Playing With Fire

Chapter Twenty-One

            Sure enough, he’s raging. The hand that was in his hair a few moments ago drops to his side in a clenched fist. I gulp, pondering at his unrestrained anger, and gently rest my head against the wall.

          “Well,” He drawls sarcastically while starting to turn around, “Clearly, that didn’t happen—are you even on my side?”

           Upon realizing his actions, I widen my eyes and lurch further back as gracefully as I can. My heart begins to pound as his footsteps and breathing approaches me. I place a hand over my mouth to prevent a groan when the increase in my heart rate causes the palpitating sensation in my skull to hammer down mercilessly.

             “It’s a little too late for that,” He nearly snaps, his voice now orotund. “She’s already involved.”

          My heart rate quickens even more as I muse nervously over his words. A small, incessant feeling in the pit of my stomach, churning to no end, whispers  that he’s talking about me. That the ‘she’ is Faye Williams in the flesh and bone.

           But what, why?

          I feel my ears turn hot and my breath start to become ragged and heavy. My vision suddenly turns prickly, narrowing in at the end of the hall and then fading in a taunting manner. The world around me begins to rotate, spinning clockwise and then jerking back in the alternate direction. In attempt to stabilize myself, I reach out to grasp the wall; however, even the wall seems to crumble and twirl at my fingertips.

          “Faye!” I hear the same astonished voice call my name. Instead of the low, gruff tone, his words vibrate like shrill drums in my temple.

           Travis enters my line of sight and he too begins to swirl around. Even as he approaches me, his voice sounds distant and hushed compared to the sound of the blood and sweat and tears and breathing rushing past my ears.

           “Hey,” He tries again.

           When I can’t respond, he places both his hands on my shoulders and presses my down. Normally, I wouldn’t have budged, but my weak knees make his touch look more forceful than that of reality. Instantaneously, my knees collapse and I flop to the floor, releasing a jarred, painful exhale.

         I clamp my eyes shut and attempt to relax, but I can’t. Each time I think about being calm, I remember how I can’t breathe—and the whole cycle restarts. I look down and try to hold my breath to prevent it from coming out so ragged, but that only makes things worse.

          “Faye,” Travis calls, squeezing my shoulders, “Look at me.”

           I lift my head and wince as my wheezing starts to scratch at the base of my throat. My hand flies to my neck instinctively before curling around something firm and stable.

           Travis ducks his head to meet my gaze, and our eyes lock amidst my racing emotions. He opens his mouth to speak, but I only catch words as they fall out of his mouth.

             Watch. Don’t. Calm. Think. Okay.

          As I struggle to understand what he’s saying, I feel my lungs liberate and release for a longer amount of time. His lips, which form an o shape, easily reflect deep breathing. My heart rate gradually drops while my vision becomes clearer and still. As a matter of fact, the world had stopped rotating as well, and I become completely and regretfully aware of my surroundings.

          There is a slight buzzing ringing in my ears by the time my breath is even and slow, but it’s nothing compared to a few moments ago.