Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
DREW
Minutes turned into hours apparently. The room grew darker, a muted light flickering through enough to light up the target in front of me.
Every hit I made, every swing, hook, jab, and kick made me feel that little bit freer.
I’d almost forgotten what had driven me there…
until I heard my name fall from her lips, cutting through the war in my mind enough to bring me back to the present.
I hit the bag with one last, fatal punch, watching as it swung out before flying back to me with a challenge, letting me know it wasn’t done. I wasn’t done. I stopped it with my thigh; my hands still high as I kept my back to her and pulled in angry, violent, dirty breaths.
I could hear her shuffling on the weights bench behind me as she fidgeted. She took in a deep breath, and then another, and another, until she whispered two words.
“I’m sorry.”
Sorry. She was sorry. It seemed so easy, didn’t it?
Two words that should have been able to make me turn on the spot, strap a smile on my face, and tell her all was forgiven.
Except I wasn’t that man. I never had been.
I’d been born into a family where loyalty was our religion, where lies were dealt with in a fight, and where losing trust in someone meant making them the enemy.
Only this was Ayda.
She wasn’t my enemy. She never would be. As long as I had breath burning in my lungs, I’d fight to protect her, to save her and make her happy. I’d die for her a thousand times, each occasion getting more bloody and brutal if that was what it took to keep her safe.
Yet, I couldn’t take her apology. I couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal as I stood there with sweat pouring down over my eyes, down my spine, and my knuckles throbbing from the fight I’d had with myself
I swallowed harshly as my breaths sawed in and out, in and out, taunting me with their reminder that I wasn’t in control.
I jabbed the bag one more time, but I was too soft and it wasn’t enough, so I did it again. Harder that time, more frustration bleeding out through my muscles as I began to hate the way her apology made me feel.
Ayda didn’t make any kind of move. She sat quietly, waiting, her breaths coming deep and trembling on the exhale.
I began to move harder and faster, my feet bouncing back and forth with every new challenge the bag set me.
I was like a raging bull, everything flaring and charging as I hit and swung like never before.
The tension wasn’t leaving. It was fucking building…
climbing higher, higher, impossibly fucking high until I wanted to turn around and roar in her face with all the anger she’d made me feel.
In the end, I stopped all at once, catching the bag in both hands and dropping my head to it as I let my mouth fall open.
The silence lingered between us, the only things interrupting it being my breathing and the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my chest.
“Answer me something,” I eventually wheezed out.
I heard a shuffling and the soft tread of her boots as she approached cautiously, finally stepping to the other side of the bag.
Her hands reached out, palms pressed against it with the same amount of caution she’d executed in her approach.
I twisted my head on the bag and glanced her way.
Her face was pale, but she didn’t hesitate in raising her head and peeking up at me behind her lashes.
“Anything.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
She sucked in a breath, her full face now in my view. Her eyes flickered to mine, resignation shining through. “Only to protect me.”
“Have I ever given you a reason to trust Sutton over me?” I asked, the hurt making my voice sound angry instead of pained.
Recognition flashed in her eyes, and her forehead landed against the bag. I could still see her eyes because they were still holding mine. “Never, Drew. That’s not why he knew.”
Releasing the bag, I straightened my body, raising my chin and setting my jaw tight as I glared at her and took two steps back, my arms hanging limply by my side. I needed more distance.
“Have I ever made you feel like you can’t talk to me? Like you can’t tell me anything you want, no matter how much I might fucking hate it?”
“Never,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Haven’t I done everything in my power since the day we got together to make sure you can be open with me?
Haven’t I broken myself, split my heart wide fucking open, become someone…
something… that isn’t easy for me to be to keep you happy?
Haven’t I done that, Ayda?” My voice was low and threatening, the betrayal making it husky as I set my face to stone. “Haven’t I?”
Ayda pushed her forehead against the bag, physically moving it before rocking back on her heels, her palms catching it on the backswing. I couldn’t tell if she was fighting tears or trying to find the right words.
