Chapter Thirteen
Graham
The best time to pick yourself up and start moving forward again was the second you knew it was something you had to do.
Now all I needed was to get out the front door with a miminium of hassle and nothing tugging at my heartstrings to change my mind. What was good for the goose was good for the gander, right? It was my last night home and no fucking way was I spending it how I’d been living—alone all night, thinking of Lee being Lee with Layla.
I was ready. My gaze locked on my left hand. Well, not quite. I took off my wedding band, tossed it on the dresser, and after one more inspection of myself in the mirror, I left my bedroom.
I checked my watch. I was thirty minutes ahead of Lee’s ETA to pick up Ella. Officially, I was heading out for a work dinner with my guys from Black Star Security. Unofficially, I was heading out to get laid before I flew out in the morning. It was SOP before an op—the fucking—and I wasn’t forgoing it.
Monogamy? Who needed it?
Marriage? No one needed that.
Men? There were plenty of them.
Leland? Fuck no would my life continue to revolve around him.
With each stride toward the living room I grew more resolute. I fortified myself with the thought I could die this hop. Every black op there was a possibility I’d come home in a body bag. Spending the night jerking off in my bed, not happening.
That put a jig in my step.
A pulse in my cock.
Emotion-numbing deadness gone from my body by the will of my mind. And in a very short time, one could hope there’d be a hot, hard body to sink into and do some howling with in the right way.
The finale to Leland and me.
Tonight.
Nothing was going to change that…
“You’re leaving for dinner already, Poppy?” Ella asked fretfully, jumping from her chair when I entered the doorway. “Can’t you stay a little while longer? Dad just texted me. He’s almost here.”
She hurried toward me, and I glanced over her head to Patricia and was hit by a blast of cold air. Jesus Christ, what tipped my hand to Patty that I was going out on the prowl tonight?
I smiled. “Can’t do it, sweetheart. It’s work. I’ve told you that.”
My disobedient gaze took a fast peek at Mom to see if she bought that. One of her brows jerked up at me, and her eyes went wide with disapproval and disappointment.
“How long are you going to be away working?” Ella murmured, distressed.
“It’s hard to know,” I explained, fighting to keep emotion from my face. “Every security job is different. But I’ll call from the road as often as I can. And you can email me. I may not get back to you quickly, but I promise I’ll answer every one.”
Her amber eyes flooded with worry and sadness. Even if our family hadn’t been in shambles, the last goodbye before going out on a contract was never easy. This one was torture and it had nothing to do with where I’d be heading in the morning.
“Can’t you cancel your business dinner and have dinner with Dad and me like we used to? Dad wants you to. Neither of us are going to see you again for a very long time.”
“Not that long, Ella Bella. I’ll be back in California before you’ve even had time to miss me.” I needed to shut this down pronto. “Come on. Give me a hug.”
She slipped her arms around my middle and held on so tight it hurt. “You be safe, Poppy.”
“I’ll be back soon. No need to worry. I promise.”
She nodded. I insulated myself against the expression on both my girls’ faces and went to my car.
As I drove along the coast highway, my body ratcheted up with each mile. I was in my old hunting ground and there was no better place for a gay man to hunt a hookup than Southern California.
Great ass.
Gorgeous men.
I stopped at a light, and looked through my window. Strolling the sidewalk on the other side of the street were a few as handsome—if not more handsome—than Leland. Nothing like tan skin, blond head of hair, and a fit body to kill marital unhappiness. Not to mention send a guy into a conflict zone with a smile on his face.
Hooah.
It was jumping with possibilities on the streets tonight and I hadn’t even settled on a club yet. Saturday night in Newport Beach was a fucking great thing.
Forty minutes later I was still cruising the waterfront and hadn’t landed anywhere. I bypassed gay night at The Kettle—my favorite hot spot in the southland—but I didn’t want to think of Lee, and I would if I went there.
More clubs hit the reject list as I continued to drive. Too close to home. Too crowded. Not my scene. No bouncer to collect cover meant not my crowd.
Fuck, Graham, pick a place.
There.
I hit my turn signal, shot up a side street, parked in the lot, and stared at the building. Oh crud, I was at Flingers. It was the seediest club in Manhattan Beach. I’d only been there a handful of times in my life— right after I’d broken up with my five-year lover before Leland—and I’d fucking hated it.
