Oh, god. I didn’t anticipate how small of a space it would be. Panic wraps its clutches around me, immobilizing me with fear.
I can’t do this. I can’t.
“I’ll go first, and we’ll help each other up until everyone is in,” Vito announces. He easily climbs into the duct, his body disappearing in seconds.
My lungs burn as I hold my breath and watch Quinton gesture for Ren to go next. Shit. It’s almost my turn. My hands tremble, and black dots appear over my vision. Head swimming, I try to breathe through the panic, but it’s no good. It just sinks its claws deeper into my skin.
Aspen. I briefly hear my name being called, but it’s like I’m trapped beneath water and unable to respond. I look up from my hands and find Quinton standing in front of me. Was he always this close? His lips are moving, but again, I hear nothing, not a single word. I try to decipher what he’s saying, but I can’t.
Something cold and wet slides down my cheek. Am I crying? Fear and concern etch deep into the contours of Quinton’s face. He cups me by the cheeks and draws my face to his using both hands.
Nose to nose, chest to chest. I can feel his hammering heartbeat and see the passion and care for me in his eyes. He’ll never let anything happen to me again, he promised.
I can read the word breathe on his lips as he speaks, saying it over and over again until, eventually, his deep voice rumbles through the fog and into my ears. As soon as I’m free from the panic attack, I wrap my arms around him and crash my lips against his.
Shock ripples through me when he kisses me back. Heat blossoms in my belly, crackling, and for a moment, we’re suspended in time. We aren’t hiding what we share or what happened. We aren’t surviving. We’re us. Like all good things, it comes to an end, and the bubble pops, bringing us back to the present.
A soft sigh escapes my lips as Quinton breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against mine.
“We have to go, Aspen.” His voice comes out almost painful.
“I know,” I whisper back, wishing we could stay like this forever.
One second later, Quinton is pulling away completely. My insides churn when I look up at the open duct. I’m afraid, but I’m more afraid of dying in this school. Building up the courage and pushing the impending fear down, I climb onto the chair. I look back down at Quinton, and he gives me a half-smile.
“You can do it,” he encourages, and I nod.
I look back up at the air duct and find Ren peering out of the hole, his hand extended toward me. He grins like an evil villain, and still, I place my hand in his, knowing that I’ve never been safer in my entire life.
I hold my breath while I’m being pulled up into the air duct and release it when Ren lets go of my hand. I wiggle into the small space on my hands and knees, catching sight of a scrunched-up Vito in front of me, who is peering over his shoulder.
Panic pricks at the back of my mind, so I force myself to take slow, shallow breaths.
“Coming up!” Quinton yells, his voice clearing some of the fog circling my brain. You can do this. I repeat to myself, wishing like hell this was already over. I’ve never been afraid of small spaces, but I’m not surprised after what happened. Vito and I crawl forward a few feet to make room for Quinton and Ren.
“You good?” Vito shouts, and the sound echoes all around me.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Quinton replies, and I peer over my shoulder to find him directly behind me.
The sides of his lips raise into a soft smile, and the panic recedes an inch. Nothing’s going to happen. Everything is okay. Vito starts forward, and I do the same, counting backward from one-hundred in my mind, ignoring that the air duct seems to be closing in around me.
An eternity seems to pass, or maybe two, before anyone speaks again, and if I’m being honest, I’m not really sure how far we’ve traveled. Then I hear it, voices. Angry voices. Voices mean people, and people mean we can get out of this forsaken air duct.
“We’re getting close,” Vito announces.
I swallow down the lump of fear threatening to suffocate me and follow him. He moves a little faster now. The voices grow louder and louder, and when Vito stops altogether, I know we’ve made it.
“Back up a bit. I’m going to kick out the vent so we can get out of here,” he says. I crawl backward, giving him room so that he can roll over.
Once on his back, he uses his feet and the weight of his body to kick the vent open. One minute later, we’re climbing out of the vent. It’s about a five-foot drop, but anything is better than staying in the vent. I jump down right behind Vito. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I realize we’re in the castle's upper level, where they had the founders’ ball.