I roll my head back and look up. Ellis’s brows are drawn, and his lips are pressed into a hard, thin line.Why’s he upset with me?
“You’re having a panic attack.” He moves his hand from my cheek to cradle the back of my head. “I want to help you—can I help you?”
I blink, and he settles himself on the edge of the tub.
“Remember on the phone. Five things you can see. Let’s go.”
“I can see you,” I whisper, hoping the water from the shower at least hides my tears. “And the bathmat.”
His fingers flex against my scalp. “Keep going.”
I rattle off a few more things.
“What can you feel, Scar?” He holds up four fingers, lowering one for each thing I name.
“You,” I whisper. “Your ring.” I suck in a stuttering breath. “The water. The tile.”
“You’re doing great.” He’s lying. I know he is. I’m a mess and wish like hell a hole would open up in this tub and swallow me whole. “What can you hear?”
I strain my ears, listening for anything other than his voice and the sound of my heart whooshing in my ears. “The tv. Um…”
“Keep going, Scarlet. Two more things.”
“You breathing and…” I work my way through the rest of the exercise, all the while trying to fight off the mortification burning through me at the thought of Ellis seeing me like this.
Will he think I’m pathetic?Of course he will, the insidious voice in my head whispers,who wouldn’t?
My entire body shakes as the temperature of the room cools the water coating my skin.
“We need to get you out of here, okay? You’re freezing.”
“Oh-okay,” I say, my teeth clacking together.
“Do you think… do you think you can stand up on your own?”
I glance up at Ellis, half expecting to see judgment on his face, but there’s none to be found. If anything, he's looking at me like he understands.
Which I guess makes sense, because I’m sure he saw some shit while working as a cop.
“I think so,” I say, as I try to push myself up, only to immediately lose my footing on the wet tile floor and fall back, smacking my head against the wall of the shower—again.
“Fuck, Scar. Are you okay?” Worry paints his every word
I shrug, and the towel slips a little.
“Can I help you?” he asks, suddenly sounding unsure.
My pride's already in the toilet, so what's it matter at this point? “Sure.”
Ellis momentarily hesitates before sliding one arm around my shoulder. “Gonna reach under you,” is all the warning I get before he has me cradled against his chest, lifting me out of the tub, as if I weigh nothing at all.
He lowers me to the floor, and I immediately push my toes into the soft bath mat, gripping his shoulders for balance while simultaneously squeezing my arms against my body to hold the towel in place.
“You good?” he asks, his voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it, like sandpaper against my chilled skin.
“Yeah, um... I'm good. Thank you.” I focus my gaze on my pink polished toes, refusing to look at him. “If… if it’s okay, I just want to dry off and get dressed.”
“Of course,” he says.