“Kitty,” he begged, and the agony in his eyes was more than I could stand. “Okay, talking about this is putting you at risk, and I don’t want—”

“Ha! Exactly!” I shouted at him as my throat closed even tighter.

“I won’t be at risk. Not any more than usual. No one’s going to be shooting at me, Morgan. It’s not the same, baby. Please.”

Shooting. Will. First the RPG that crashed Jagger. Then the next one that took down the medevac with Josh and Will on board. Then the small arms fire that hit Will in the sweet spot that wasn’t covered by Kevlar. Even the best pilots weren’t immune to bullets, right? We had no control in fate. No control. None. People died. And he bled out right there, in some dusty, rocky valley in Afghanistan, all because he’d been ordered to deploy. He was dead. And Jackson was deploying. Jackson, who had become my whole world. Jackson and that same helicopter. Jackson. Jackson. Jackson was talking. What was he saying? Jackson was deploying. Deploying. Deploying. Why had I let this happen again? My past was repeating because I was too stupid to stop it. The jam was sticky. The shoes went into the trash. The necklace. The necklace. The blues—

The air ceased. Pain erupted, so sharp it stopped my hurricane of a brain. I concentrated on my neck muscles and visualized them opening. Air rushed through again, and I gasped.

“Can you hear me?” His hands were on my shoulders. “You’re having an anxiety attack. Let me get Sam and your rescue meds—”

“No!” Using them was defeat. It was a step backward, and I was supposed to be moving forward. I was at a three. A three!

Unless I was triggered. Deployment? Trigger. Jackson flying? Trigger. Jackson himself…

“Sam!”

I ripped out of his arms and slid down the wall. Once my butt hit the tile, I drew my knees to my chest. Breathe. Open your throat. It’s in your mind, not your body.

“What is going— Holy shit.”

Thudding footsteps.

“She’s having an anxiety attack.” Jackson dropped to his knees before me. God, those eyes were so blue. Just like my sea glass. Blue. Blue. Blue. So beautiful. Of course I fell for him, and because I did, now he would go.

“Okay. Give me a second.”

“Just breathe, Kitty.” His voice was calm. Why was he so calm? Why was he still here? Didn’t he understand that I couldn’t do this?

My fingernails dug into my kneecaps.

“It’s okay.” He reached for me but thought better of it. “God, I wish you’d let me hold you.”

Can I hold you? Just this once before I go. The next time I kiss you will be after this deployment.

The vise around my throat squeezed.

“Move,” Sam ordered.

Jackson slid to the side.