“Come on, Nix.” Kye walked over, keeping his expression casual even if his smile was tight. “Coach will be pissed if you show up at practice tomorrow with a broken rib or two.”
“Your confidence in me is astounding.” Sarcasm clung to my voice as I flexed my hands testing the wraps. They felt good, tight, but with enough movement.
Grabbing the ropes, I started hoisting myself up, but Kye stopped me with a hand to my shoulder. “What happened?”
“Nothing I didn’t already know,” I said, shrugging him off, refusing to remember how she’d looked standing there, glaring at me. Spewing those traitorous words at me.
“Don’t do this, man. I’m begging you.”
“I’ve got it, don’t worry.” I hooked the ropes and climbed inside, banging my fists together as I sized up Meathead. He was big. Bigger than most of the guys I fought. But where he was big, I was angrier.
And he was about to feel a whole world of hurt.
“Motherfucker,” I grunted, the air whooshing from my lungs as he landed another hard jab to my stomach.
That was going to hurt tomorrow. But the pain was a good thing. The pain numbed all the other shit.
Doubled over, I tried to catch my breath, inhaling a ragged breath. It burned, my muscles tired and weary. We’d been at it for a while. Dancing around each other, testing each other’s strength and weeding out the weak spots. I’d given Meathead an impressive split lip and he’d returned it with a cut right above my cheek. My eye was already swelling, but I’d ice it later. When this thick-necked asshole ate dust.
“End it, Nix,” one of the guys shouted; a couple of the other guys who had stopped training to watch, cheering along.
“What do you think? Ready to call it a night?” I smirked, baiting Meathead. Adrenaline surged through my bloodstream like a drug, making me feel invincible. Making me feel like a motherfucking god. Nothing could touch me here. Not Joe or Jessa or school or Coach…
Or her.
Inside these ropes, darkness reigned. I gave over to the beast living inside me, the bitter disappointment and lingering stain of shame.
I wasn’t good enough. I never had been and never would be, and that had never been clearer than tonight when I came face to face with the girl who had always held my heart in the palm of her hands.
Harleigh had always made me want to be better, so much better.
Without her, where did that leave me?
The memories came thick and fast. Too fast. I couldn’t shut them out, couldn’t switch them off and force them back into their little box.
Meathead used my distracted state to his advantage, coming at me like a bull out of a gate. His fists rained down on me. A jab to my jaw, two to my ribs. Someone yelled my name. Yelled at me to pull my head out my fucking ass and focus, but it was too late.
I staggered back against the ropes, the coppery tang of blood pooling in my mouth.
Everything hurt.
Hurt so fucking good.
I gave Meathead a feral grin. “Do it,” I spat, spraying blood into the air. “End it.”
He grinned back, letting out a dark chuckle as he said, “It would be my pleasure.”
Pain exploded along the side of my face as he made the hit that knocked my feet from under me.
Down I went…
Down.
Down.
Down.
Reveling in the pain, the blistering agony radiated through parts of my body. I knew it would pass though. The pain would end, and the numbness would fade.
And in the end, it would hurt far less than my dirty ravaged heart.
“I could kick your fucking ass,” Zane grumbled as he and Kye helped me to my car.
There was no fucking way I could drive, so Kye climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Zane to deal with my broken ass.
And I was broken.
Meathead had done a real number on my face and ribs, but I was too high on Vicodin to care.
“I love you, Washington, man. You know that right.” I tapped Zane’s face, grinning like a fool.
Fuck, those pills Bryson had thrust at me were some good shit. I was flying. Soaring across the motherfucking sky.
“Get the fuck in the car.” Zane shoved me inside and pain lanced through me.
“Whew, that is some crazy shit. I feel like I got my ass handed to me by The Hulk.”
“You did.” Kye added from up front. “What the hell are we going to do with him?”
“I’ll take him with me. My gran will clean him up.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, just get us there.”
“I can do that.”
I opened my jaw, trying to work out the stiffness, but the Vicodin made everything numb.
Zane shook his head at me, running a hand down his serious face.
“You need to lighten up, Washington. I almost had him.” Laughter spluttered out of me, a little raspy and wet.
“If you’ve cracked a rib, so help me fucking God, Nix…”
“It’s only bruising.” At least, I hoped it was.
“You’re a dumb asshole sometimes. After everything, she’s still—”
“Don’t.” Pain—a different kind of pain—shot through me. “Just… don’t.” I tipped my head back and closed my eyes.
“You can’t let this happen again, not now. Not after all this time. It’s senior year. We’re so fucking close, Nix. So fucking close. Tell me you get that, man? Tell me you won’t let—”
My eyes flew open right as my fist shot out, ramming into the back seat.
“She’s fucking inside me, Z.” Pain and frustration bled from every word. “Buried so fucking deep, I don’t know how to cut her out.” I reached over and grabbed his arm, despair rippling off me. “You have to help me, man. You have to make it stop.”
“We’ll figure it out, Nix. I promise.”
“You mean that?” My swollen gaze met his and I smiled weakly. “Because it’s been one day, and I already feel like I’m losing my fucking mind.”
Birdie was back.
She was back, but it wasn’t the same.
Nothing was anymore.
But what did I really expect?
They said you didn’t really understand what you had until you lost it. Well, I knew firsthand how true that statement was. But no one told you that it was more than just words and heartache.
It was visceral.
A physical alteration inside you.
A hole that over time festered and grew and turned into something ugly and rotten.
It was something that changed you so much that you were never the same again.
Harleigh
“Harleigh, come on, open up.” Celeste banged softly on the door again. Well, as softly as a bang on a door could be.
After I’d all but dragged her into Strike One, I’d demanded her and Miles take me back. She wanted to know what had happened, I hadn’t wanted to talk about it.
I still didn’t want to talk about it.
I couldn’t.
Not without edging closer to that dangerous line.
It made no sense why he was there tonight. Watching me.
Stalking me.
I didn’t understand… couldn’t organize my thoughts into any kind of order that made sense.