Burn Into Me (Into Me Series Book Two)

Chapter One - Miracle

Jet's POV

It's funny, the way the world works.

You can wish and work your ass off for something, dedicate years of your life to it, strive for it, want it so bad that you can feel it in your fucking teeth, and it will never come. You can try and try again, practically give your life, and the universe says "lol no." And then the second you do give up, accept defeat, come to peace with it, the universe finds some fucked up way to twist it all back on you, laughing in your face.

If there's one thing about life that's guaranteed, it's that nothing is guaranteed.

I sit on the edge of our bathtub, my leg bouncing anxiously. The heels of my hands run up and down the tops of my thighs, applying constant pressure to try to calm myself. Rosie lies on the floor beneath me, curled up on the plush bath mat. I can hear Jackson rustling around in the kitchen downstairs. Good. He doesn't need to see this.

I glance down at the watch on my wrist.

One more minute.

One more minute and I'll know.

Anxiety rips through me, stripping me down till I'm nothing but a skeleton. It leaves me shivering, shaking, trembling. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to take some deep breaths. My lungs don't seem to want to cooperate, however, so short and shallow breaths will have to do.

Frustration joins the anxiety, my leg bouncing harder in consequence. I can feel myself very quickly skittering towards a free fall, the break lines cut, the emergency break nowhere to be found. I drop my head in my hands as I try to slow my breathing, but the overwhelming pressure in my chest just seems to grow as my heart tries to escape its bony cage. The first few tears escape, threatening to unleash hundreds more. Tunnel vision takes over as my breathing becomes more ragged.

"Mon ange! I made you a shaken espresso, 'cause I know you didn't sleep that well- Jet?" I hear Jackson's steps settle in the doorway. A glass cup is set down on the counter, feet shuffling over to me quickly. "Jet, what's going on?" A body sits next to mine on the edge of the bathtub.
I- I don't know. I'm so fucking scared, Jackson. I don't know if I can go through this again.
"Hey, hey," he whispers, scooping his hands under mine to raise my face out of its hiding spot. "I'm right here, I'm right here, you're safe. Nothing is wrong, your brain is just playing tricks on you."

I look into his eyes, breath still short and sharp. The first sob escapes, shaking me to my core. Jackson doesn't say anything but rather pulls me into his arms. I hide my face in him, shielding myself from the outside world. He hushes me gently, his fingers running through my hair in an attempt to calm me down. I close my eyes and listen to his heart in his chest. Lub dub, lub dub, lub dub. His easy breaths and the pressure of his arms around me soothes my anxiety. Eventually, my sobs dwindle and a familiar numb feeling overtakes my entire body.

"There yah go, that's much better," Jackson mumbles, kissing the crown of my head. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Do I? Did anything even technically happen? It's more like nothing happened and that's the problem.

He lets me out of the hug, brushing some of my hair behind my ear. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer from me. I can't seem to make my mouth move though. He glances around the bathroom, his eyes landing on the countertop. He hums, understanding what is happening now.

"Do you want me to look or do you want to look?" he asks me, grabbing my hand in his and giving it a squeeze.
"I- I don't know," I whisper, shaking my head. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"We could rock-paper-scissors for it," he suggests. I snicker as he smiles at me. "Would it make you feel better if you did it?"
"Uhm, actually, can you please do it?" I mutter, casting my gaze down to my feet.
"Sure, anything for you." He presses a kiss to the side of my head. "Are you ready now?" he inquires.
"I guess. Let's just rip the Band-Aid off," I sigh, looking back up to the countertop.