Breaking Through (The Breaking Series Book 3) (17 page)

Surprising me, Gui rested his hand over mine. Heat passed from his warm skin to mine, and I swear I could feel that in my core. “I don’t want you to be scared anymore. Please, let me help you.”

How could I say no when he looked at me with those big, pleading, pretty eyes? When he had his hand on mine? When he leaned close and I felt the tiny sliver of safety emanating from his tall, strong frame?

I sighed, knowing I was going to regret my next word. “Okay.”

***

I took in a deep breath and stepped inside the stable.

“
Oi
,” Gui said with a lopsided smile. He stood in front of a stall that I remembered being empty before.

“Hi,” I said, coming to stand beside him. The stall wasn’t empty anymore. Belle was in there. “Why is she here?”

“Because she’s away from the other horses here.”

I looked up at him. “You put her there?”

His grin flashed bright. “
Sim
.”

I frowned. “How long have you been here?”

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked the time. “Twenty, maybe thirty minutes?”

I gaped at him. Why did he come so early again? To talk to Leo maybe. But Leo’s SUV hadn’t been in the parking lot when I parked my car. Shouldn’t he be, I don’t know, training? Doing something more useful with his time?

“I …” I what? What would I say to him? I couldn’t ask him why he came so early because I was afraid of the answer. I cleared my throat and watched Belle again. “So, what are we doing today?”

“We’re taking a step back,” he said. “Instead of letting Belle loose and having you get used to her like that, I isolated her, so no other horse can interfere, and you’ll approach her here with the lower half of the door between you two.”

In my mind, I saw Belle snorting at me and retreating to the back wall of the stall, far from my reach. But so far, she stood there, right in the center, curious about what was going on.

“Oh-kay, so I just stand here?”

Gui took a step toward me and reached out with his hands. Before he could touched me, he stopped and looked in my eyes. “May I?”

I gulped and nodded.

His right hand rested on my lower back while his left hand clamped my left upper arm. He put pressure on my back, and I took a step forward, bumping the tip of my boots on the door. Sliding his hands down my arms, Gui grasped my wrists and placed my hands on the door.

“Stand here.” He withdrew his hands from me, but he didn’t retreat. I was painfully aware of how his body was a couple of inches away from mine.

My arms shook—if it was from horse-related nerves or from Gui-related nerves, I didn’t know.

“Now what?” I asked, my voice low.

“Horses can sense your emotions. Belle will know if you’re stressed, nervous, or afraid. So just stand there, look at her, and will your fear and nervousness away.”

I scoffed. “If only it was that easy.”

A warm hand clasped my shoulder, squeezing gently. “I know it won’t be, and it won’t be fast either, so just try to relax as much as you can. Small steps. This is all about small steps.”

Gui squeezed my shoulder once more, then withdrew his hand. Instantly, I felt a cold rush seep through my skin where his hand had been.

I shook those thoughts and feelings from my mind and body, and focused on why we were here. Exhaling a long breath, I rolled my shoulders and looked at Belle. She stared back at me. I swear, her gaze was intense, as if she were reading my soul and taking notes of all my sins and flaws. It was unnerving.

I wondered if this was something similar to what Hannah did with the problematic horses, to get close to them, to gain their trust. How long did she have to wait? Five minutes? Thirty? An hour? I wasn’t sure I was that patient.

After several minutes, Belle huffed and advanced a couple of steps. I gasped and tensed.

“It’s okay,” Gui whispered, his voice close to my ear. “Relax. You’re doing great.”

I was dying here. I didn’t know how many more minutes passed in this tense game, but finally, Belle was within reach.

“Go on,” Gui whispered. “Touch her.”

I stopped breathing. Touch her? Was he sure? He had mentioned small steps. After having her get close to me on her own, touching her seemed like a giant leap.

“She’s okay, Hil. She’s used to people. Maybe she remembers what happened the other day, but she’s fine about that now. You’re the one holding back.”

Once more, Gui guided me. He closed his hand around my wrist, steading my shaking arm, and reached forward. He leaned over me, his chest almost touching my back—I could feel his body heat and his breath on my ear.

Surprising me, my fear didn’t spike. I had been tense just standing here; now, with him so close, I was even tenser. However, the usual fear that came from being so close to a man was nowhere to be found.

Carefully, Gui guided my hand until it was resting on top of Belle’s head, right between her eyes. She didn’t flinch or snort or run away—like I expected her to. A long exhale escaped my throat, and I smiled.

Belle pushed her head against my hand, and still holding my wrist, Gui slid my hand to under her chin.

“Scratch her. Gently,” he said. I did it and Belle let out a sound like a loud sneeze. “It means she likes it.”

Gui slipped his hand from mine, sliding it up my arm until it rested on my shoulder. I turned to face him and froze. His face was only about three inches from mine. My eyes flicked to his mouth. He pressed his lips in a thin line, lowered his gaze to the ground, and stepped back.

“You’re doing great,” he said, his voice tight.

My emotions surprised me once more; disappointment made its way through my chest. As best as I could, I ignored the unwelcomed feeling and turned my attention back to Belle. I was still petting her and she still let me.

I ran my hand up and down her face and neck, feeling her smooth, shiny coat, her strong muscles, her blood rushing inside her. Meanwhile my thoughts drifted someplace else. To someone else. Why hadn’t I flinched when Gui touched me? Why hadn’t I felt sick with fear when he got that close? Why hadn’t I run away crying and screaming when he stared into my eyes?

A mix of feelings overwhelmed me, confused me, and still I felt the absence of fear.

A single tear broke free and ran down my cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered, turning my eyes to Gui again. “Thanks for insisting on helping me through this.”

