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Heat bloomed in Chase’s cheeks, but not from embarrassment. Fear and a mounting lack of air built on him, tensing his shoulders. The giant wasn’t pinching his chest at all, but he almost swore he was. His chest was tight with pain.
“Oh, Jesus,” the giant muttered. Chase caught a glimpse of those eyes again, but his gaze slid to the side as the free hand brushed at his shoulder with a fingertip. The nudge surprised him; it was far more gentle than a fingertip the size of his head should be. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Can I help you?”
Chase realized distractedly that the pain in his chest must be showing on his face. He shook his head distractedly and pushed against the grip around him, but his force was so weak. He had to blink tears from his eyes from the pressure.
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