll stay here.” I’d ask why she’s afraid to
go outside, but her answer won’t matter. Whatever she’s afraid of has escalated
and is usually unreasonable, not that it matters to the person suffering from
the attack. They may even know the feelings are beyond rational, but it doesn’t
matter when going through something like this. The emotions far outweigh
reasonable thoughts and only time and proper medication helps.

“What can
I do?” There has to be something, but I’m clueless and have never felt so
fucking helpless in my life. The kids have therapists and a pharmacy at their
disposal. Here, it’s just me and Ellen, in a small apartment and she’s already
taken her meds.

Mateo!
Maybe I should call him to come up here. He’s had more experience with this
than me. But, if I call him, Ellen will find out he isn’t the type of counselor
Baxter portrays him as, but a therapist. Do I risk that?

I have to
help Ellen. That’s all that matters. I’ll deal with the rest later. I grab the
phone from my pocket. He’ll be asleep and has to work tomorrow, but I don’t
care.

Ellen
grabs my hand before I can punch in his number. “Don’t.”

Clearly,
this is going to push her further. “Okay.” I put the phone aside.  “What can I
do?”

Tears are
slipping down her cheeks. “I…don’t…know.”

“Let me
get you tucked into bed.”

“No!” she
snaps. “I…ca…ca…can’t go…back…th…th…there.”

I glance
around her apartment and down the short dark hall.  She’s afraid of something
that I can’t comprehend or understand, but she can’t continue to sit here like
this, wrapped in a blanket, shivering. “I can take you downstairs.” Maybe if I
get her out of here.

She
stares at me, then looks out the window again, her eyes searching for
something. What, I don’t know, before looking back at me. “Yes.”

I stand
and hold out my hand. “Come on.”

Ellen
comes to her feet, still clutching the blanket around her. I turn off the
television, grab her meds, and turn off the lights before leaving and locking
the door. She isn’t saying anything and I stay close as we go to my apartment.
She stops just inside the door. “Is anyone else here?”

“Mateo,”
I answer.

“Are you
sure?” Her eyes are darting around the place.

“Yeah,
but I’ll double check.” I lock the door behind me and then look in every room
and every closet. She follows silently and her breathing starts to calm when
she is assured that nobody else is in the apartment.

“Let me
get you in bed.”

She gives
a quick nod and I take her into my room and pull the blankets back on the bed.
She crawls in, still clutching her own blanket and curls in to the fetal
position. I get in beside her, pull the blankets up and then spoon myself
around her. At least she isn’t shivering as badly. Maybe the meds are beginning
to work.

I don’t
say or do anything, just hold her. I can’t think of anything I could do to help
and there probably isn’t anything. I don’t even know why she’s so afraid or
what brought this on. Unless it was the past. She spilled everything to me
earlier about her past and the new trial. Did that open a floodgate of emotions
and fear? That has to be the answer, but I’m helpless to do anything for her.
At least at the moment. All I can do is hold her and try to offer what comfort
I can.

 

Ellen

 

I know
I’m being irrational. I could tell myself that a hundred times over but it
doesn’t take away the fear. The attack came upon me when I was asleep and it’s
not the first time it’s happened. I’m usually attacked when I let my guard down
and this isn’t the first time I’ve woken up with shaking and chest pain. I
grabbed my meds immediately, but it was too late. There’s another medication
the doctor prescribed for situations just like this, but I hadn’t had it
refilled in a long time. I hadn’t needed to. I should have known the first time
Scott called that I needed to get the prescription filled for this very
situation.

Why did I
stop taking the anxiety meds in the first place?

I know
it’s because things were going good and I hadn’t had issues in over a year.
And, even though I hadn’t been taking them, those prescriptions were always up
to date. Except they are for a condition, and should be taken daily, and not
strong enough to combat a panic attack. And, I only started taking them again
last week. They need more time in my system to before they really begin to work
and alleviate symptoms.

Why the
hell didn’t I keep the other meds up to date and why didn’t I get them filled
the minute Scott called?

It was so
stupid and I’m paying for that mistake right now.

I wish I
could stop shaking and I wish the pain would go away. It’s ruling me and I’m
not ruling it. And, I can’t stop the thoughts and jumping ahead to the worst
case scenario. The same thing played over and over in my head after I looked
out the window, wondering if they were already there, watching me. I moved the
chair back so I could see out and nobody could see in. I just knew Krestyanov
had thugs out there, waiting to make their move. But, what if they were already
in the building? What if they were on their way up here now? They would kill me
and Gabe, too. He would be dead and it’d be all my fault. I almost made him
leave, but that would mean I’d have to unlock the door and then they could get
it.

Photos of
mutilated bodies flashed through my mind. That’s what they were going to do to
us. I knew it. But not if they can’t get in.

I tried
to tell myself that they couldn’t know where I was or my name, but it didn’t
help. They could have been tracking Scott’s phone. That’s why he didn’t call me
in New York until he had to. He didn’t want to use the burner either, which
means they are here or trying to find me.

But, they
won’t kill me until the judge rules my testimony inadmissible. But, what if he
already had and they are here now to make sure I don’t testify, ever?

My
breathing is easier now that I’m out of my apartment and in Gabe’s bed. They
probably don’t know where he lives. Unless they’ve watched him too.

Did I
just bring danger to his door? And Mateo’s?  He doesn’t even know what’s
happening and he could be killed from just the association.

The pain
in my chest is easing, but the thoughts don’t stop.

I need to
make them stop.

“Music,”
I finally say.

“Music?”
Gabe asks quietly, his mouth near my ear.


The
Sleeping Beauty.”

“Disney?”
He asks, confused.

For the
first time since I woke, I feel hope, and almost a giggle. “Tchaikovsky’s
The
Sleeping Beauty
,” I clarify. I am beginning to feel better, but I can’t
move. Not yet.

“Um, I
don’t have that on my tablet.”

I didn’t
expect him to. “Mine does.”

He pulls
away from me. “I’ll run upstairs and get it.”

Immediately
the panic increases. I can’t have him away from me. What if they are up there
already? What if Gabe walks in on them and he’s killed, or makes him bring them
to me?

I know
they aren’t there. These are just more irrational thoughts, but I can’t let him
leave my side. I feel better when he’s with me and must keep him here.

“Shush,
I’ll only be a minute.”

He
guessed what I was feeling without having to say anything. Nobody has ever done
that before. They’ve just looked at me as if I’d gone mad and I couldn’t
explain. It’s as if Gabe gets it and he’s done nothing but try to help. Tears
spring to my eyes. Nobody has understood until now, except my doctors, but
he’ll be gone when it’s over. Gabe’s not going to want to spend any more time
with me now that he knows what a basket case I am. I’m going to lose him and
everything that’s important.

The pain
starts up in my chest again. This time from loss and panic. It’s so fucking
unfair having to go through this and lose him too.

“Okay, I
won’t leave,” he says gently. “Let me grab my tablet and download it for you.”

“Where is
it?”

“Just
over there on the table,” he answers. I can see it across the room. “Are you
okay if I leave for just a second?”

I give a
quick nod but feel his loss the minute he gets out of bed. I try and force
myself to breath deep and slow but I don’t take my eyes off of him.  He comes
back to the bed and settles beside me. I turn over so I can see him. Gabe’s
half sitting, pillows behind him and he’s leaning against the headboard. He’s
searching iTunes. There are a lot of different versions.

BOOK: Between the Lines
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ads

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