Watered-down drinks. B-list men—except moi—tacky ambiance, and cuisine that came with a gratis dose of food poisoning.
No, no, no. This was not where a man went to start over. Not if he was in his prime, hot, and available. This was where a man went if he struck out everywhere else and was horny.
Maybe I should go back to The Kettle?
Fuck it. I pulled the key from the ignition and climbed from the car. Even at Flingers there had to one appealing man other than me. Besides, I wasn’t looking for Mr. Wonderful. I was looking only for Mr. Tonight.
I pulled back the door, maneuvered through the bodies hovering outside the bar area, and jutted my chin at the host.
Standing at the entrance to the bar, I scanned the packed room. The music wasn’t bad tonight, at least. None of that hip-hop or techno shit I couldn’t stand. Blasting from the ceiling speakers was throwback eighties hard rock, my favorite.
Guys struggled to get around me to enter, but I had yet to decide if I was staying there. But there were wall-to-wall men, and that was what I was looking for. Not a thoroughly without possibilities collection. Some bears, some twinks, a little bit of everything. Not horrible. A somewhat eclectic crowd. Christ, please let there be someone worth fucking…
That thought came to a screeching halt as my eyes locked on two men sitting at a tall table.
Oh, fuck my life.
My nauseatingly happy husband-and-husband neighbors in Newport Beach, Sean and Skyler Hart. Rooted in place, I stared at them in disbelief.
What the fuck were they doing here? Flingers wasn’t a club where married men brought their spouses. It was where married men went to step out quickly and anonymously.
Oh damn.
I took a cautious step backward.
Another step and I’d be out of their line of sight.
Then it happened. Skyler turned from gazing at Sean, saw me, and his face lit up. Worse, he immediately started to gesture me over with an arm, and when I didn’t move, called out, “Over here, Graham. You can sit with us. We’ve got plenty of room.”
I bet you do. I forced a smile that felt like a grimace, but I couldn’t walk out now. They were friends—sort of—and Skyler my employee.
Reluctantly I crossed the room as Sky made space at their table and Sean grabbed a tall stool for me.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Skyler announced, giving me an enthusiastic one-arm wraparound hug.
Before I could respond, Sean piped in. “Is Lee meeting you?” He turned and looked around the room.
“No. Afraid not.”
“Guess that means you don’t have to rummage for another chair, babe,” Sky said.
“Oh.” Sean eased back onto his stool.
They both looked disappointed it was only me—which irked because they were friends from my side of the marital aisle—and Sean motioned with his hand for me to sit. “Well, have a drink with us anyway.”
“We’ve got all these two-for-one coupons for food and booze. Patty dropped them off right before we started to make dinner. So we thought it’s Flingers for grub and drinks for the Harts.”
You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
My stare locked on the pieces of paper in the center of the table. Crud, Patty couldn’t have known. True, she might’ve figured out what I’d planned to do tonight, but she couldn’t figure out the where. I hadn’t fixed on a destination until I got here.
My paranoid suspicions that I’d just been cockblocked by my mother were interrupted by Sean’s voice. “You know that’s not why we come here, babe.”
When I lifted my gaze, they were smiling at each other lovingly in that way couples do when they’re sharing a memory. So noted, already said, but fuck my life.
I sank down on the vacant chair intended for me, and Sky motioned for the server. After ordering a double Jameson that probably should have been a triple, I said, “I can’t stay long. I have an early plane in the morning.”
They nodded in unison.
“Going out with Dillon and Jared on the road guarding this overly demanding celebrity client,” Sky explained to his husband. “It must be some hotshot to get my cousin Jared out of his desk chair and working in the field. And it’s going to be long hours for me taking over the day-to-day management of Black Star until Jared gets back. I really thought he was done with bodyguard work after he got married. I thought you were, too, Graham. But every time Mr. Blackwell books, out the two of you go with Dillon.”
The spew from Skyler’s mouth confirmed he didn’t know “Mr. Blackwell” was really code for CIA when put on the schedule. I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. “Some clients won’t settle for second best. At Black Star, we make sure the client gets what they ask for. The best. It’s why we’re the biggest and most successful security firm in the world.”
Skyler’s chin began to bob.
