The Secret (North Woods University 3)

I try to dig my heels into the ground and pull my arm out of his grasp, but he’s too strong, and easily overpowers me. This can’t be happening. He practically picks me up and carries me outside the rest of the way. I know I should scream, but nothing makes it past the huge knot in my throat.

By the time we’re outside in the back alley, I’m experiencing a full-blown panic attack. I can’t speak, can’t breathe, and then my vision starts to blur. I clutch a hand to my chest, trying to swallow it all down, but I can’t. There’s too much. All I can feel is my heart beating out of my chest.

“Shit, I’m sorry, okay? Please calm down, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The mystery man’s voice sounds close, but somehow far away too, like he’s speaking through a tunnel.

“Seriously, I’m sorry… fuck… shit, okay, take a deep breath,” he orders, obviously not realize that’s what I’m trying to do.

“You need to breathe,” he says again, his voice taking on a much calmer tone.

I feel his hands on me now, one on my upper arm and one on my lower back. His touch is gentle, not sexual in any way, but I can’t help but be scared of it, nonetheless. My body never reacts to touch well, and his is no different. I want him to stop. I need him to take his hands off of me, but I can’t get the words out.

Like a fish out of water, I gasp for air, then the whole situation gets even worse. My shaking knees finally give out and my body crumbles to dirty alley ground. I’m waiting for the pain to shoot through me as I land on the unforgiving asphalt, but instead a pair of strong arms encase me.

And instead of removing his hands like I had hoped, he does something far worse and engulfs me in his touch. My whole body finding its way pressed up against his. This is bad, horrible, terrible. Unable to do anything else, I bury face into his firm chest and let him wrap his strong arms around my torso, as if doing so will keep from shattering into a million pieces.

His fingers rub soothing circles over my back, and though I can’t make out exactly what he’s saying over the erratic beat of my heart in my ears, I know he’s whispering reassuring words in my ear. To any passersby, this would look like a simple lover’s embrace, even though it’s far from it. At the very least it won’t draw any attention.

After a few moments, I finally calm down enough to understand him again. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Just breathe, no one is going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he continues saying and something in his voice makes it sound like a promise. Almost as if he is going to make certain of it.

This strange current ripples through me and for the first time in a long time, I believe what someone is telling me. I trust in his words, the words of this stranger I have never met. I don’t remember the last time I trusted anyone, and I don’t understand why I’m trusting him of all people right now, but something inside of me does. Something inside of me knows he is telling me the truth. That he won’t hurt me or let anyone else do so either.

In my mind, I see him as a knight, with a sword and noble steed willing to slay my biggest fears.

Knowing this, I will myself to breathe, to fill my lungs with air, and to my surprise, air makes it into my burning lungs. I blink, confused as to how this stranger has somehow managed to break through the foggy panic.

Slowly, breathing becomes easier again. With every breath that passes my lips, I’m becoming more and more aware of the scent of the guy who is holding me. He smells nice, fresh and clean like soap with a hint of aftershave that’s not overbearing like most men wear it.

He feels like home, I tell myself. Letting my eyes drift closed, I concentrate on that scent and on how warm his skin feels radiating through his dress shirt, how protected I feel with his arms wrapped around me and how soothing the sound of his heartbeat is beneath my ear.

I don’t know how long we stay like this, all I know is that I have never been able to calm down this fast from a panic attack. Normally these kinds of things end with me crying on the floor for hours, gasping for air while curled in the fetal position, before either literally passing out or simply falling asleep from exhaustion. And while this is different, and I should be terrified, I’m not, nothing about this mysterious man scares me anymore.