“Jesus, Drew,” she eventually snapped. “Haven’t I done enough to show you that I love you for who you are?
I fell in love with you because of who you are.
I’ve never asked you to change. I’ve never demanded you tell me more about club business because I trust your judgment about what I can handle.
This wasn’t about betraying you. This wasn’t a ploy to hurt you.
This was something I needed to do because when I wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, my heart in my throat, you’re the first thing I search out.
The first thing I need to remind myself that we fucking made it.
You almost died in that warehouse, and all I can think about is how I don’t think I could live if you had died because you’ve become the reason I get up every morning.
You’re the reason I smile, laugh, and cry with frustration.
I love every part of you, and I just want to be the woman who stands by your side.
A woman you can be proud of. I’m not looking for a fight. ”
She balled one of her hands and pushed against the bag, her breathing becoming labored.
“I just want to protect myself, and if something ever happens, I want to be able to protect the things I love and care about. Don’t you understand?
Can’t you just for a goddamn second see it from where I’m standing?
I hate myself for how weak I was that night.
I hate myself for how close you came to death because I couldn’t defend myself against two men who jumped me while I waited for you.
You got hurt because I couldn’t defend myself. ”
I huffed out a humorless laugh. “And there it is.” I snarled, raising my hands in the air before slapping them back down against my thighs.
“There it is. The very reason I walked away from you at the diner. The bullshit excuse, the justification, the Hanagan special that makes everyone else feel shit for what she’s done to them.
” I shook my head slowly, my breaths getting more labored as the anger rose and shook my muscles.
“You know, you can dress this up all you want. You can stand there with your puppy dog eyes and expect me to break. I want to break. Fuck, you have no idea how much I want to break right now and tell you it’s okay.
But it ain’t fucking okay, Ayda. You say you never ask me about club business, and you’re right, you don’t.
But every time I go out of that door to do something nasty, I tell you that you won’t like it so don’t ask me.
I don’t stand there and make up lies about going to work and then sneak off with another woman—a woman who doesn’t know shit about what I need in my life. ”
I took another step back, hating the way I was reacting. Distance was the only thing I needed. Distance.
“You say I’m the first person you reach out to, but it didn’t quite work that way when you wanted to go behind my back and become something else, did it?
You talk the talk, baby, you really fucking do, but all I’m seeing on your face and all I’m hearing in your words are excuses as to why you ain’t walking the walk.
You lied to me. You. Lied. To me. Nothing you say will change that, and I hate the way I feel right now when you are the one person in this world besides Pete who I thought couldn’t lie to me at all. Not even about the small stuff.”
I dropped my chin to my chest and shook my head, planting my hands on my hips and flexing every angry muscle I possessed.
“Sutton,” I said under my breath. “Fucking Sutton.”
Ayda laughed bitterly, and rounded the bag, closing the distance between us with her eyes dark and filled with a rage that met mine.
“You just love making me sound like a two-faced bitch, don’t you?
There goes Ayda making it all about herself again.
Well, you know what, Drew, it comes down to this: The truth is, I bought a gun not long after the attack.
I carried it in my purse for another week not even knowing how to put bullets in the fucking thing.
I decided I needed a concealed carry license to make it legitimate.
Sutton was the only person in the station when I went to pick up the paperwork.
I didn’t want anyone to know. It’s not—” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, letting them flicker open again, some of the rage dissipating.
“I’m not asking for your forgiveness for owning a gun or learning how to use it.
I am really fucking sorry I kept the shooting lessons from you, though, and kept the fact that I even owned a gun from you.
I get that I royally fucked up. I even understand why you’re so fucking furious with me.
What I can’t stand is this accusation that it’s what I set out to do from the beginning.
It isn’t. No one was ever supposed to know. ”
She backed away from me, her hands going up to run through her hair and tug at it maniacally. She turned her back to me as she got a handle on her emotions.