“It must be an exciting life, traveling around and working security everywhere,” Sean said before taking a sip of his chardonnay.
“As long as there’s a dangerous world and people with money they’ll always need guarding,” I commented dryly.
They both laughed, a little too much, but thankfully my drink arrived.
“It sure was a great party you guys had last week,” Sky remarked.
“It sure was, Graham. Everything exceptional.”
“Where’s Lee tonight?” Sky asked.
Hadn’t we already covered this? I pretended not to hear the question and focused on the action on the dance floor. They continued to chatter and I tried to figure out how long I had to stay before it wasn’t rude to cut out on them.
One drink.
Twenty minutes.
Outta here.
That would leave plenty of night left to shake off having been with them and to move things in the right direction.
I checked my watch then polished off the last drop of scotch in my glass. “It was nice bumping into you two.”
Skyler’s face snapped up from his phone he’d been texting on for the last quarter hour. “Wait, you’re not leaving yet, are you?”
Something in how he said that made my gaze narrow. “I’ve intruded long enough.”
“No intrusion. Sit. Talk. It’s early,” Sean assured affably, but my gut started to churn. It felt like they were trying to keep me there. Crazy thought, no doubt, but that’s how it felt.
I tapped the table once with my knuckles and stood up. “Have a good night.” And before they could respond, I hotfooted it through the bodies toward the exit.
When I hit the cooler air outside, the hairs on my arms stood up and I paused to survey the parking lot. First, accidental unlikely meeting with my least favorite couple friends, and now there was the sensation I was being watched.
I looked left then right.
Nothing.
Christ, I was losing it.
Pulling my keys from my pocket, I moved toward my car. I’d just gotten into the driver’s seat and closed my door when the passenger door opened.
“You can’t ignore me and run from me forever,” exclaimed a demanding, petulant familiar voice.
My head shot to the right. Lee. Sitting next to me, after having tracked me down like the spook he was.
My crazy and paranoid suspicions weren’t crazy or paranoid. He’d probably used the Black Star GPS software and Skyler to follow my movements. I didn’t doubt Patricia’s coupons for the Harts were his doing as well, making bumping into Skyler and Sean not coincidence at all.
Lee came to Newport Beach under the guise of collecting Ella and hunted me down instead. Otherwise my soon to be ex-husband wouldn’t have known where to find me so he could pounce my last night on US soil.
“Get the fuck out of my car,” I growled.
He raked back his golden blond waves from his brow. “No, I won’t do that, baby. Not before we talk.”
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
“Then I’ll talk. You listen.”
Listen? Hell no. There wasn’t anything he could say at this point I wanted to hear. No rationalization or Leland verbal mumbo-jumbo would make better what he’d done to us.
“You fucked and knocked up your ex-wife,” I ground out harshly between clenched teeth. “And brought her home to live with us. Don’t sit there and stare at me like I’m behaving irrationally.”
He pushed his face into mine. “I don’t think I am because I don’t think you are. Irrational, that is. In fact, I’m counting on you not being unreasonable and not doing something stupid that would hurt us more than I’ve already done. Paying me back for what I did won’t make you feel better. It only puts us in a more fucked-up place. How could you go to Flingers and look for a trick?”
Anger shot through my body. I reached across him and shoved open the door on his side. “What I do, who I fuck, how I live is none of your business, Lee. Not any longer. Out. Now. Or I’m not responsible for what happens if you don’t listen.”
“Are you fucking someone else?”
Un-fucking-real.
Where did he get off even asking me that?
His jaw tightened. “I know things look hopeless for us, Graham. But they’re not. We can get through this if we hold on to why we’re together.”
I whirled toward him as emotion strangled me. “But we’re not together, Lee. We’re done. Over.”
“I don’t believe that, baby. And I have a strong suspicion you don’t either,” he murmured, husky, then all visible traces of anxiety faded from his face with a smug smirk.
Those amber eyes gleamed at me, and it took a moment to realize why. I’d moved halfway over the side of the console while we’d argued. We were chest to chest with only a hair between us, mouths close, air crackling with sexual want, and I knew without checking by how hard I was that Lee was hard, too.
I ordered myself to get out of the car ASAP.
Lee’s lips parted as his breath caught—his fuck me expression—and my cock jumped behind my zipper. Even after all the shit that went down he could light my body like a Roman candle, the way no man before him ever could.
