I let out a low growl. I need to calm the fuck down—but I’m so close to losing it. We both know what he's been doing; it works every single time. The motherfucker knows just the right buttons to push.
“Why didn’t you come to me?” He wipes his face with his hand. “I could have helped you.”
“And how would you do that? Erase the last six years from my memory?” I snap.
“No.” He clears his throat. “But we could… you know, talk about your feelings and shit.”
“About my feelings? You mean the fucking guilt that’s eating me alive right now?” I hiss, smacking a fist over my chest.
“No, the guilt that’s been eating at you for years.” He crosses his arms.
“Yeah, and now it’s ten times worse.” I spread my arms as wide as I can.
“I know. I mean, wow. It’s all fucked up.” He whistles. He always does that when he’s overwhelmed, and it’s annoying as fuck.
"Tell me about that." My anger deflates. A minute ago, I wanted a fight. I was craving it. I was craving physical pain that maybe—just maybe—would replace the emotional one. A broken bone, a split lip—anything would do. And Alex knew it. The fucker wanted to rile me up. He knew what hugging Kayla would do to me. He always knew how much I hated that I had the hots for her, and now all he had to do was to touch her and my possessive side would come out to play. Fuck, why did he have to start talking aboutfeelings?
Kayla’s been causing a ruckus in my brain since the day I first noticed her. She was eighteen, five years younger than me but looked all twenty. I was a marine back then, in my glory years. I couldn't get involved with someone so much younger than me. Back then, five years seemed like fifteen. So I kept my distance. Even when I noticed her puppy eyes every time she looked at me. All I had to do was walk up to her and smile, and she’d be putty in my hands. But I wasn’t that man.
I enjoyed watching her. I saw her change from a spirited girl to a highly opinionated woman who stood her ground. A woman who kept adding art to her body no matter what the town thought of her for doing so. And I loved what I saw. At that point, she was like a light at the end of the tunnel I was never going to reach. I never planned on acting on my obsession with her; I just enjoyed watching one woman being so different and so…herself.I didn’t even want to get any closer. I didn’t want to destroy her.
Untilthatnight. That night I stopped admiring her, and the hate began.
Even through the haze of crimson in my eyes, I noticed her. Noticed that she was there. I tended to ignore my surroundings and become a one-task man. It happens with everything I do: working—that’s how I got my own auto shop without the help of my dad’s money, fighting—I always win, fucking—they always come back for more. But I noticed her and heard her. I still remember what she wore: black ripped jeans and a pink flowy top with open shoulders. Her hair had blue in it, and she had a few less tattoos than she has now.
I noticed her, saw her, and hated her on the spot. She was protecting the other guy. It didn't matter that I nearly beat him to death and that my girlfriend sat in the car after telling me that that asshole deserved it for forcing himself on her. No. None of that mattered. What mattered was that she protectedhim. I hated her for it.
Later that night, my sister was raped, and I hated the whole world. I thought she was the one who called cops on me, resulting in me not getting to Alicia on time; I had a valid reason to hate her. A very valid one.
Until I didn’t have it anymore.
Until I’m left to face the truth. One that I’m simply not ready to face. I can’t hate her anymore, which means all that hatred gets redirected to myself. I was the only one to blame. I was. Still am. I’m not ready for that. I'm not prepared for the world as I knew it to not only do a one-eighty on me but a three-sixty. All in the same week.
“So, what are you gonna do about it?” Alex rubs the nape of his neck.
“About what exactly?” I ask with a humorless laugh.
“About Kayla. Ashley. Everything, really.” He whistles again. “I don’t even know where you’d start with that.”
"I wish I knew. I want to destroy Ashley's life. I want to so fucking bad. For Alicia and for Kayla. And for all the shit she's done over the years that I closed my eyes to. But fuck, man, someone needs to destroy me for the same thing." My eyes tingle, and I hate that my non-existent allergies are coming back.
“Yeah, Ashley needs to get what she deserves.” Alex agrees instantly.
"It's not like I can go and punch her in the face." I've thought about the many things I know and how I could use them against her, but I don't have an actual plan on how to do so. If she was a man, it would be a different story, but she's not, so the task is much more difficult than I initially thought.
"Maybe you should mention it to Freya; she'd do it in a heartbeat." Alex chuckles.
"Aren't you worried about your girlfriend?" I raise a brow.
“Please,” he snorts. “You haven’t seen her mad. I’d like to see the poor sucker who dares to go after someone she loves.”
I chuckle, imagining Freya punching anyone. Kayla, on the other hand… A tiny Valkyrie on a war path—that I can picture vividly. Fuck, what do I do with Kayla now?
“And what about Kayla?” He asks after a pause, reading my mind.
I groan, hanging my head low. “I wish I fucking knew. I don’t know what I want to do with her.”
“I do.” He announces with a smile.
