She stiffened. “You are not a freak simply because your parents want to make sure you’re safe.”
But I was. Everyone whispered. The girl whose sister had been kidnapped. The girl whose parents practically kept her locked in a bubble. The girl who never got invited to anything anymore because people had given up. Jenna was my only friend, but I could feel even that relationship waning. It was too hard for her.
I looked at both my parents. “I only have one friend because no one wants to put up with the insanity it takes. I have no life. It’s pathetic.”
“Hadley,” Dad warned. “You’re not pathetic. And you have a wonderful life. You ride horses, we go to the lake, go on hikes. That would be a pretty good life to some people.”
“But what about the lifeIwant? To go to a party. God, maybe even on a date. To ride the bus to away games like everyone else. But, no. All of those things are too dangerous.”
“Stop it.” My mom’s voice lashed out like a whip. “How can you be so selfish? You know what we went through with your sister.”
“Newsflash, Shiloh’s fine. It’s awful what happened to her, but it was eight years ago. Please don’t steal my life because of it.”
“Go to your room, right now,” my mother barked.
I turned on my heel and ran. But not upstairs. I went out the front door. The house walls felt too claustrophobic, my parents bearing down, everything closing in around me. I tried to suck in air as the door slammed behind me. But I couldn’t seem to get my lungs to obey.
I started towards the paddocks as tears streamed down my cheeks, and I willed my lungs to cooperate. As I rounded the corner of the barn, I collided with a solid form.
Hands encircled my arms to steady me. “Shit, Hads. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
I tried to get out my own apology, but no words came. The fact that I was struggling to find my voice only made it harder to breathe.
“Hads? What’s wrong?” There was a slight panic to Calder’s voice. “Want me to get your mom and dad? Hayes?”
I shook my head quickly, but the movement was jerky. I didn’t want my older brother, and I certainly didn’t want my parents.
“Okay. I won’t get them, but I need you to slow your breathing, okay? You’re going to pass out.”
He would know the facts about that. While my two older brothers had gone to college, Calder had only had eyes for the fire department. He’d done both fire school and EMT training but opted to focus on being a firefighter.
He guided me towards a bale of hay and eased me down onto it. “I’m going to count. Just follow me. In for one, two, three. Out for one, two, three.”
My lungs burned as I struggled to hold the inhale and exhale for his counts. Then he upped the count to five. Then eight. Then back down to five again. I couldn’t figure out the rhyme or reason for the pattern, but the burn slowly receded, and it no longer felt as if my rib cage was crushing my lungs.
“Thank you,” I croaked.
Calder’s dark eyes searched my face as he stayed crouched in front of me. “What brought this on?”
I stared down at my boots, thankful the darkness would hide the worst of my splotchy face. “Fight with Mom and Dad.”
“About?”
“Having a life. What else?”
Calder pushed up and leaned against the fence. “You know they went through a lot when Shiloh was kidnapped. It’s hard for them to loosen the reins now that you’re all home and safe.”
“It’s been eight years. Am I really supposed to give up everything because of it? I have no one because there isn’t a soul who’s willing to put up with my parents. And, sometimes, it’s just too much. I just want a little normal. I want to be able to breathe. To feelalive. Just once.”
He stared at me for a few moments and then pulled out his phone, tapping a couple of buttons. “Hey, Gabe, it’s Calder.” Pause. “I’ve got Hads with me.”
I stiffened at that. If he told my dad where I was right now, I’d knee him in the nuts.
“Yeah. Listen, can I take her to blow off some steam for a bit? I’ll be with her the whole time.” Calder chuckled. “No, I think I’m a little old for high school parties. I’m just gonna take her for a drive.” Silence. “I’ll call if we’ll be later than ten-thirty.”
He hung up and then slid his phone into his pocket. “Let’s go.”
I scowled at him. “You know you were in high school three years ago. It’s not like you’re forty.”