Chapter 13

Ithought things between Shorty and I were headed in the right direction, but I was so fucking wrong. Shorty was pushing me away again. My girl was driving me to the brink of insanity, wanting to protect me from what? The fuck if I knew anymore.

I am getting impatient, annoyed, frustrated, and pissed off. Mixing all these ingredients is a recipe for disaster. So, I do what I do best to contain my fury—I work out until my muscles burn, I run until I pass out, and I….

"FUCK!" I roar, ripping the punching bag from the ceiling.

I get high off the adrenaline, forgetting everyone and everything around me. Whenever I'm around Shorty, her presence calms the warrior in me ready to battle another war.

I shut my eyes and see Shorty's beautiful face smiling while she danced in the rain. But then like a projector, the images changes to her lying on the floor soaked in her own blood.

If I had the power to revive him from the dead, only to kill him again. I would grab him by the throat and punch his face until it is no longer recognizable.

A punch for her pain.

Her agonizing cries.

Her cuts and bruises.

Her heartache.

Her grief.

Her sadness.

The damn red door.

I punch all those feelings with all my strength to remove the torture she keeps imprisoned in her mind.

"Yo, yo! Fuck, D!" Ash's voice forcefully pulls me back from my murderous thoughts.

"Shit! D, calm down!" he shouts over "Sabotage" by Beastie Boys blasting through the overhead speakers.

I push him off, and stalk toward the sink to wash the blood off my knuckles. The pain surging through my hand doesn't stop the agony ripping through my heart. Ash turns the music off as I wrap my knuckles. I turn around and lean against the sink, keeping my head down.

"What's going on with you, D?" Ash says in a quiet tone.

What's going on? Let's see…my best friend was supposedly dead and then we found each other eight years later. Regret consumes me knowing the hell she never escaped from. Her brother is missing, and I'm fucking pissed that my girl is pushing me away! That's what's wrong.

"Nothing," I lie.

Ash lightly kicks the bag on the floor. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. I got carried away." I brush him off and sit on the bench with my head between my legs.

"Bullshit," he says while taking a seat beside me.

We sit together in silence, and I mull over everything that just happened. The last time I lost control was a few years after we moved away from Shorty. I beat the shit out of some kid bullying a girl that looked just like her. All those feelings came back, and all I wanted to do was hurt someone.

"I'm worried about you."

"Don't be," I snap.

He sighs. "You're such a stubborn asshole."

"You need something, or are you just here to annoy the fuck out of me?" I snarl, standing up and walking to the other side of the room. I need to keep distance between us so I don't take it out on him.

"Yeah, I need you to pull yourself together before you find yourself in a deeper hole than you were in before Shorty was gone."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, really? I think I do. Shorty has been blowing you off and it's pissing you off."

I snag the water bottle off the table beside me, begging him to shut the hell up, but he doesn't.

"You're spiraling out of control, D." Ash walks toward me, but I step back further, not trusting myself around him.

"So what? I'll fucking deal with it like I always do."

"Oh, yeah? How?"

Being caged like an animal in the Pit and beating a man to a pulp.

Ash doesn't have to hear the words from me, because by his facial expression, I know he sees the darkness pooling in my eyes. I'm starting to lose myself to the darkness, and only Shorty can pull me out.

"Fuck, D," Ash breathes out, raking his hands down his face. "I get it, ok?"

"No, you don't get it, Ash. Just stop talking and leave me alone."

He takes a few more steps toward me. "I can't do that, D. You promised me you weren't going to head down that road again." His tone is softer this time like the concerned brother he is.

Before I can respond, my phone rings. Ash grabs the phone from the bench press and a scowl appears on his face.

"Seriously? Why is Roman calling you, D?"

I sigh, wrapping the towel tighter around my hand.

"Why is he calling you?" Ash repeats. I can hear the tension in his voice, a sign that he's holding back his anger.

"I don't have to explain anything to you, Ash."

Ash ends the call and throws my phone back on the bench.

Roman is the ringleader of the Pit. The pit is located on Roman's private property on the outskirts of the city. High paying clients from all over the country place bets on the best fighters, and I happen to be one of Roman's. Roman only calls his best men to fight, which I'm assuming is the reason he called.

Silence fills the room until his phone goes off, but Ash ignores it. He turns to face me and throws his hands in the air. "I get it, ok? I get it."

"You don't get shit, Ash," I argue, reining in my temper.

"Yeah, I do." He walks over to me, gripping my shoulders. "You miss her. You don't know how to handle not being around her. You're scared she's going to disappear on you. You love her."

"Shut up." I push him off me. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about, so just drop it."

I just want him to leave.

I don't want to hurt my brother but if he doesn't stop talking, my fist won't be the only thing that ends up broken.

"She's going through a lot, D."

Now he's just pissing me off.

"You think I don't know that? You don't think I see how much she's hurting?" My chest is heaving and I'm breathing heavy. "No matter how hard I try to be there for her, she tosses me aside like trash."

"It's not about you," Ash says quietly.

"No shit, Sherlock!" Rage bubbles up inside me.

"Her father almost killed her. Her father butchered his own wife! And now her brother is fucking missing. I know what she's been through so don't talk to me like you know shit!" I roar in his face.

"You done?" His calm tone and demeanor are pissing me off.

"Yeah, I am. So, get the fuck out." I point toward the door and stalk to the radio. But before I can hit play, his phone rings.

"Hello?" he answers. "What?" My entire body froze to the spot from the panic in his voice.

"What is it?" I ask, curious who he's talking to.

"Yeah, we'll be right there."

"It's Shorty."

Those two words are like a bullet to my chest.