by Melony Ann
I swallow and shake my head. A lump forms instantly in my throat and I fight back tears. “Nothing.”
“Mariah.” He reaches out a hand and touches my arm. It instantly soothes me and that scares the hell out of me.
I’m not doing this. I can’t. I won’t. I will never get close to a man again.
“I’m fine. I have a blanket and pillows until the stuff I ordered gets here.”
“Let me at least bring you an air mattress.”
I pull my arm away and walk to my bedroom. “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. I trust you can show yourself out.”
I snap at him and instantly feel bad about it, but I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I don’t want him to see that. I need to be alone. Finally, he moves to the door.
“I’m just across the hall, Mariah. If you need me, don’t hesitate.”
I wait until the door closes before I burst into tears again. I grab my pillows and blankets and make a makeshift bed that I curl up in.
My mind immediately goes crazy thinking of everything all at once. I’m divorced. I’m starting completely over in a completely new town. I don’t know anyone. There’s no way I’ll succeed on my own. I’ve never been totally alone before. Even though I got where I am on my own, I’ve never been totally alone.
I can’t do this.
My chest tightens and I fight to breathe as I curl up on the floor in my new bedroom. I reach for my phone and start texting my best friend. She’s the only one who has ever been able to talk me down. She has anxiety herself and knows how to deal with me and my panic attacks. She knows how to get me out of my head.
Despite the constant texting, messaging, and talking, I can’t calm down.
My mind continues to race long into the night and I fight wave after wave of nausea. Panic attack after panic attack until I feel like I won’t make it through the night.
This was a mistake.
A big mistake.
I’ll never be able to do this on my own.
I am thirty-eight and I have never been able to survive on my own. I’ve always had help. I’ve always had someone to lean on. I have no one here. All I have is a phone connecting me to the one person who has ever had hope for me and confidence in me.
But she was wrong. I am failing her right now. I’m failing everyone.
Chapter Two - Matt
I’ve been lying in bed for hours unable to sleep. I can’t get Mariah’s beautiful golden hazel eyes out of my head. I loved how they looked like such a deep blue one second and then green the next. Just as soon as I thought I figured them out, they turned grey with these incredible gold flecks. Her sexy smile won’t leave me alone. Her incredible mystery both intrigued and threw me into a rollercoaster ride of confusion.
I know she’s hiding something. I felt it when I first saw her crying. I had been passing by on my usual patrol when I saw her hunched over her steering wheel. At first, I thought maybe she’d passed out behind the wheel. It wasn’t until after I pulled up behind her and walked to her window that I saw her entire body shaking with uncontrollable sobs.
When she looked at me, tears streaking her face, my heart broke for her.
I’d already run her plate when I pulled up. I knew her name. Her age. It wasn’t until after I left her alone in her apartment that I had decided I needed to know more about her. So I kicked DJ, Brett and my sister out. I drove back to Headquarters and ran a check on her. I didn’t have much to go on, but I found out she’d been married. Maybe twice. Her maiden name wasn’t Carter.
It was Kirchoff. After that it had been Brinsley. And now it was Carter. I’d decided to run a check on marriage licenses for her, but my Captain had come in. I didn’t want to get caught running unauthorized shit, so I went home with more questions about this girl than answers.
Regardless. She’s beautiful and I can’t get her out of my head. I’d only gotten her to share a little bit with me, but she did say she’s a writer. Must be unpublished, though, because I can’t find shit she’s written anywhere. Under any of her names.
I growl at my thoughts, willing them away so I can at least attempt to sleep, but the Gods above are not on my side. I hear a knock on my door.
Glancing at the clock, I growl again. Who the fuck could possibly think it’s a good idea to show up here at three in the morning?
I don’t bother with a shirt, but I do throw a pair of sweats on. I might be pissed off, but I have a little dignity at the very least.
I open my door a little more forcefully than I intended and see Mariah standing on the other side. She’s crying and looks like she’s fighting to breathe as she hugs herself in the hallway. Her skimpy short blue shorts and barely there tank top do unthinkable things to me and I force myself to focus on anything other than how her pajamas hug her every curve and leave nothing about her cup size to the imagination.
“Holy shit. What happened? Are you okay?” I let my cop instincts take over, and I quickly look down each side of the hallway looking for anyone who could have hurt her.
She shakes her head as she lets out a sob and then covers her mouth to try and hold back another one as she attempts a few deep breaths. She fails miserably.
“Mariah, what happened?” I had been fighting against pulling her inside, but I give up. I gently take her hand and tug her into my apartment.
“I…”
I close the door, keeping her hand in mine. She’s gripping it so tightly that I’m convinced she’s afraid she’ll drown if she lets go. Letting her keep her grip on my hand, I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, leaving my hand on her cheek. I look deeply into her eyes trying to will her to trust me. Her beautiful golden hazel eyes are wild and unfocused. They’re darting around like she’s expecting a demon to jump out and attack her at any second.