“We don’t have a lot of time, baby. You’ve gotta nail this ass now if you don’t want to risk our winning streak by heading out without fucking me first.”
I felt his hands opening my shirt.
Motherfucker.
Did he really think I’d stoop to having my good luck deployment fuck being my cheating husband in a car parked at Flingers? At least, that was my last thought before I crashed my mouth into his.
I climbed the last bit over the console as I fucked his mouth with my tongue. One of his hands set the seat to recline as the other ripped open the buttons of my shirt. Lips locked and groins grinding, we parted our shirts, opened our pants, and shoved them down to free our straining erections.
The SUV I drove was a full-size luxury model, but even with the passenger seat pushed all the way back and the maximum allowed legroom it was work covering Lee with my body. But cover him I did. Cock to cock. Mouth to mouth. Our hands clutching as our hips gyrated, sharing the feel of our blood-filled rods.
Palms planted on his shoulders, I rolled my body then broke our kiss as I held myself above him and his eyes locked on the bead of pre-cum from my tip. As he licked his lips, he tried to grab a taste with a finger and I stopped him with another harsh rub against his dick.
When he groaned into my mouth, I used my hands to adjust him down the seat until he sat on the floorboard so my cock was at his lips.
At that point, my cock was rock hard and I was as desperate to be throat deep as he was to get me there. As he surrounded me with his wet tunnel, expertly working his tongue with his lips, I let out a ragged groan.
When he’d got in the car all I wanted to do was punch him and now I was fucking his face on the superhighway to nirvana that could only be reached via Lee. And it was a fucking flesh-burning high-speed race toward euphoria in every stroke of his tongue.
My hurt and anger were fleetingly lost to the nerve-blistering suction on my throbbing length. Swirl, twirl, down and up. Balls sucked, slit teased, finger doing its voodoo around my pucker and in my hole. Magic button pressed and released.
The ascent toward orgasm came so glorious and fast I could have come right then and not regretted it. It was what I’d intended when we’d first gone at it. Letting Leland give me one great suck before I walked away. But now, anything less than claiming him totally wouldn’t be enough to hold me together when he climbed from the car.
Maybe what they said was true: The binding tie that kept love from moving completely to hate was the fuck. I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted—a way to hold on to loving him—but I knew I painfully wanted the fuck.
Needed it.
To let my body unleash on him.
That was the true upside of anger before walking away. The last epic fuck shared by a couple.
One.
Last.
Heated and carnal drop of us.
Shaking overtook my body from his finger stirring in my hole as his tongue lapped the head of my cock. If he inhaled me again, it would be over.
“I want to fuck you,” I said on a groan, and his lids flared wide. I wasn’t completely sure what I saw in those amber orbs.
We were both breathing heavily, the windows all around steamed from our breath, and our pheromones filled the cramped space around us to a point where we were both ragged with want.
His tongue ran and teased my slit.
I wanted to bury myself in his hole.
I closed my eyes to steady myself. No matter what we’d become, I wanted this part of us to end well. I was a generous lover and we were generous to each other, but this was different than any other time we’d been together. I sensed that—maybe feared it a little—and I was pretty sure Lee felt it, too.
My hips pulled back, freeing my erection from his mouth, and I opened my eyes looking for I didn’t know what on his face.
“Fuck me, baby. I want you so bad it hurts.”
I flipped him over on the seat, and his fingers curled around the top near the headrest. Quickly I found the rubber I’d tucked into my pocket before I left the house, yanked it out, and ripped it open. As I used some of the lube to slick him up, he glanced over his shoulder at me.
His eyes flashed when he saw what I had since we both knew why I was carrying the skin. He was right. I would have fucked another man tonight if he hadn’t made sure he’d crossed my path.
But, hands down, he was better than a hookup from a bar. He was the only man I wanted, so why deprive myself of one more fuck if he offered it?
I inserted one finger, then two, massaging and stirring his entry as my free hand sheathed me. Once I was covered, I plunged in, barreling past his ring until I was deep in him.
For a moment, the movement of our bodies suspended and we stared at each other. I couldn’t keep myself from stretching over his back to kiss him. No matter what I tried to tell myself, I was still in love with him.
Warmth ran my flesh and my heart raced.
