Bloodline [h.s.]

thirty-three.

Thanks to Kai, my morning run was less than enjoyable. Knowing I would be met with protest, I left before Bridget woke up. It wasn't hard since she slept in the damn guest room.

Each step set off little alarms of pain in my abdomen and down my legs. The salt-diluted sea breeze ignited the nerve endings of the open cuts in my hand and face. Grains of sand blowing against my skin deepened the sting, pleasantly distracting me from the events of last night.

The memory of her seeing me break down was nearly enough trigger that feeling all over again. No matter how much it hurt, I needed to run to trick my mind into feeling some sort of normalcy to prevent it from happening again.

As I approached the house, my feet slowed in the sand. I wasn't ready to face her yet. I could barely face myself. But I tore my eyes away from the ocean to see that I didn't have a choice. Sitting on the steps of the bluff was Bridget. She glanced at the blue and purple patches along my legs and torso with concern creasing her forehead.

"They will fade in a week. I'm okay." I panted as I caught my breath.

"You're supposed to take it easy." She lectured as I sat down next to her.

"I won't tell Dr. Loverboy if you don't." I smirked.

"He isn't—"

"You opened the door, and he immediately said he would do anything for you." I said before she could deny it. This was easier to discuss than anything else that happened in the last forty-eight hours.

"We broke up a year before I met you. I was finishing up school and he was in his last year of residency. It wasn't very serious. We've stayed good friends. That's why he said that." She explained.

"Sure." I chuckled as I rested my head between my knees, feeling the effects of the run I should not have gone on.

"Why didn't you skip it today?" She asked softly. Her hand rested on my shoulder.

As always, I took a moment to come up with an excuse, but despite how difficult it was, I knew I had to be honest now.

"Sometimes, when I feel... like I did yesterday, it helps to go about my routine and exercise."

"You felt a panic attack coming on this morning?" She asked.

"I don't get panic attacks." I muttered, not wanting to move my head up from my legs.

"Describe what you felt last night then."

The simple movement of her fingers massaging my skull through my damp hair melted me into one with the sand. Christ, she could get me to admit to anything while doing that alone.

"Seeing the blood where Abby...was shot just made me uneasy." I hesitated.

"That was more than uneasy. I wanted to let you do this on your terms because I know how hard it is for you, but you're hurting yourself by not talking about it. You have to at least try." She said, leaning towards me. I tilted my head against the heel of her hand.

"It's like... an immediate need to get away. It felt like my body was on fire...as if my skeleton would tear through my skin to escape if I didn't get out. I can't breathe. My ears ring..." I trailed off after doing my best to give her an answer.