16. Chapter Sixteen #4
I hadn’t noticed until tonight, just how strained the two men are. There are obvious cracks that I hadn’t seen before now.
I try not to give it any more thought than it deserves.
That is their business. I have more shit to worry about than the state of their pack.
The air has a slight chill to it tonight, and I am thankful for the blazer and the bit of warmth I’m soaking in from Holden’s body.
I turn my head, laughing as Dominic drops his keys for the third time since we reached the parking lot.
He’s got this whole broody Alpha thing going on, but the man’s a damn dork.
I come to a complete standstill when I see the dark shadow leaning with his back against Holden’s car.
You have got to be fucking kidding me. Now, of all times. I almost roll my eyes at the sheer poetry fate seems to fuck with.
Sasha-mother-fucking-Volkov.
Every ounce of warmth drains from my body.
I haven’t seen him since I returned. Well, not since that first practice.
Truth be told, I had been terrified of what I might feel when I finally did.
Would I be able to stomach seeing him? He was the ringleader, after all.
Still is as far as I know. He was the one that decided that my life wasn’t worth his time, deciding that I should have been the one to pay for the mistakes of the murderer who raised me.
And I did.
I paid for it in flesh, blood and tears.
It’s been months, but from the pain and weariness etched across him, it looks like it’s been years.
His face is covered in stubble that he has let grow, not keeping it cleanly shaved like he once had.
Dark circles hollow the space beneath his blue eyes, his shoulders no longer carrying the same effortless confidence they once did.
Good. I like the idea of seeing the pain on his face.
The evidence that this has hurt him just as much as it has me.
That he suffered as much as I did. I refused to ask Holden or Dominic about him.
I hadn’t wanted to know. It may have wrecked me if I did.
All I knew was that he had taken mental health leave.
As his coach, I should have contacted him.
As the owner of the club, I should have checked in on the captain.
Just like I had done with Sebastian. But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t stomach it. Each time I tried to pick up the phone, a cold sweat settled over me.
I wasn’t ready to face them in those early days of taking over the team.
I still don’t know if I am ready for it. But I know I will have to be. One day. But did that day have to be today when I’m crawling out of the arena, well after hours, smelling of the proof of what we’d just done?
There is a look of disbelief on his face as he looks between the three of us. At the way we are all standing with each other. My hand in Holden’s. The clear connection between us, even if it is fragile. There is still something there.
He goes to open his mouth, but nothing comes out. I see him fight himself. Searching for words that simply don’t exist. Because what do you say to the woman whose life you helped ruin? I can’t do this. Not right now.
Dropping Holden’s hand, I don’t bother giving either man a word as I stalk off to my car, leaving my three scent matches standing behind me.
I’m running. It’s cowardly of me, but I’m just not ready.
Maybe one day I will be. It’s not in me to carry this kind of weight around, because in truth, I deserve peace.
But that day isn’t today. Yet, why does every part of me want to turn around and face him?
To let him have it. To let go of the hold this anger has on me.
To free myself from the clutches his betrayal has on me, if only so I can wake up in the morning and it’d be a new day.
A new start to the otherwise chaotic day.
Why, despite it being a horrible idea, do I want to look into his eyes, and hear his side.
He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve my understanding. Ugh, I need to go to bed.
Today has been a whirlwind of emotions. The game.
The win. The heat spike. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.
But for now, he can sweat on it. He can see just how fucking damaged all this is.
Because he chose to hurt me. He chose his own pride and need for vengeance over the chance of real happiness.
The chance of letting fate create something so beautiful, we could have been something enviable.
Something people scoffed at because we made them sick.
We could have had it all. I didn’t think I ever wanted to be part of a pack. And I meant that.
Do I have it in me to move past it all? Their pack is obviously on the rocks.
I refuse to be the one they blame for that.
That was all them. They can sort out their shit on their own before crawling back to me.
I need more drama like I need a hole in the head.
I have spent so much of my time cleaning up other people’s messes. This one isn’t mine.