And we inverted into Leland and Graham. Who we were before he brought Layla into our lives. Only we were fucking in a car for what I was sure would be the final time, and tomorrow we would part for good.
My hips thrust and he answered with a groan that vibrated down my throat. Over and over again I plunged into him, hitting his hot buttons and riding him hard like a man on fire.
I knew his body well and he knew mine, how to stoke the fire and make the flame grow hotter. We were sweaty and trembling and fucking like overheated youths. The building climb of my body in his brought us both to the edge.
“Give it to me, Graham. I need this as much as you do.”
Pushing him harder into the seat, I smashed both my tongue and rod into him. His lips closed almost as tight around my tongue as his muscles clenched my rod.
“Keep going. Don’t stop fucking me,” he ordered through gritted teeth, lust mussed and begging.
I was panting, hovering between ecstasy and pain, and with my every pump our pleasure increased. We grunted like animals and fucked like warriors.
“Fuck,” I shouted gruffly. “Can’t hold it any longer. Going to come soon.”
A strange sound filled the space we shared and it took a moment to realize it was Leland’s ragged moan of surrender to his climax and not my own. That sent me over the edge, and I exploded within him, my every emotion—the good and the painful—poured from my body with a hard thrust.
I kept coming in an orgasm that felt like it’d rip me in two.
I felt Lee’s familiar trembling that always answered when my hot jets erupted in his ass. “No one has ever owned my body like you, Graham. We own each other.”
I was spent, pressed against his back and fighting to recover. The musky smell of him soothed the frantic in me. I allowed myself one kiss on his shoulder and drank in his taste.
Then I released my hold on him and pulled my cock away. Christ, with how we were, I couldn’t get back to the driver’s seat. The only way to get off him was to open his door and step out of the car with my clothes half off.
The sea-damp air sent cold across my perspiration-coated skin as I moved to stand on the pavement. I ripped off the rubber, tossed it aside, and quickly pulled up my pants. He’d torn buttons off my shirt so I tucked it in so it would somewhat cover my torso.
Like an agile cat, Lee rolled over on the seat and got his clothes neatly back in place. He stared up at me. “You still want us. And you still believe in us,” he whispered, content and as though the fucking had lifted the weight of the world from him. “We can make it through this if we don’t give up. I don’t want to give up on us. Not ever.”
That brought a blast of sanity to me. He was the same old Leland. If he couldn’t manage me with his words, he’d go for my body. But I wasn’t the same Graham I was a week ago, and this ploy was demeaning to the both of us.
He couldn’t think it’d be that easy for us to be us again. Hunt me down. Get me heated up enough to fuck him in a car. And then I’d forgive him. He’d sent too much toxic water under the bridge for that to ever happen.
My jaw clenched. “Wrong. I still believe in unconditional fucking. Can you get your ass outta my car now?”
Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed a cig and lit it as I waited for him to vacate my ride. “You’re cruel when you’re angry. Do you know that?”
I shrugged. “Everyone is cruel after they’ve been hurt.”
He hit the button for the seat to go upward from recline. “I don’t want tonight to end with us angry.”
No? “What did you expect? Forgiveness is a long road and we don’t even have the map to it.”
The corners of his lips curled downward. Displeased. Or maybe it was sadness. “Then guide me there and I’ll ride it with you.”
“I’ve already ridden the only thing I want to with you.”
I dropped my smoke and stomped it out.
He shook his head, raked back his hair, then checked himself in the visor mirror. Leland perfect all over again. He slapped the visor up and rose out of the car.
We stood close to each other, but I soon dropped my gaze so as not to look at him and kicked myself for doing it.
“Be careful where you’re going. I care and I love you. Come home safe, Graham. Call me when you get back to Newport, if only to tell me you’re safe.”
Something in how he said that made tears clog my throat and I hated him for that. Tears. I wasn’t a weak man, but Leland could summon tears from me.
Christ, I was a fool. I wanted to hug him goodbye and couldn’t let myself. The air moved in front of me and I felt his lips touch my cheek.
Then he walked off when I was prepared for another round of him refusing to leave, and I was alone in the parking lot.
Thoughts and emotions raced through me as I mindlessly drove the highways of Southern California toward the Nevada border. I replayed every second of my life with Lee and still couldn’t come up with the answer of how we got to where we were.
