Keeping one arm resting on the small tray attached to the chair, I extend my free hand toward him. Surprise flickers in his eyes, but he quickly straightens and takes my hand. His palm is warm against mine as he laces our fingers together.
He carries my gaze. “Are you okay?”
My pulse is deafening inside my body, pleading to stay strong and bear through this.
I nod shakily, then before I can back out, Owen enters the room. He’s around mine and Ellis’s age with brown hair, and he’s wearing a white lab coat. I met him for a second when he brought us back to this room, and like then, he offers me a small smile.
“Are you ready to do this, Ava?” he asks me as he slips on a pair of latex gloves.
“No, but I’m going to do it anyway,” I reply truthfully, gripping onto Ellis' hand.
Owen’s gaze travels to our interlocked fingers, and a curiosity briefly flashes across his face. However, that disappears as he enters professional mode.
A few slamming heartbeats later, the needle pierces my skin. I clutch onto Ellis’ hand, probably too tightly, but he shows no visible signs of being in pain. I’d probably be more worried about it, but all I can focus on right now is not having a full-on panic attack. It’s not just from the needle in my arm. It’s from the memories pounding against my mind.
“Shh…” the man whispers in my ear. “Just let it happen.”
“Stop fighting me,” the same man whispers. “You know you’ll never win.”
“Why do you always make me do this?” The woman’s voice sounds like my mother’s.
I gasp as I forcefully yank myself away from the memories. I’m beyond embarrassed when I note that Owen and Ellis are staring at me with concern.
“It’s okay,” Ellis quickly says as he gently squeezes my hand. “Just breathe through it.”
Air in…
Air out…
In…
Out…
Just breathe, Ava.
Eventually, I calm down. By then, Owen has removed his gloves and is washing his hands. Once he's finished, he asks me if I’m okay. When I nod, he turns to Ellis.
“I’ll try to get the results for you by the end of the day,” he tells him as he slips off his gloves. “I’m going to run them myself. That’s not how we normally do it, but considering the circumstances and some of the things you told me over the phone, I think it’s best if we keep this between us three.”
“Thank you,” Ellis tells him.
With a nod, Owen leaves the room with my blood sample.
Ellis fixes his attention on me then. “How are you doing?”
“I’m a little lightheaded.” I glance down at the pink tape Owen wrapped around my arm. “How long do I have to keep this on? It’s making my arm numb.”
“Ten minutes.” Still holding my hand, he pushes to his feet. “Let’s go get you a drink and a snack. It might help with the lightheadedness.”
I allow him to pull me to my feet, ignoring the dizziness swimming in my mind. We make our way out of the doctor’soffice and to his vehicle. Ellis helps me the entire way. The cool air feels good against my skin, and I breathe it in as we make our way to the SUV.
By the time Ellis is opening the door for me, I feel it again, this feeling of being watched. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and my gaze instinctively scans the parking lot around us. Like this morning, I don’t expect to find anything. But I do.
Standing beside a truck with tinted windows is a dark-haired man sporting a T-shirt and jeans.
Jason.
Fuck.
