Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3) by Wendy L. Wilson Read Free Book Online

handle, my hand grips to a hard metal knob and I pull, doubting I may even have the strength to get it open. To my surprise, I swing it forward with a stealthy force I didn’t know I had; with hidden strength that should have been used to fight earlier, however, I was frozen; too scared to move, to do anything except be a victim. Is it my fault?
    A crackle sounds behind me and I look up, aware of my surroundings for the first time. My eyes are fogged over and more streams of water continue to fill them as I stare ahead at the cracked mirror above the sink in the shower house. The light is on, yet the room is still dull; dark and filled with the dusty odor of mold and mildew. My throat wobbles and my stomach clinches as I run forward, throwing myself over the sink as I hurl. Emptying my stomach, one painful catapult of my body at a time, I cry harder, letting exhaustion, shame and sorrow consume me.
    After a few minutes my stomach stops ripping me apart, I look down at the mess in the sink as the smell of the pizza I ate earlier takes on a whole new image in my mind. I’ll never eat that again. It takes me a few minutes to clean up my mess, too embarrassed that any sign of me being here will let everyone see the dirty images in my head. I toss the wad of paper towels into the trash and take a deep breath. Calm down, calm down, I repeat over and over to myself, hoping it will take my heart and head to another place; a moment in time that was beautiful, not ugly. Everything is ugly now.
    Glancing up, I look at my reflection. Is that me? My lip curls into a snarl and I’m disgusted by the sight that looks back at me. I want to scream at it. Flinching as I continue to stare, I fight to resist shouting that it is all my fault; that I’m to blame. How’d it happen? Did I say something that made him think that it was ok, or do something that offered it up as an option he felt was available to him?
    I drop my arms to my side, all energy and emotion slowly dripping out of them. I look down for a second, sure that there will be a puddle at my feet; a small river of tears and possibly even blood from my heart being torn from my soul. On top of all the pain and agony inside of me my bladder screams, but I don’t even want to touch myself. I’m scared. I can’t tell anyone ever.
    After minutes of more sobbing, gagging, shaking until I swear I’m suffering from seizures and after painfully wiping any traces of the incident away, I make my way out of the shower house, numb and not knowing where I can go. I glance over to my cabin and a surge of vomit begins to quake in my stomach. Immediately dismissing any thoughts of going back home, my eyes catch sight of a light suddenly appearing right ahead of me; Evan.
    I wipe at my eyes, rubbing them with the back of my hands so there is not a single sign of my tears as I race for his camper. I think this is where I saw him go the other day. My mind speeds faster than my legs can carry me, running through possible things to say if he doesn’t answer the door and even things to say if he does.
    Are you busy? At midnight, I’m sure he’s just hanging out waiting for company.
    I was just going for a walk and wanted to say hi. Again, it’s after midnight.
    Panic rises to the back of my throat, but it’s too late. My knuckles hit the door with a quick tap-tap before limply falling back to my sides. The silence is deafening as I listen to the thud of my heartbeat, wondering if somehow it could be his footsteps moving towards the door.
    With a loud grating-creak sound, the small metal door comes open and I step out of the way.
    Evan’s eyes widen in surprise. “Piper. Hey…what’s up?”
    He stands in the doorway in a loose tee shirt and baggy black gym shorts. I tremble, unable to form words. The smile that usually adorns his face falls, and a look of absolute concern and alertness takes over as he steps down the three steps and places his hand on my shoulder.
    “Hey, are you ok?”
    I