“Mariah…”
She sniffles and continues to try and hold back her sobs. All at once I realize she’s in the midst of the worst fucking panic attack I’ve ever seen. “What the fuck happened to you, honey?”
“Matt?” My eight-year-old niece pops out of my guest bedroom. I glance at her, but keep focused on Mariah. “Are you going to work?”
“No. It’s okay, sweetie. Go back to bed.”
“I’m thirsty.”
“Go get some water from the bathroom and go back to bed, Brit.” She hurries to the bathroom. I hear the water running and a few moments later, Brit sleepily walks back to the room.
“Mariah. Honey, look at me. Focus on me. Come on. You can do it.”
“I… shouldn’t have bothered… you.” She’s near hyperventilation.
“I told you if you needed me, I’m here. I meant it.” Letting her keep a hold of my hand, I walk her to my bedroom. She hesitates, so I look down at her.
“I don’t want to wake the girls. The bathroom is between my room and theirs so if you need to cry you can without the fear of waking them up. You can trust me, Mariah. I just want to help you.”
She nods as I lead her to my bed, closing the door behind us. I sit and tug her down next to me. Her death grip on my hand has only managed to get tighter. I’d let her break it if that’s what she needs right now.
With my free hand, I tuck her hair behind her ear once more. I keep my voice low and as calming as I possibly can. “Talk to me. I want to help, but I can’t do that if you don’t talk to me. Tell me what you need from me right now.”
“I can’t… calm down.”
“Mariah, tell me what you need. Please?”
“I’m having… a panic attack. It… won’t stop.”
“I know you’re having a panic attack, honey. What I don’t know is what you need from me.”
She shakes her head again and starts sobbing. “I don’t know.”
She hides her face in her free hand and I make a decision. Unlike most people I’ve seen having a panic attack, she seems to need closeness.
“Okay.” I crawl into my bed and pull her in next to me. I gently untangle her death grip on m
y hand so I can hold her tightly and with both arms. She releases her grip on my hand and immediately finds anything else she can grab onto. I’m not wearing a shirt so she grabs the waistband of my sweats.
“Shit.” I whisper the word into her hair as I inhale sharply. She’s dangerously close to grabbing my cock, but I force myself to ignore my body’s immediate and physical reaction to her. Now is not the time.
“Mariah. Listen to me.” I whisper the words in her ear. “I want you to focus on me, sweetheart. Focus on my breathing. Can you do that for me?”
She nods. Her long, chestnut brown hair smells like coconut. And her silky-smooth skin smells like lavender. “Take deep breaths with me.”
“I… can’t. I can’t.”
“Shh…. You can. Ready?” I take a deep breath as I run my fingers through her hair. She tries to, but it’s shaky.
“I can’t.”
“Shh…. You can, honey. Focus on me. Just me. Another breath.” I take another deep breath. She inhales, but coughs. I hug her as tightly as I can against me.
“Can’t.”
“You can, honey. Feel me. Feel me breathing. Breathe with me. We’re doing this together, okay? You and me.”
She puts her head against my chest. “You and me.”
“You and me, Mariah. Feel me breathing and breathe with me.”
She shakily let’s go of the waistband of my sweats and softly moves her hand up to my chest. I keep my breathing steady for her. I know she needs it.
“Distract me.”
I smile into her hair. “I can think of a lot of ways to distract you, and none of them are appropriate.”
She gives me a shaky chuckle. “Tell me a story.”
I feel her start to relax as I hold her tightly to me. “Once upon a time there was a princess named Jasmine.”
“Aladdin is one of my favorite Disney fairy tales, but I meant like a funny story. Something that happened to you on patrol or something.”
I chuckle into her hair as I continue running my fingers through it. She continues becoming calmer. “I know what you meant.”
Her shaky hand on my chest snakes around my waist. “Improvement.”
She chuckles and shifts so she’s as close to me as she can get. “A little. Please tell me a story?”
“Three years ago, I was on patrol. I got a call about a fight that had broken out a few streets down from where I was. I took the call. A couple other squads responded. When we got there, there were a ton of kids in the street. Ten. Maybe twelve. All covered in different colored paints. Blue. Green. Purple. Red. You name it. They were having a paint balloon fight. The person who called it in was an older lady. Hated noise.”
“Sounds right.”
I tangle my fingers in her hair and start comfortingly rubbing her neck. “Yeah, she’s the neighborhood complainer. As my partner, DJ, was talking to her, a couple other cops including myself had joined in with the kids. Next thing DJ knows, we had turned everyone against him. Every single one of us threw a balloon in his direction. He got hit maybe ten times. The woman who called went ballistic because some of the spray from the balloons exploding against his back hit her.”
