Almost Just Friends (Wildstone #4)(100)

“And you know we love having you,” Raina said, putting her hand over Olive’s when her wife opened her mouth again. “But we also know that you’re a fierce protector of those you love. You’d keel over before worrying us. Something’s wrong.” She softened her voice. “Did . . . something happen?”

Brynn started shoveling in the soup, even though she hated vegan chickpea noodle soup. “Yum.”

Olive hadn’t taken her eyes off Brynn. “It was Dustin, wasn’t it. Somehow this is all connected to that asshole.”

Brynn pushed her glasses farther up her nose. “Dirk.”

“Hmm. And you only push your glasses up like that when you’re upset.”

“Olive,” Raina said softly. “Back up, give her a little breathing space.” She turned to Brynn. “Honey, you need to inhale.”

Right. She was holding her breath. She let it out and gasped in some air. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Raina sounded and looked deeply worried. “You’re breathing too heavily and your pulse is racing.”

Yep, she was in the throes of a good old-fashioned panic attack, her first since last month when she’d realized she’d lost her great grandma’s necklace, the one Olive had told her to take the utmost care of as it was not just sentimental, but worth a small fortune. But that hadn’t been what had caused the attack. It’d been the unrelenting suspicion that Dirk had taken it.

He’d sworn he hadn’t, and had been so hurt and devastated at the accusation that Brynn had started to doubt herself. Maybe she had really lost it.

Now she tried to suck in some more air and failed. “It’s just allergies. I’m fine.”

“See? She says she’s fine,” Raina said.

“I am,” Brynn said, rubbing her chest and the impending freight train in it. “Totally fine.”

Olive looked at Raina. “She’s not fine. She’s not working, her promise ring is no longer on her finger, so I’m assuming David was a huge ass-plant and that she’s moving back in here.”

“Dirk,” Brynn whispered.

“None of those things came out of her mouth,” Raina said, sounding distressed.

“Well, maybe they would if you’d give her a minute to talk.” Olive frowned. “Except she’s clutching her chest and looking like she’s going to hyperventilate. Honey, are you in pain?”

If by pain she meant the feeling that her ribs were being cracked open by a sledge hammer, then yeah. She was in pain.

Raina crouched in front of her. “On a pain scale of one to ten, where are you at?”

Fifteen sounded about right.

Raina whirled to Olive. “Oh my God, I think she’s having a heart attack!”

“No, I’m not.” Brynn pulled off her glasses and dropped her face into her hands. “But everything else is all true. The not working thing. The coming home to stay for a bit thing. The asshole boyfriend thing.”

“I’m going to kill Dirk,” Olive murmured beneath her breath.

Brynn managed a mirthless laugh at her finally getting his name right.

“Oh honey,” Raina whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“The school I was working at closed its doors. And the Dirk thing, it’s for the best.” Understatement . . . Brynn shook her head. “But I’m okay. Really. I’m just . . .” Bonkers. Completely unhinged. Homeless . . . “A-okay.”

“She’s whiter than you,” Raina told Olive. “And clammy but chilled.”

“I see it. Sweetheart, breathe,” Olive said calmly to Brynn. To Raina, she said, “Call 9-1-1.”

“No!” Brynn said. Or tried to. But of course now she really was hyperventilating.

Raina was on the phone with 9-1-1. “Hi, yes, my daughter’s having a heart attack.”

“I’m not!” Brynn wheezed as little black dots danced behind her eyelids.

Olive held both of Brynn’s hands. “Breathe,” she said again. “Breathe with me.”

She was trying. But she couldn’t seem to draw air into her lungs, which was now intensifying the sharp throbbing in her chest. Ripping her hands from Olive’s, she pressed them against her ribcage, trying to ease the pain.

“Oh my goddess,” Raina whispered helplessly, and ran to the door. “What’s keeping EMS?”

A few minutes later, two uniforms stood over Brynn, helping her onto a gurney, putting an oxygen mask over her face. She no longer had her glasses and couldn’t see past her own nose.

“Honey,” Raina yelled as Brynn was stuffed into the back of an ambulance. “We’re going to be right behind you, okay? I’ve got your glasses.”

Brynn held out her hand, but couldn’t reach them.

“Just relax,” one of the EMS said. “Your only job here is to keep breathing.”

“I’m fine!” Brynn tried to yell through the mask.

But no one was listening. So she gave up and stared up at the interior roof of the rig that was a blur and did the only thing she could. She breathed.

Forty-five minutes later at the hospital, a doctor and nurse were standing at her cot.

“Looks like it was a panic attack,” the doctor said.