He felt very hot and very cold at same time and his mind refused to work. It was as if everything had suddenly
tripped at the same time: a swooping sensation in his stomach hooked up through his throat, disturbing his heart enough to skip a beat, hands clenching, shoulders stiffening, every instinct to yell and curse and burn like a vicegrip on his insides.
It had been a long time since Jack had experienced this sort of fear: not the kind he had become acquainted with as Famine's lab rat, not
mortal fear, but something more personal.
His breaths were strangely shaky. He should have been saying
something, but it was as though he'd forgotten how to speak. Garbled words waited, choking him in his throat. He shouldn't have set up the experiment, he shouldn't have trusted Ian, he—he shouldn't have even had those shoes around him anyway—
Jack hung up without a word.
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