She chuckles again as her breathing continues to regulate.
“She made a complaint against the three of us. The Chief of Police, instead of reprimanding us, took our dash cam videos and used it as community police training. Which means-”
“Police and the community building a partnership. In simple terms.”
I look at her, a little surprised. “Yeah, exactly.”
“I went to school for Law Enforcement. I have a Master’s in Criminal Justice with a corrections concentration. I also have a Bachelor’s in both Legal Studies and Criminal Justice and my AA in Law Enforcement. And just because I’m not complex enough, I threw a diploma in Broadcasting in because I felt like it.”
“Wow. That’s… truly amazing. And you’re a writer?”
I feel her smile against my chest. “Of romance novels. Go figure, right? By the time I graduated and did my internship, I was so turned off to Law Enforcement in general. Not because I hate the profession. It’s just that I wanted to feel like I was doing more to help people. All I felt was that I would be showing up to the same house over and over again and no one would really be getting helped. I wanted more. And the idea of being a cop sent anxiety I didn’t even really know I had into overdrive. I mean, I knew I had it. But I’d always been able to fight it. The older I got, the less I was able to fight. And the more weak and childish I feel.”
“That doesn’t make you weak or childish. You fighting through this makes you strong as hell.”
I can feel her smile against my chest. “Thank you for saying that.”
I hug her a little tighter. “What about your writing? Are you published?”
“I have a couple of books out. Under my first and middle name. Mariah Marie.”
That explains why I couldn’t find her. I’ll have to look her books up.
She takes a deep breath and tries to sit up, but my arms tighten around her. “I know you aren’t ready for me to let go. You’re still shaky, Mariah.”
“I’ll be okay. Really. I’m so sorry I bothered you.”
“Stop. Stop. I’m not letting you go until I’m confident you’ll be okay. And right now, I know you won’t be. I can feel how freaked out you are. I know if I let you go, it’ll send you right back into another one.”
I’m far more in tune to her than I care to admit, but I’m not kidding around. If I’m what she needs to calm down, so be it.
“Why are you being so nice to me? You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t need to know you to know you need me. I know I’m your anchor right now. So forget about getting up. Maybe in the morning you’ll trust me enough to tell me what happened to you, honey. For now, just relax. Keep feeling me breathe and breathe with me.” She does what I tell her to.
“Good girl. We’re getting through this night, okay? You aren’t alone. It’s you and me, honey.”
She slowly nods and then whispers to me. “You and me.”
I rub my hand slowly up and down her back and keep my other tangled in her satiny hair. Her breathing begins to even out and I feel the very moment she falls asleep safe in my arms. I don’t know what the fuck happened to this girl, but no fucking way is it every going to happen again. Not on my watch.
Exhausted after Mariah finally falls asleep, I close my eyes and fall asleep right after her, still holding her tightly in my arms.
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Acknowledgements
Writing has always been my outlet and my dream. Now it’s becoming a reality and I have some people to thank for that.
DJ - Thanks for being my best friend.
Brad - Thanks for loving me in ways I never dreamed possible. You are, and always will be, the love of my life. I truly love you.
Laura - The sunshine that brightens my day. My heart. I truly love you.
Dan Rengering - Not only are you an awesome cover model, but you’re an incredible person and amazing defender of me and other authors in this community. Thanks for being a part of this and giving me the courage to publish.
Jean and Mary - You both have become incredible friends. I appreciate the both of you more than you know, and thanks for all the advice you’ve given and friendship you’ve shown me!
Team Melony - As always, you all keep me going on days I simply don’t think anyone likes my stories. Your support and your unwavering friendship keep me going.
My ARC Group - Thank you all so much for being in my corner all the time!
> Derek - My Batman. I love you. That is all.
Mom - Supermom. Thanks for being there for me through everything. I love you!
Katie, Jennifer, and Nicole - Thanks for being the sisters I got to choose. I love you!
Gram - You give me strength to stand on my own.
Brian - You’ve always been my beacon in rough waters guiding me to a safe harbor. I love you, and thanks for always being here for me. Even when I’m a brat.
To my family and those I may have missed - You are all loved, and I can't thank you enough for being here for me!
Cover by Heather Ashley
Cover model - Dan Rengering
Photographer - Jean Woodfin of JW Photography
About Melony Ann
I’m a beautiful mess with some anxiety thrown in. I’ve been through some craziness in my life and I’m trying to come out on the other side a better human. I gave up everything once and I’m trying to get it back one book at a time.
Writing is my outlet. It’s something I enjoy doing, but it also helps me stay calm or calm down when I need to.
I’ve been a writer for what feels like my entire life. It’s so easy to escape into a land of books. I hope you all enjoy my writing and may they help you through chaotic times.
