Mr. Mitchell Billionaires' Club Book 2 - Raylin Marks Page 0,82

through everything that kicked me in the ass up until now. Today had been hell to say the very least. My life was a goddamn tornado, and Jim had just gotten to experience the worst part of it. My emotions were everywhere, and after sitting in jury selection all day, my car overheating, and my daughter being stranded, I had reached my limit.

I couldn’t believe my dirt bag of an ex decided to confront Jim, though I should have. Couldn’t Derek see that, when Jim stepped out of his car, the man towered over him? I’d seen the biceps Jim sported, and I wasn’t surprised when Jim blocked Derek’s punch. Jim was a better man than I was a woman in that respect. I saw him exercise self-control that I couldn’t imagine any man having after someone tried to throw a punch at them. With Jim’s scorched-earth look I’d seen so many times? I would have sworn Jim would follow through and send Derek to the ground. Instead, being the man he is, he opted for the better route—the route that kept me from screaming and cussing out Derek while Jim beat his ass. He walked away and got me safely out of there after I knew the house was locked, Derek was gone, and the cops were on their way to make sure the asshole didn’t show back up at the house. What a fucking life I had.

Jim remained quiet while I continued to pull myself together, eyes still closed. I was doing great until I felt the car moving, then slowing, then moving again.

Must be in traffic. It’s okay. Just stay calm, Avery. Please, God, just breathe. It’s okay. I’m okay. I inwardly reached for meditative and supportive words, feeling a panic attack bubbling up. I couldn’t let my mind get the best of me. Not right now. I kept whispering thoughts of reassurance to myself to prevent my heart from racing wildly out of control.

I lost my battle against these emotions of doom I was experiencing in a panicked state of mind. My heart was beating faster than a rabbit’s and when I felt the car slowing again, I felt trapped in the vehicle. I opened my eyes to gain my bearings. Bad idea. We were stuck in traffic on the freeway. Fuck. I needed out of this concrete jungle. I felt stuck with no way out, and my anxiety spiked instantly. I fucking hated panic attacks and now I was my own mind’s victim.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I said, leaning over and burying my face in my hands. “Fuck.”

“Hey.” Jim’s hand was on my back. “Avery.”

“You have to get me out of here. Please get out of this. The freeway, get off,” I said through my hands. I made no sense, but I felt like I was suffocating and couldn’t say the right words if I wanted to. “Please, please. Jim, I need off. I need to get out of the car.”

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he said calmly. “I have to get to the exit. We’re jammed up for a second.”

I threw my head back, gasping for air, sweating, and trembling. “Please.” I was bawling now. “Just let me out here.”

Jim hit the accelerator, and my body was pinned to the seat by the G-forces of the car. My eyes reopened to see Jim, speeding past stopped traffic on the shoulder of the road. I held on for dear life.

“This is illegal,” I managed.

“So is walking on the side of the freeway,” Jim said, then veered off the freeway and maneuvered the vehicle through city streets.

He stopped the car, and I didn’t give a shit where we were. I had to run this shit out of my system, or I was going to have a stroke. I was out of the car, taking off like a bat out of hell in my ballet flats, feeling like I couldn’t run fast enough.

I wanted to scream it all away. I wanted to take my daughter, disappear, never to be found again—my God, I wanted Derek gone no matter what it took. I’d never felt hatred burning so hot in my veins until now. I pushed myself harder with every stride I took. I saw what looked like a park entrance to my right and then stopped to see if my endorphins had curbed my anxiety.

I bent over, gripping my knees and just focused on good, healthy deep breaths. My heart was still racing, but my breathing was helping me to