Page 17 of Rescue

“Yeah. Daisy too.”

“Want me to go in and head them off?”

I’m so relieved I could hug him. The only thing I want in that moment is to be left alone. “Thank you.”

He opens the door but pauses before walking through, turning back to me. “It’s not too late to call this off.”

“Levi—”

“I’m just saying, man. It’s never going to be too late, okay?”

“I don’t want to call it off.”

He nods, but I can tell he’s not convinced. Thankfully he doesn’t push it. “You’re not going to take off, are you?”

“I’m going to sit right here in this shitty little alley like a good boy, Levi.”

He ignores my sarcastic tone. “I’ll see you in a while.”

Once he’s gone, I grab a nearby milk crate, turn it over, and collapse onto it, trying to get myself under better control.

I’ve had a lot of weird reactions to shit over the years, but this one has to take the cake. Never before has the sight of a pretty girl sent me into freak-out mode.

I rub my forehead, wondering if I should call my shrink. That would be Daisy’s advice if I told her what set me off. I could practically hear her voice, the way it sounded when she was scared but trying to stay calm. “Dr. Jacobs can talk you through it,” she would say. I close my eyes, hating the idea of some therapist knowing my brain better than me.

“Then talk yourself through it,” I mutter aloud. What the hell just happened? I was looking at Haylee and thinking how gorgeous she was. Thinking how happy she looked and how different it was from the way I saw her at our meeting. And that made me feel…

Unworthy. Broken.

I draw in a ragged breath, knowing I hit it on the head. The idea of talking to her freaked me out because I knew I didn’t deserve to talk to someone like her. I would just fuck it up, the way I fucked up everything else. Seeing her in LA I thought, maybe, that we had some things in common. Thought she might be someone who could understand some of the sadness that seemed to plague me. But to see her so happy… I would just bring her down. I bring everything down.

I can’t help her either. The errant thought startles me, making me sit up straight. Where did that come from? I can’t help her… either? Whoelsehadn’t I helped?

There’s an itchy feeling in my chest that I don’t like, and my skin is warm. I close my eyes again, taking deep breaths. There’s a memory at the edge of my consciousness, trying to break through, and it scares me. I’ve had this struggle before, and it always freaks me out, this feeling that my brain is trying to remember something I would much rather leave forgotten.

“Oh,” a soft voice says, making me jump. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

I spin on the milk crate to see Haylee standing there in the doorway, the light from the hallway beyond throwing her face into shadow. I feel a momentary panic—what if being close to her has me freaking out again? I don’t want to experience that in front of her.

“I’ll just go back in,” she says, hesitant, and I realize I’ve been staring at her for a good twenty seconds without responding.

“No, it’s okay,” I say even though I’m pretty sure it’s a bad idea. “Do you want to… sit?”

She doesn’t answer for a minute. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” I grab another milk crate and turn it over a few feet from me.

“Thanks,” she says, sounding relieved as she sits. “I just needed to get out of there for a minute.”

“I know the feeling.”

I realize that she’s added a bulky leather jacket over her dress to combat the cool air. The sleeves trail down over her wrists, way too big for her.It’s not her jacket, I think. One of her bandmates’? A sudden rush of jealousy has me shaking my head.You’re crazy, Lennon.

“So, who are you running away from?” she asks.

You, actually. “My brothers. They get a little… pushy.”

Haylee pushes some loose hair out of her eyes. “I know the feeling.”