Read Online The Best Part of Me by Jamie Hollins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jamie Hollins
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shouts were followed by the brain-numbing squeals of fifty chairs being vacated at once as the entire pub collectively began to vacate. The sound of breaking glass mixed with yelling, and the dull thuds of bodies colliding seemed to shake the stairs as if a herd of wild buffalo were stampeding on the other side of that door. Quinn hugged her knees and closed her eyes as the sounds of the fight came up the stairwell. Several times something or someone hit the door, and she jumped at the sound.
Her blood pressure rose, and Quinn tried desperately to remember the tips her therapist had told her for when she faced a panic attack. She hadnât had one in months, but as she sat by herself in that lonely stairway and listened to the brawl downstairs, the familiar feelings of helplessness swam all around her. Her breath started to run away, and the faster she tried to catch it, the less air she could pull in.
Something heavy hit the door below.
Belly breathing. Thatâs what her therapist had told her to do. Sheâd practiced it a hundred times.
Quinn quickly placed her right hand on her stomach and her left hand on her chest. She released a sigh, forcing her muscles to relax. She paused at the bottom of the sigh for a couple seconds, then slowly pulled air into her lungs.
A glass shattered against the wall. Quinn opened her eyes in time to see a few shards scoot under the door and hit the bottom step.
She quickly closed her eyes again and concentrated on the feeling of her lungs full of air. Wonderful, powerful air that fueled her blood with oxygen. Blood that ran through her veins and arteries to sustain life in her body. Her body, which was strong and whole.
A man roared on the other side of the door.
She winced but forced herself to gently release her breath. She felt her heartbeat begin to slow, her shoulders relax slightly, and the muscles under her hands unclench.
As if someone flipped a switch, all the noise from below stopped.
She knew it was absurd to feel personally responsible for what had happened in the pub. All sheâd done was sit at a barstool. It wasnât like sheâd thrown any punches or dumped a drink on someone to incite a riot. Yet her anxiety was racing at the thought that maybe her being there at that time had forced Ewan to be defensive.
God, if she thought the man hadnât liked her before, he was bound to loathe her now. She found herself saying silent prayers.
Please let Ewan be okay. Please let his pub not be in ruins.
After what seemed like forever, she saw a shadow pass under the door. She nearly jumped off the top step when someone pounded loudly on the other side.
âQuinn, open up,â someone yelled.
She quickly went down the steps but hesitated at the bottom.
âItâs Sean. Open up.â
She decided to trust her instincts and unlocked the latch. The door opened, and Sean was standing there with a smirk on his face. He didnât look beaten up, but his shirt was torn at the neck and his hair a mess. She tried to look around him to see the pub, but his large, broad frame blocked her view.
âAre you okay?â Quinn asked.
âYeah. Iâm fine,â he snickered, bracing his arm against the doorframe.
âWhatâs so funny?â
He shook his head. âYou should see your face. You look downright terrified.â
Annoyed that he found any enjoyment in the situation at all, she chose to ignore him.
âIs Ewanââ
She didnât have time to finish her question. The door swung open and slammed against the pub wall. Ewan came around Sean, and as soon as he locked eyes with Quinn, all the breath left her lungs.
He was seething mad.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.
Ewan pushed past Sean and grabbed her arm right above the elbow, pulling her up the stairs. Sean chuckled and slowly closed the door behind them.
She was trying to keep her balance, but Ewan was climbing so fast that she was
Her blood pressure rose, and Quinn tried desperately to remember the tips her therapist had told her for when she faced a panic attack. She hadnât had one in months, but as she sat by herself in that lonely stairway and listened to the brawl downstairs, the familiar feelings of helplessness swam all around her. Her breath started to run away, and the faster she tried to catch it, the less air she could pull in.
Something heavy hit the door below.
Belly breathing. Thatâs what her therapist had told her to do. Sheâd practiced it a hundred times.
Quinn quickly placed her right hand on her stomach and her left hand on her chest. She released a sigh, forcing her muscles to relax. She paused at the bottom of the sigh for a couple seconds, then slowly pulled air into her lungs.
A glass shattered against the wall. Quinn opened her eyes in time to see a few shards scoot under the door and hit the bottom step.
She quickly closed her eyes again and concentrated on the feeling of her lungs full of air. Wonderful, powerful air that fueled her blood with oxygen. Blood that ran through her veins and arteries to sustain life in her body. Her body, which was strong and whole.
A man roared on the other side of the door.
She winced but forced herself to gently release her breath. She felt her heartbeat begin to slow, her shoulders relax slightly, and the muscles under her hands unclench.
As if someone flipped a switch, all the noise from below stopped.
She knew it was absurd to feel personally responsible for what had happened in the pub. All sheâd done was sit at a barstool. It wasnât like sheâd thrown any punches or dumped a drink on someone to incite a riot. Yet her anxiety was racing at the thought that maybe her being there at that time had forced Ewan to be defensive.
God, if she thought the man hadnât liked her before, he was bound to loathe her now. She found herself saying silent prayers.
Please let Ewan be okay. Please let his pub not be in ruins.
After what seemed like forever, she saw a shadow pass under the door. She nearly jumped off the top step when someone pounded loudly on the other side.
âQuinn, open up,â someone yelled.
She quickly went down the steps but hesitated at the bottom.
âItâs Sean. Open up.â
She decided to trust her instincts and unlocked the latch. The door opened, and Sean was standing there with a smirk on his face. He didnât look beaten up, but his shirt was torn at the neck and his hair a mess. She tried to look around him to see the pub, but his large, broad frame blocked her view.
âAre you okay?â Quinn asked.
âYeah. Iâm fine,â he snickered, bracing his arm against the doorframe.
âWhatâs so funny?â
He shook his head. âYou should see your face. You look downright terrified.â
Annoyed that he found any enjoyment in the situation at all, she chose to ignore him.
âIs Ewanââ
She didnât have time to finish her question. The door swung open and slammed against the pub wall. Ewan came around Sean, and as soon as he locked eyes with Quinn, all the breath left her lungs.
He was seething mad.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.
Ewan pushed past Sean and grabbed her arm right above the elbow, pulling her up the stairs. Sean chuckled and slowly closed the door behind them.
She was trying to keep her balance, but Ewan was climbing so fast that she was
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