One day we were happy.
The next I was fucking him in the parking lot at Flingers, like a meaningless trick picked up in the bar. My head spun and my heart churned. I rebelled against reality and hated its undeniability. If anything should have signaled two men were fini it was what had happened between us at Flingers. Fucking in a car and each walking in opposite directions.
When exhaustion made it impossible to drive more, I grabbed a room at a cheap motor lodge, stretched out on the bed, and tried to sleep. But sleep never came. I stared at the ceiling, thought, and struggled to figure out what I was feeling.
Shortly before dawn, I was back on the highway heading toward Mojo Resort, the top-secret base in the Mojave the government denied existed. I parked my car in a space near the runways, took my gear from the trunk, and headed toward the plane.
My team was already there waiting near a sleek jet.
“Hound,” Jared screamed on a voice that could puncture the sound barrier the second he saw me marching toward them.
We weren’t the men of Black Star Security any longer. We were now the men of Black Star Black Ops, and our handles changed.
I was now Hound, after “Hound Dog” and Elvis since the guys all made fun of my music.
Jared, my business partner, was now Moon Doggie, like from beach flicks in the sixties.
Dillon was Slash, though he wouldn’t confirm if that was from the band Guns N’ Roses or an entirely different source.
Every man had a handle that made us brothers.
Some of the chaos inside me lessened from the familiar banter and us being together. I breathed in then out, smiled, talked, and minute by minute felt more in control of me. I was their team leader. Whatever shit I’d left behind in the civilian world I had to put aside and take command of them.
Jared thumbed over his shoulder. “Will you get a load of the transport? We’re fucking traveling in style. Someone wants us happy before we get where they’re hauling us. Has anyone told you where we’re going yet?” I shook my head and he arched a brow. “Not a good sign.”
“Where it is, they’re going to be sorry when we land there.” Dillon laughed and patted me on the shoulder. “Was starting to think you weren’t showing up, buddy.”
It was hell putting a smile on my face. “And let you guys go to the rodeo alone?” I glanced around the tarmac. “What the fuck is the holdup? We should have been in the air thirty minutes ago.”
“They told us we were waiting on cargo and final flight plans,” Dillon said.
I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and lit it. “Doesn’t sound like anyone knows what the fuck they’re doing.”
“Pretty much.” Jared laughed in his untroubled way.
We shot the shit for another thirty minutes before one of the pilots appeared in the open cabin door. “Forty minutes,” he announced. “Then it’s wheels up and comms silence until further notice. Make whatever calls home you need to. After that SOP is no communications of any kind. Not even via secure communications. When the agent gets here every mobile device gets turned in and locked up.”
Mentally my brows hitched, but outwardly I nodded. “Start phoning home, ladies, then power down and be ready to stow your devices.”
Jared moved away and reached into his pocket for his phone, undoubtedly to call his wife. The rest of the men had cells in their hands, trying to place their last calls home.
I trotted up the steps and went into the private cabin in the back of the jet. I closed the door, shut off my cell, tossed my bag on the floor, and sank down in a plush seat to wait for the CIA mission officer to arrive for the briefing. I’d been on enough of these ops to know that was the cargo we were waiting for. The fucking spook was late.
There was no one I needed to call because I’d uploaded to my Black Star Security cloud my video letter to Ella if something happened to me. I crossed my arms and stared forward, but then in my peripheral vision I noticed something lying on the seat beside me.
A brown envelope.
I picked it up.
It was heavy.
The writing on the outside I recognized at once. How the fuck had Lee gotten this on my transport plane? I read the boldly penned note: “Meet me at the BAR when you get home.”
My heart jumped into my throat.
It was a double entendre from Lee.
Meet me at the BAR when you get home. Translation: Be safe, I love you. But BAR in all caps caused me to frown because it turned the word into code: burn after reading.
It was stupid. Something he did sometimes on the outside of a Lee being romantic letter. But as I weighed it in my hands, it felt too heavy to be a single love letter from Leland, even with how he ran on and on with his thoughts.
I stared without opening it, unsure if I wanted to know what was inside. It was hard enough going out on this op with where things stood between us.
I fingered the writing on the envelope.
Sealing my heart, I shoved it unopened into my bag.
Whatever was in there could wait.
Right then, it took everything I had to breathe and leave.