Chapter 66 Harlow
Harlow
Training was useless, because what the hell did training do for me when it mattered most?
I was useless when Xavier took us, but I was focused on saving Lizzy.
When Vincenzo took me, I didn’t fight. I was lost and broken without Caterina.
I let him destroy me again. Now we’re back to square one of fighting and self-defense?
No. I wasn’t going to do it.
Natalya walked into the gym like a force. Her hair was different, and I liked the change. It fit her badass persona. This woman was intense and everything I wished I could be. I wanted to be strong, brave, and a badass, but I was still scared—and I was sick of being scared.
Natalya didn’t give me a minute to breathe.
She demanded me to the mat the moment she made it to the center.
There was no point in arguing with her. Maybe a fight was what I needed to silence the screaming in my head.
She was forcing me to move, forcing my body to stay alert as my mind was drifting to places I didn’t want to return.
My lungs felt tight, but before anything could happen, I dodged Natalya’s fist.
“Focus,” she deadpanned.
I lifted my fists, clutching them until my knuckles were white. I lunged for her, my footwork sloppy as she kicked my feet from under me. My stance stumbled, but I didn’t fall, which surprised me. Maybe my rage and pain was pouring out of me and keeping me right side up.
“Focus on me, not the memories. Stop letting them win.”
“I’m not letting them win!” I screamed, leaping for her. My jabs were angry and rapid, but she dodged each one. Fighting with anger was not how we won; it was how the enemy found an opening—a weakness.
Natalya stepped into my space, jabbing me in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me as I stumbled back. My heel caught the mat, and I crashed to the ground. Pain blossomed in my head, bright and sudden as I was taken back there.
Useless. You’re nothing, Harlow.
“Useless.” The word was a harsh whisper, but Natalya heard it.
“When you give into the memories and the flashbacks, you let them win. If you think you’re worthless, then he wins.”
What kind of pep talk was this?
“You’re shitty at making people feel better,” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my forearm.
“I get paid to kick people’s asses, not talk about their feelings.” She sat down next to me, hitting my arm and making me move it away from her. She grasped my hand and pulled me up. “You are not weak. Your brain is betraying you, but you can’t let it win.”
“I’m not trying to let it win!” I snapped. “God, I am fucking tired of everyone looking at me like I am going to fall apart. He took me. He raped me again and again. I see him every time I close my eyes. I am free, but I am still fucking trapped.”
Her expression didn’t change. She was letting me vent and get this off my chest.
“He broke me.” My voice finally cracked. “He fucking broke me, and I am tired of pretending he didn’t. I am tired of acting like I am strong because that is what everyone expects from me!”
She didn’t blink.
My heart was thumping in my ears as she looked into my eyes. “Good.”
I glared at her. “What?”
“You think that bastard breaking you makes you weak? No. You’re human. You’re too deep in the pits of your trauma to realize he didn’t finish the job. If he broke you, truly shattered everything inside you, then you wouldn’t be here. You would have died way before he put those bullets in you.”
She stood up and I watched her. I didn’t know if I wanted to be angry at her or shake her hand. “You’re angry—pissed. You’re unraveling. And you’re scared. That means there is something left to salvage. Lucky for you, I know how to take that fear and turn it into a weapon to be used.”
“I’m not like you.” She arched her brow like I insulted her.
“You are a badass who can kick ass and take names. I survived, but what did I survive? He is in my head. He is ruining my marriage. He is winning even when he is tied up in the basement. I want the part of me he stole, but I don’t think I can ever get her back, not this time. ”
She extended her hand and helped me up on shaky legs.
“Accept the parts of you that are cracked. He didn’t break you, Harlow.
If he did, you wouldn’t be here. I know you didn’t want to show up.
You think this is stupid because it didn’t help you before.
I know how it works. If you tell anyone this, I will kill you.
” She looked at me and I nodded. “When I was taken, they all think Akim Bolkov didn’t break me, but he did.
The difference is I used what he did to me and trained harder.
My pain was morphed into a weapon, and eventually what he did to me was a memory. ”
Caterina told me briefly about her capture, but that no one knew what happened to her. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Vincenzo took pieces of you, carved trauma into you that no one should carry, and you’re tired—but you listen to me.
He didn’t get the part of you which matters.
The part that fights, the part that survives.
You want to stop pretending? Start here.
Get angry. Get pissed. And go let it out on the bag. ”
I walked toward the punching bag, adjusting my gloves. “Hey, Natalya?” She looked at me. “I lied, that was a damn good motivational speech.”