Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits, #1)(96)

“Yeah.” But I didn’t feel okay. I felt anything but okay. I waited for my pulse to stop beating my veins like a gang initiation, for the blood to leave my face and for my lungs to not burn as I gasped. We were safe now. We were free, but my body still reacted like the devil was chasing me.

Another cop car drove past and the blue and red flashing lights hurt my eyes. In my temples, a slow, steady throb mimicked the rhythm of the blue light—away and near, away and near.

The left side of my face felt numb and my head grew light. “Noah, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Hold on.” Noah turned into an abandoned parking lot. He’d barely parked the car when I threw the door open and stumbled out, hacking up the remains of my long-ago lunch.

Noah held my hair away from my face. His body shook with silent laughter. “Seriously, you are way too uptight.”

Part of me wanted to laugh with him, but I couldn’t. I sat back on my knees and stared into the dark night. I couldn’t get the flashing lights out of my head. The red and the blue. Near and away. Near and away.

And then … darkness. No lights. No sounds. Darkness …

Vibrant, colorful images flashed forward in my mind in rapid succession, hitting me like bullets from a machine gun. My head dropped forward and I covered it with my arms to drown it all out. My mind pulled at the images, attempting to sort them, to categorize them, but it couldn’t—and the loss of control, the bombardment, caused sharp, excruciating pain to tear through my brain. Voices and sounds and high-pitched screams clawed at my mind.

I realized that I was screaming and heard Noah speaking rapidly to me. The sound of glass shattering and my own screams drowned him out.

“What happened?” A man with a small light in his hand hovered over me. Red lights flashed behind him and beyond that constellations glowed in the night sky. My mother’s voice whispered in my ear, crooning to me to return to her story.

“No!” I fought to keep myself from falling back into the pit, back to her floor … to keep away from my own blood. “Noah!”

His voice had a husky edge as he called out to me, “I’m right here, baby.”

The man withdrew the light. A stethoscope hung from his neck. “Have you taken any drugs tonight? Have you been drinking?”

The rage in Noah’s voice tasted bitter in my own mouth. “Listen, you f*cking *, for the fifth time, she’s clean.”

He ignored Noah as he rubbed his hands under my neck. “Pot? Meth? Pills of any kind?”

You’re not allowed sleeping pills. My own voice echoed from the back of my mind. No. No. God, no. Gravitational forces pushed me into the ground and my mind got sucked into itself and yanked reality from my grasp.

“You suffer from depression.” I shook the empty pill bottle and stumbled out of my mother’s bathroom, stopping when my knee hit the stained glass window she had propped between two chairs to let dry.

My mother sat on the couch, a glass of iced tea in one hand and a picture of Aires in the other. She took a methodical sip. Her eyes darted from my own empty glass of tea on the coffee table to me. Her wild red hair fell from its clip. “I know.”

I swayed to the side as the entire world tilted. “What did you do?”

She took another sip of tea. Everything inside of me became heavy as steel. “What did you do to me?”

“Don’t worry, Echo. We’ll be with Aires soon. You said you missed him and would do anything to see him again. So would I.”

The room flipped to the left. I struggled to stay upright and overcompensated to the right, but I fell regardless of my efforts. The world collapsed in on itself. The sound of glass shattering accompanied searing pain and screams. Screams from my mother. Screams from me. I opened my eyes and watched as a shower of red and blue followed me to the floor. A fleeting thought ripped through the pain … I’d loved that stained glass window.

Blood.

Blood poured from the exposed veins on my arms. It soaked my clothes and stained my skin. It pooled at the crook of my elbow and a small river streamed out and flowed toward my mother, who was now lying next to me.

“I’m bleeding!”

A strong hand gripped mine. Noah came into view. “No, you’re not.” Behind him, white lights glared and a beeping noise kept in sync with the pounding of my heart. He spoke with unwavering determination. “Focus, Echo! Look at your arms!”

He held my arms up. Clear tubing gently rubbed against my skin. I’d expected blood, but there was none. White scars. Raised scars. And no blood.

“Noah?” I gasped, trying to understand through the screams in my head.

“I’ve got you. I swear to God, I’ve got you,” said Noah. “Stay with me, Echo.”

I wanted to. I wanted to stay with him, but the shouting and screams and glass breaking in my mind grew louder. “Make it stop.”

He tightened his grip on my arms. “Fight, Echo! You’ve got to f*cking fight. Come on, baby. You’re safe.”

Noah wavered in front of me and swirled. Pain sliced through me and I screamed again. A nurse pulled glass out of my arm. My father wiped the tears from my eyes and kissed my forehead. Blood soaked his white button-down shirt and smeared his face. “Shh, sweetheart, don’t cry, you’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“You’re safe, Echo.” Noah rubbed the scars on my arm.