His pose still stoic and guarded, he nodded. “You’re welcome. But just to be clear, this—” He gestured to my hand on Belle. “—is just the beginning.”

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Because of having to design a bride’s dress, a maid of honor’s dress, four bridesmaids’ dresses, and a mother of the bride’s dress to be ready in a little over two months, I ended up working late on Thursday.

It was almost six in the evening when I left Fallon’s studio. Of course, she was still there, laboring away.

My car was parked on the thin strip of concrete Fallon called a parking lot. At least it fit our cars, parked tightly at the back of the lot, and about four or five other compact cars. Maneuvering in or out wasn’t always easy, but today, there was only Fallon’s and my car there.

As I turned the corner from the sidewalk into the parking lot, something charged me and rammed my body into the building’s wall. My back hit the concrete wall with a loud thud, and the pain radiated through my body. My lungs compressed and I gasped for air, which didn’t come, as a clammy, strong hand closed around my throat.

I scrambled to focus, to regain composure, to understand what was happening. A face appeared before my eyes, only a couple of inches from mine. A man’s face. A man’s face I had seen only once before.

Mike, Evie’s abusive husband.

Panic rose from deep inside my chest.

“What do you think you’re doing, bitch?” he asked, his voice rough. His breath reeked of alcohol.

I gasped. Even if I knew what to say to him, I couldn’t. Fear paralyzed me, and his hand on my throat was tight enough to make speech difficult.

“Mike,” I tried, but it came out as a croak. “Let … let me go.” I pushed on his shoulders, but the man didn’t budge. “Please.”

He punched the wall, half an inch from my face. Desperate tears filled my eyes, making my already blurred sight worse. “It doesn’t matter what kind of ideas you put in Evie’s head, she’ll always come back to me. Always.” He jerked me off the wall, only to push me back hard into it. My head slammed against the facade, and my vision went dark. “You’ll regret it, bitch.”

His hand tightened around my throat. I was swimming in a dark sea made of oil. Even though I moved my arms and legs, fighting with each stroke, the oil carried me further and further from the shore, until it swallowed me, and I couldn’t do anything other than let it take me.

A gush of air rushed down my throat, burning its way to my lungs as I slid down the wall and fell on the concrete ground in a numb heap. Through the pain and burning, I gasped, willing my lungs to work. Slowly, my hearing focused and my vision cleared.

With a bloody nose, Mike spat at my feet, then turned and ran.

Gui knelt in front of me.

I stared, in shock. He had a cut on his lower lip and a red bruise on his left temple. His eyes, though, his eyes looked at me with pure concern and fear.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. I still stared, not sure what had happened. “Hil, answer me, please. Are you hurt?”

I started shaking my head, but pain radiated through my skull. “Ow,” I muttered, closing my eyes and pressing my hands on the top of my head.

Gui cursed under his breath. “All right, let’s go.” He took my hands in his and pulled me up. Still shaking, I could barely stand. A wave of dizziness overcame me and I leaned against the wall for support.

“Just … give me a moment,” I rasped, my throat still burning.

“Where are your car keys?”

“Purse. Outside pocket.”

He glanced around and found my purse on the ground, my portfolio case next to it. He picked up my things, grabbed the car keys, clicked the button to open the car, slid the strap of my purse up his arm, put my portfolio case between his knees, then he slid one arm around my back and the other under my knees and lifted me as if I were a rag doll.

“What …?” I started protesting, but with the shaking and the dizziness, I could barely take two steps on my own.

Somehow, Gui picked up the portfolio case with one of his hands and carried me and all my stuff to my car. He stopped by the door, raised one knee, and rested my bottom against his leg, while he opened the door and threw my stuff in the backseat, and then he picked me up again and deposited me on the passenger seat. He ducked inside the car with me, and pulled the seat belt around me. I could feel his arms and hands touching me, and I knew that, another time, another day, I would actually like this, but today I was too numb to think about him like that. One good thing I realized as he raced around the car and slipped into the driver’s seat was that, even though I had all the reasons to have a panic attack now, it didn’t come. And I should have been cowering from him too, and I wasn’t.

Gui started the car. “What’s the closest hospital?”

“W-what?”

“Hospital. You’re hurt and I’m taking you to the hospital.”

I pressed a hand where my head had hit the wall, then stared at it. It still hurt like crazy, and every time I moved my head too fast, the pain radiated everywhere, but there was no blood.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“No, no, you’re not. I’m taking you to the hospital. Tell me where the nearest one is before I search for one on my phone.”

Looking into his eyes, I laid my hand on his extended arm. “Gui, I’m fine now. Yes, it hurts, but I think I’ll only have a bump. Please, don’t take me to the hospital. I
hate
hospitals.” In my gaze, I tried to show him I was serious, I was honest.

I saw the battle in his eyes. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel and his jaw popped every few seconds. He wanted to argue, he wanted to disagree, but with an exasperated sigh, he nodded and backed out of the parking lot. I watched him as he turned the car toward our building, and for the first time, I noticed his clothes. He was wearing black sweatpants and a blue Montenegro T-shirt and sneakers. His hair was disheveled and his phone was strapped to his arm.

“You were out running,” I said.

“Yes. I change my course every few days, so I don’t get bored. I started running down this street three days ago.
Gra
ç
as a Deus
.”

“Thank you.”

Eyes on the road, he shook his head. “You have nothing to thank me for. I just wish …” He pressed his lips tight.

“What?”

“I wish I had been able to knock the guy unconscious and call the cops. Or at least landed a few more punches on him before he got away.” He stole a quick glance at me. “
Que merda
! What happened? The guy was robbing you? Or …” He shut his mouth, probably too afraid to say the R word. I was too.