Page 62 of Stay Toxic

“Things you see, list five of them. You’re panicking, love. It’s going to help.”

I shake my head. “It’s dark. I can’t see…I don’t see much.”

“You see enough. Go on.”

I wet my lip and force myself to focus. “Your—I see your hands. The lamp.” This would be considerably easier if it were on. I force myself to look farther, squinting. “I see your armchair. And the ridiculously expensive piano?”

I want to ask if he plays, but I can’t, I can barely inhale.

What is she going to do next? What will I do? I could disappear. Leave the country, like I planned to do shortly before my birthday. I have the cash from Caleb. That could be enough. But where would I go? What would I do?

“That’s it. Just one more,” he encourages.

“The curtains?”

“There you go. Now four things you can touch.”

“I’m not touching four things.”

“You absolutely are. Tell me about four sensations in your body right now.”

“You. Your shirt,” I specify. “My jeans under my palm? The sheets. They’re so soft.”

“You’re doing so well. What else?”

“Your…cock. You’re hard.”

“Well, excuse me, darling,” he says with a chuckle. “You’re on my lap. That happens.”

I laugh. “Your palm’s on my back. You’re rubbing it.”

“That’s five,” he says. “But good. You’re coming back.”

I feel a lot more settled already. I’m no longer hyperventilating, though I’m still terrified. I can feel myself shiver, my teeth grinding against each other.

“Now, three things you can hear.”

“Your heartbeat. Music, from downstairs. Laughter.”

“And two things you can smell.”

“I feel fine, you know,” I say. “Thank you for grounding me.”

He’s talked me out of most of the panic. I’m no longer quaking in fear, though I also know I need to do something to get out of my situation.

“Good. Now finish this: two things you can smell.”

I roll my eyes. “Vanilla, citrus, woodsy smoke. That’s your cologne, right?”

I’m very familiar with it, though I never tried to analyze it before. I could recognize him with my eyes close.

“Antidote, yes. You have a good nose. As it’s all me, that only counts as one. Keep going.”

I force my attention away from the heady scent, though it’s hard, with my face right on his shirt.

I sniff, and frown. “Cumin?”

“Amongst many other spices. That’s our Indian food cooling.”