“Beast, come away from her, honey, you’re making her worse,” Dani says, pulling on my arm. I’m on the floor trying to get Hayden to come into my arms but she just keeps pushing harder against the wall each time I try.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Diesel barks.

“Get away from her! Everyone get out of the house,” Pastor Sturgill commands, and he’s fucking out of his mind if he thinks I’ll agree to that.

“What’s wrong with her?” I ask this time, directing my words to the Pastor. It’s all I can do to keep my words even and quiet. That’s the best I can do even if they vibrate with anger. I don’t want them to scare Hayden further. If that’s even possible.

“Having all of you in here must have triggered one of her panic attacks. You all need to leave. It’s the only thing that will help her right now,” he advises. He’s probably right. He apparently has had experience with these episodes before, and I don’t like that he’s the one that dealt with them. I made up my mind yesterday that Maggie and Hayden were my responsibility. Pastor Sturgill is dreaming if he thinks I’m leaving Hayden in his hands now.

“Everyone leave,” I order the same tone of voice.

“Beast, honey,” I hear Dani. I pull my eyes away from Hayden and look at her.

“I got this,” I tell her. She stares at me a minute then grabs Crusher’s arm to leave. I know Pastor Sturgill is there, but I’m not wasting my breath on him. I need to get to Hayden before she hurts herself or Maggie.

Hayden’s entire body is shaking, tears are pouring down her body and she’s breathing so hard that each new intake of breath is a large heaving shudder. I’ve had zero experience with this, but I’ve dealt with men on the battlefield who are shell-shocked. Men who have seen too much—so much it breaks something inside of them. I figure that is part of what’s going on with Hayden. So, I go with my instincts.

“You need to leave. I can get her to calm down,” the Pastor says, starting to walk around me.

“All due respect, Pastor, but if you get one step closer, I will physically throw you out. Hayden and I have this, don’t we, honey?” I both warn and question, directing my words at Hayden and ignoring the annoying preacher. I inch slowly toward her, not much and so slowly and carefully that I couldn’t have moved much more than an inch. Hayden doesn’t scream, or try to push back into the wall again however, so I’m satisfied. I do it twice more. The last time I see her body jerk, so I stop.

“Give me your hand, Hayden,” I tell her gruffly, wishing I had a soft voice that wasn’t riddled with darkness. I just hope she feels connected with me enough that it helps. She called me her friend, hopefully that’s enough. I reach my hand out, instinctively giving it to her palm down. I can’t help the scars or the darkness of my hand, but every time I’m with Hayden and something happens she reaches for my hand. Sure, none of those things have been bad, but I’m hoping it still helps. If ever a woman needed something to hold onto right now, it’s Hayden and for some reason I don’t want to question, I’d rather it be me than the preacher who is standing by the door, yet still refusing to leave.

“Hayden, come on now. You don’t want to scare Maggie, do you? Give me your hand,” I tell her, and I’m holding my breath as her body jerks against the wall.

Her eyes, almost glassy, look at my hand. I’m hoping that means she’s hearing me. She’s crawled into a shell, and I desperately need her to come out of it…to come to me. “You hear me, don’t you? You don’t want Maggie to be scared. Hold onto my hand. I’ll protect you, sweetheart. I’ll protect both of you,” I vow to her. I’d already decided it on my own, but now I give her that promise. I ignore the way the words make my heartrate accelerate. It’s only because I’m afraid I can’t reach her. That’s all it is.

I am almost about to let the Pastor try. She’s been staring at my hand for what feels like an hour. In reality, it’s probably been more like five minutes. That feels like five minutes too long…and then…something happens. I watch, almost disbelieving, as she takes a hand that was clenched tightly into her chest and slowly lowers it.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold onto me. You’re not alone now,” I reassure her, feeling elation glide through my body as her small, trembling arm drops away from her body centimeter by centimeter, until her hand is close to mine. It’s all I can do not to grab it. I can’t. Hayden has to be in charge.

Whatever has happened to her in the past, it was major and she had no control. It broke her and robbed her of something vital…something precious. That’s about all I understand right now. I will know more. Her hand finally touches mine, trembling so hard it jars my hand. I hold my breath as even slower her fingers fan out to encircle my hand. Then a miracle happens. Hayden’s thumb hits the deepest groove on my hand the one that runs from the knuckle to the wrist and begins brushing over it, following the scar one way and then backtracking the other. Over and over she does that—three, four…five times. With each time though, I notice her eyes slowly thaw. Her breathing, though still ragged doesn’t wrack her whole body, making it quake.

I inch closer to her, keeping my hand still. “That’s it, Beauty. Come back to me,” I whisper, my voice cracking, giving her the nickname without realizing it.

“Mi…Mi…Michael?” she stutters, and finally, I breathe normal. She’s back.

I keep our hands joined. It might be my imagination, but I think the scar pattern on my hand is helping to keep her calm. Yet, as best as I can with one arm. I pull her into my lap, holding her close. She instantly curls into me, trusting me. I keep our joined hands between us and just hold her. I let the fingers on my other hand hold onto her shoulder and rest my chin on top of her head. She’s burrowed into my body, but with each passing minute the shudders ease.

“I got you, sweetheart. Nothing will get to you while I’m here. I promise,” I tell her, going with my instinct and giving her the words I think will mean the most.

“Don’t leave,” she whispers, her hand tightening on mine.

“I’m not, Beauty. I’m not going anywhere,” I promise her, but I find myself looking over at the Pastor while I say it. Maybe because he tried to get me to leave, I couldn’t say. He studies me for a minute, then walks out the door, leaving me alone with Hayden. “I’m not going anywhere,” I vow once more, looking down at our joined hands and watching her thumb sweep against my scars. “I’m right here for you,” I tell her, “I’m right here.”

God help me…Hayden’s gotten inside of me…