“Your face, your hands, my coat, the tiles.”
I knew the next step. I used that technique before, and although it always worked to some extent, Thomas’s presence pulled me out of the panic attack faster than any grounding technique out there.
“Three things you can hear.”
I kept my eyes glued on my brother’s ashen face when I listened for sounds other than the fastened heartbeats… mine and Thomas’s.
“Your voice. A kettle. The TV.”
“You’re okay, baby doll,” Thomas said, his voice calmer. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
I closed my eyes for five more breaths.
“I’m sorry.”
Thomas didn’t let me wriggle out of his embrace, his hold on me tightened when I tried to move.
“Not yet. Not until you stop shaking.”
Amelia crouched in front of me with a cup of steaming tea.
“Peppermint,” she said. “Are you feeling better?”
“No.”
I tore my hands out of Thomas’s grip at a sudden onset of nausea when I got another whiff of Nick’s cologne—the same one Adrian used for the past four months. The same one he wore the night he relapsed. Amelia bought a bottle of cologne for Nick when we went out shopping on Sunday, but I had no idea it wasthatcologne. Otherwise I would have told her to choose something else.
Smell was the worst one of my triggers.
“I feel sick.” I looked at Nick, covering my mouth. “Can you please change? You smell like Adrian.”
His eyes grew wide. He opened his mouth to speak, but another wave of nausea hit me hard. I scrambled to my feet and rushed upstairs, as fast as my feeble legs allowed. The memories sucked me in too deep and blurred the line that distinguished them from reality, throwing my body off track.
A coffee and two toasts I had for breakfast came back the moment I leaned over the toilet. Thomas entered the room right behind me. He gathered my hair, holding it back.
“Get her a glass of water,” he told Nick or Mel.
Mel, probably, since I couldn’t smell Adrian anymore. I flushed the toilet, and hoisted myself up, holding onto the sink to wash my face. Thomas turned on the shower, messing with the water temperature setting for a moment. He gripped the hem of my sweater to help me undress, but I stopped him before he could pull it over my head.
“Leave, Thomas, I’ll help her.” Amelia came back with water.
Thomas’s jaw clenched, his eyes not leaving my face while mine looked everywhere but his face.
“Shout me if you need me.”
“I think I can manage,” I said, and urged both of them to leave.
Turns out I was wrong. Thomas closed the door behind them, and I almost collapsed to the floor when I tried to undress. My legs felt like jelly, so instead of standing under the shower head, I sat down in the bath, letting the water run down my back.
Negative emotions faded, but no positive ones took their place. Emptiness was all that remained.
CHAPTER 14
THOMAS
Tranquiliser
A cloud of smoke hung in the air. Wind was absent, the dark sky starless and the lake like a giant mirror. The calm, quiet night didn’t fit the picture. It mocked the tension and chaos of the last twenty minutes.