Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

My breath comes fast now and my ears start to ring. This isn’t happening. Not again.

I try to focus on finding somewhere to hide but can’t move my feet. I’m breathing hard now, my heart racing in my chest and pounding in my ears. My muscles start to feel weak and I crumple toward the floor in slow motion, landing in a heap between the kitchen cabinets. I scramble backward until my back crashes against a cupboard door.

I flinch at each pounding sound on the door and cover my ears, hiding my face in my knees. My hands grasp at the sides of my head and my fingers dig into my hair, knocking the chopstick loose. I don’t even hear it clatter to the floor, my desperate gasps and the ringing in my ears drowning out the sound. The pounding at the door sounds farther away now, as if I’m deep under water.

I gasp for breath as I sit there, shaking, my stomach roiling and sweat gathering on my forehead. The room spins around me. I feel like I’m going to die.

24

JUDE

I glance at the bag of groceries on the front seat and smile to myself, running a hand over my beard. I’ve been gone maybe twenty minutes and I’m already desperate to get back to her. Memories from last night flood me: Olena’s incredible body writhing in my bed, her moans of pleasure as she came over and over again, the taste of her… I have to take a deep breath to keep concentrating on the road. I can’t wait to wake her up with breakfast, then spend a lazy day together in bed.

I glance in the rear-view mirror as Murphy pushes up from the back seat, turns around, and lies back down. I smirk to myself; it’s like he wrote the damned instruction manual for how to nap.

As I pull into the driveway, I see a familiar car parked at a strange angle and my thoughts ice over. I’m instantly on alert.

He can’t be here. What’s he doing here? A sinking sensation hits me when the front porch comes into view. Miles is pounding hard on the door. I slam on the brakes and turn off the truck—forgetting the groceries, forgetting my plans for breakfast with Olena—and leap out to face my brother. I jog to the porch as he beats his fist on the door again, calling my name, the booming racket he’s making cutting through the quiet of the forest that surrounds us.

“Miles!”

He doesn’t seem to hear me over his pounding and hollering. I stop at the foot of the porch steps as he bends down, pulling up the doormat, presumably hunting for the spare key our parents used to keep hidden there.

“Miles!” I try again as I climb the steps. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He looks up at me and staggers to a standing position, swaying a bit as he catches his balance. His glassy eyes and the smell of his breath tell me what I already know: he’s drunk.

“Juuuuuude! My bro!” He looks happy to see me, spreading his arms and coming at me for a hug.

I shove him back. “Dude, no.”

He looks surprised by my reaction. “Whoa, man, what the fuck?”

“What are you doing here? When did you get back into town?” I pin him with a glare.

“I’m here to see my best brother, of course!” He chucks a light punch at my shoulder, trying to play it off like a joke that he’s shown up here unannounced. Again.

“You’re wasted. It’s nine in the morning, Miles, Jesus.” I rub my head.

“Wasted? Nah! Okay, maybe I had a little fancy breakfast coffee this morning…” His eyes are smiling but he looks pitiful. He looks older than he should, the bags under his eyes revealing this likely isn’t a one-off slip.

Then, I realize: Olena’s been inside this whole time, with a stranger practically beating down the door. Shit.

Kicking myself, I unlock the door as fast as I can and swing it open with a crash. I find her huddled in a corner of the kitchen, her head in her hands, sobbing and gasping for breath. I drop to the floor and pull her into my arms.

“Shhh,” I say, stroking her hair and squeezing her tight against me. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

“Ohhh, shit, I didn’t know you had a lady friend here. Niiiice,” says Miles from the open doorway.

I turn and scowl at him, hoping he’s not too drunk to read the I will end you look on my face. “Get the fuck back outside. I’ll deal with you later,” I bark at him.

He raises his arms and mouths a dramatic yikes, then turns and staggers back onto the porch. I watch through the window as he collapses onto the bench outside, resting his head against the glass.

Olena is still gasping in my arms, so I pull back and try to get her to focus on me. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s shaking. I rack my brain, trying to think of what to do. Miles used to have panic attacks when we were younger, after Mom and Dad died. I try to remember what was helpful for him all those years ago.

“I’m going to pick you up and take you back to my room,” I tell her. I scoop her up and carry her there, sitting her down on the edge of the bed. Crouching in front of her, I squeeze her hands.

“Olena,” I say softly. “Olena, look at me.” I brush my thumbs over her flushed, wet cheeks and try again. “Olena. Look at me. Breathe with me.” She raises her tear-streaked face to mine and meets my gaze, breath shuddering. “Breathe. Just breathe.” I breathe slow and steady, pulling her forehead against mine, until her breath evens out to match my own. We stay like that for another minute until I’m sure she’s coming down the other side of it. I pull the rumpled blanket from behind her and wrap it around her shoulders like a cocoon.