RHODES
The mixtureof memory and imagination was so potent, so brutal, I couldn’t catch my breath. The only thing I knew was that Anson was here. The feel of him against me was the one thing I knew I could count on. The steady beat of his heart against me. His strong arms engulfing me.
“Breathe, Rho. You’re going to slip into a panic attack.” Anson’s hands squeezed my shoulders. “Follow me. In for four.”
He waited as I attempted to follow.
“Hold for seven.”
Trying to lock my breaths down felt like swallowing fire, but I battled to do it anyway.
“Now, out for eight.”
He walked me through it four more times, squeezing my shoulders with each count. Slowly, I came back to myself, bit by bit. I pulled back, taking in Anson’s worried face.
He brushed some hair out of my face, his fingers lingering in the strands. “How do you feel?”
“Okay,” I rasped. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”
Even in the dark, I saw the shadow of something pass over Anson’s eyes.
“I’ve known people who suffer from anxiety attacks. Sometimes, that breathing technique helps.”
I studied him for a long moment. There was so much more to Anson than I knew. Because the man I’d seen didn’t let anyone in. So, who had he known well enough to help them with panic attacks?
“Well, it clearly works,” I said, pulling my knees up to my chest.
Anson’s fingers stroked up and down my arm. “You wanna talk about it?”
I dropped my chin to my knees as I gripped my legs tighter. “It was the fire again. But different. Usually, I’m a kid, but I was an adult this time. Emilia was screaming. So scared. And I was trying to get to her, but there were flames everywhere. Burning me.”
Anson leaned into me then, his face going to the crook of my neck as if he, too, needed reassurance that I was all right. I leaned into him, soaking in his strength and the fact that I wasn’t alone. His fingers trailed up and down my spine through the thin cotton of my nightgown. “The fire stirred everything up.”
I nodded against him. “It always does. Even if it’s just a wildfire in the summer, I always have a hard time sleeping after. The scents, the sirens, it brings it all back.”
“You’re so fucking strong,” Anson whispered against my skin.
“I don’t feel that way,” I admitted. “I feel weak. Like the guilt could eat me alive. Why didn’t I hear the fire alarm earlier? Why didn’t I try harder to get to them?”
“Rho,” Anson croaked, pulling back. “Do you think they would’ve been okay losing you for a chance to get out?”
Tears brimmed in my eyes, spilling over and tracking down my cheeks. “No. But sometimes, I wish they hadn’t left me behind.”
Anson pulled back, his hands cupping my face and raising it off my knees. His roughened thumbs swept across my cheeks, clearing away the tears. “Sometimes, being the one who’s left behind is the heaviest weight. But it doesn’t mean you stop fighting.”
I stared into those blue-gray eyes. There was pain there. Not just because I was hurting but because he truly understood. And I knew then that he’d been there. “Anson,” I croaked.
Agony streaked across those beautiful eyes. “I lost my little sister. My fault. Might not have dealt the death blow, but it was on me just the same. Worst pain imaginable. Would giveanythingto take her place.”
Oh, God.
We were so different. Vibrant color and shades of gray. Bursting blooms and the darkest night.
But we were also the same. Older sibling to someone we’d lost, someone we always wanted to protect. We carried the scars of that. And we were both doing our best to make it through.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered into the dark. The words weren’t enough, not even close, but they were all I had to give to him. Those and one more thing. “She wouldn’t want you to trade places with her.”
Blue flashed in Anson’s irises. “You didn’t even know her.”
