Breathe You In (Sweet Torment 1)

“We should be talking about you then. Shouldn’t we, Amy?” He grinned, and my windpipe closed.

Pulling back, he took another drink, and I felt the urge to cross my arms over my chest and become as small as possible, as small as I felt at that moment.

Years ago, after a particularly horrible talk with my mother, I’d broken down and told Warren everything. My part in Lauren’s death, and how I could have saved her. How I should have taken her to the

hospital instead of home.

That it was my fault she had died…

Instead of consoling me, he’d affirmed what my mother already thought and what I was fighting:

I’m a terrible person.

“Having a nice time?” Roman’s deep voice asked from behind me. His palm rested on the curve between my neck and shoulder, and I felt instantly comforted, as though my muscles had received a fresh dose of strength.

“Yes, sir.” Warren smiled and shook Roman’s free hand. “Looking forward to next term.”

I glanced up at Roman, who pulled me a little closer. “Indeed.”

“I hear you have a strong campaign going this year, but the competition seems pretty solid. Going to be a tight race, eh, Governor?” Warren said, all cocky attitude.

Roman didn’t seem impressed, and I couldn’t blame him. There was nothing impressive about Warren other than his bank account, and frankly, that only mattered to some. I wasn’t one of them.

“I see you’ve met my girlfriend,” Roman said, and gave me a gentle yet possessive squeeze.

Warren’s eyes widened. Apparently he either hadn’t believed me, or had figured I was just a one night date, and the word girlfriend caught him off guard.

“Wow.” He took a step back. “Girlfriend? That’s…” Warren frowned. Either the liquor or his lack of brain cells was getting to him.

“How do you two know each other?” A rough edge tinted Roman’s question.

“We went to college together,” I offered quickly, not interested in explaining the embarrassing details. Warren, however, managed to gather his wits and correct me in typical asshole fashion.

“Dated in college,” he amended with a disgusting smile.

Roman’s entire body tensed, and the energy crackling between him and Warren instantly shifted to something very unnerving. My blood pressure was high and my skin felt too tight for my bones. I forced myself to take calming breaths, trying to ward off the anxiety.

“Is that right?” Roman looked at me. “Small world.”

“We were just catching up,” Warren continued. “Chatting about her family. Her sister.”

I swallowed hard and folded my lips together briefly, trying to keep the nervousness and discomfort down. A cold sweat lined my brow, but my cheeks were so hot I was afraid I might pass out. My pulse was increasing, getting louder and louder, until I could barely hear anything else. I was on the brink of having a panic attack—I felt it rising in me, like a hungry monster rousing from sleep.

I tried again to take a steady breath through my nose, but it wasn’t helping. Roman’s arm encircled my waist, and it wasn’t until I felt his strong hold that I realized I’d been swaying.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” he said softly.

I blinked several times, but the blur wouldn’t clear.

“I just need a moment,” I breathed, barely hearing my own words over the crashing blood in my head.

Roman didn’t bother with niceties or pretend to acknowledge Warren any further. He just ushered me through the crowd quickly, until we reached a quiet hallway. As soon as I saw the stairs that led to Roman’s room, the dam broke. I couldn’t hold back the panic anymore.

My breath shot from my lungs and intense heaving knocked me forward. Roman caught me just has my knees buckled, saving me from hitting the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep from hyperventilating.

Tears spilled from my eyes. My legs shook, and I clung to Roman’s arm.

“Amy…Amy, sweetheart, look at me.”