Breathe

Chapter 10

Lucie

"This is bad," muttered Vinny, the intensity of his gaze almost burning a hole in the windshield. "This is really, really bad, Lucie..."

"Shut up," I hissed at him. It was too much work to drive this gigantic, bulky, rich-person SUV, worry about where the hell Cian was, and listen to Vinny's obnoxious groaning. We were nearly back to the Hornes' house, and I was making a plan in my head: if Vinny got the feeling in his legs back, I was going to help him up the stairs and to his bedroom, where I'd order him to go to sleep. If he was still paralyzed, I'd have to wake his mother up to help me.

The latter terrified me, so I hoped it didn't come to that.

"How are you doing?" I asked. "Can you wiggle your toes?"

I caught a flash of silver-gold hair as Vinny shook his head in the dark. Traffic and street lights flickered across his eyes, reflecting in their peaceful yet fierce blue. "No, Lucie, that's why this is bad. I can't feel a thing. I've been trying to move this whole time, but I can't."

"At least it's just your legs," I offered. "It was your whole body yesterday, if I'm right."

"That's not the point. The point is this shouldn't be happening!"

"Don't get snappy with me! Calm down!"

Vinny widened his eyes at me. "I just lost all feeling in my legs and you're telling me to calm down? I'm paralyzed! There's nothing calm about this!"

"Stop, Vinny, you're not paralyzed. It's just a side effect. We're going to figure out why this is happening and we're going to fix it, I swear. Just hang on," I told him, my tone graver than I had intended. He was apprehensive enough as it was; showing my anxiety would only make him feel worse. Vinny was as fragile as a sheet of ice over a lake: one wrong move, and he cracked.

He didn't respond, just exhaled and leaned his head back against the seat, shutting his eyes. Hair fell across his face, shielding parts of his silhouette. When he spoke next, his throat sounded hollow, voice wistful yet filled with sorrow. "What if it's easier?"

I glanced at him in concern. "Vinny?"
 "What if it would just be easier to be dead? What if the living world's just not where I belong anymore, Lucie?"

I shuddered, so taken aback by the harsh reality of Vinny's words that I nearly missed my turn. The Escalade thundered up the driveway; I swiftly put the car in park, yanked the key from the ignition, and turned to look at Vinny as the engine died. "Are you crazy? Listen to yourself! Just because there's some complications—none we weren't prepared for when we dug you out of the ground—you want to give up? What happened to your second chance? You're just going to throw that away? If you are, if you really are, then you're not the person I thought I knew. If you are, then you're not the kid who gave up his chance to move on just so his older brother wouldn't be alone, if you're going to—"

"Lucie," Vinny said.

I was startled by the way he said my name. He said it like a last resort; there was pain in his chest. "Please," he breathed.

I stared at him for a moment, then reached to disconnect my seatbelt. "I'm not giving up on you, so you're not allowed to either," I told him, then gestured towards his legs. "Now—any feeling back yet? Can you try to walk?"


"Uh," he murmured. "Faint tingling. It's coming back, but walk—"

"You're walking," I snapped, because I was not waking Mrs. Horne up. I had enough issues with her when she wasn't groggy and sleep-deprived. I hopped out of the car, coming around to the passenger side door and tossing it open. Vinny, with a sigh of disbelief, unclicked his seatbelt and uneasily slid himself out; I caught him against me, his feet dragging against the concrete driveway.