Page 74 of Bad Wolf
He stands tall and smug, hands on his hips, smile a mile wide, basking in the pain he’s inflicted on me.
“You happy now, Lieutenant Colonel?”
“You ready to talk?”
I scrub my face and nod. I do not want to run or throw up any more than I already have done.
“You’re a sadist,” I mutter, taking in deep breaths, wincing at the pain as I walk off a cramp with my hands on my head.
“And you just hit rock bottom.”
I nod again and my chest cracks. I feel wiped, drained. Exhausted.
I feel lonely, betrayed, and so goddamn hurt. I wipe angrily at the tears that have no business being there, and when he pulls me to him, his big hand crushing my head into his shoulder and holding me tight with the other, I let go and bawl like a little boy.
“There you go, Son.”
Even as a military officer, he never forced us to shy away from our feelings. Instead, he encouraged us to find healthy outlets.
Raging mad? Let’s go a few rounds.
Hurt and on the verge of tears? Let’s hug it out.
Hyped up on adrenaline or buzzy with latent energy? Get on the rink, get in the pool, go for a run.
And in this moment, with him holding me in his tight grip, promising it can all be fixed, thatIcan be fixed, that it’s all going to be okay? I think it really might.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
KNOX
The Lieutenant Colonelstayed the whole day yesterday, and we talked for hours. I really needed him, and I was sorry it had taken me this long to admit that.
He listened to how Wren had broken me to essentially save me and my brothers, and then how I’d felt deceived by them when she returned.
He was my sounding board while I sorted my way through every emotion.
Dad asked me some hard-hitting questions. Like did I need rehab? And honestly, I had to really think about it. I was using booze as a crutch, but was I dependent on it? In the end, I gave myself an ultimatum.
If I couldn’t keep from taking a drink from now until the end of the season, I’d go to therapy. I was finally talking things through and hoped this had just been a blip. I’m determined to get back in shape.
Mind, body, and soul.Yeah, I just said that.
Dad played devil’s advocate and made me see it from Wren’s point of view—stuck in a hard place between me and her old man.
When his parting words to me were how proud he and Mama were of me, I nearly lost it again, but after a rollercoaster of a day, I was feeling stronger and my head was finally clear.
I even had a solid eight-hour sleep.
Still, I was tired as fuck at practice this morning even with having a full night’s rest. It was an early one too because we had a film session to get through.
I was sinking electrolytes like they were gonna keep me alive. Now we’re back in the city and it’s only midday. This pad is sweet for game days, but it’s a bitch when we have an early practice, especially on a Saturday.
The three of us head straight for the couch, and I groan at how much I ache. Rule number one of being a professional athlete; always stay hydrated. Every muscle screams at me to never drink again. My head hits the generous cushions when I flop down onto them.
“Be done Knox, let this go, please. For everyone’s sake,” my brother says from above me.
I open one eye to see he’s towering over me. He doesn’t need to give me this lecture, but he’s going to anyway.
