Chapter 10
KADENCE
Iwas done allowing my trauma to dictate my future and letting people hurt me.
Caden was dead, and with that, so was the little girl who craved her parents’ love, the woman who loved a man so much it killed her.
She was gone, and she was never coming back, so why was I holding onto her life?
I was done being a pretty punching bag for everyone else to control and abuse.
Kadence Hayes was taking the reins and writing her own goddamn story.
Sleep was meaningless, and what was the point of trying if all I saw were Liam, Dominic, and Blaize haunting my dreams in different ways?
I was fucking angry. I was hurt. I wanted to scream and let all my rage out before I fucking exploded and did something rash.
This town had a lot to offer…maybe I could steal a motorcycle to get a hit of endorphins to help my mood. I was supposed to be a goddamn badass.
I slipped into a pair of grey sweats and one of Theo’s old band t-shirts.
There was a lot of pent-up energy inside me, and while I knew rest was helpful, my mind wouldn’t shut up for me to relax.
I walked to the front door and opened it, letting cool air hit me in the face as I stepped closer to the railing.
The metal was cool beneath my touch. It had been four days since the incident, and I was on a constant downward spiral.
HUNTER
How are you?
ME
Alive.
HUNTER
It’s okay to be angry.
There was no trying there.
ME
Of course I’m angry, because who the hell reacts like that?
I’m sorry Layla is gone and Fallon is fighting in the hospital, but all I wanted to do was fucking survive.
I was never the villain in this story, just the innocent who got pulled into the crossfire.
HUNTER
What do you need?
ME
I need time.
The twenty-three unopened messages from Blaize bugged me, but I refused to acknowledge her.
She was apologizing and asking me if I needed anything.
She wanted me to talk to her, and yet she couldn’t talk to me prior to hurting me?
And then she had the audacity to show up here without an explanation, wanting to talk? No. Fuck that.
What I needed was time to think and decide if I could let her hurt me again. I’ve never been one to leave someone I loved alone, but this time, I needed to focus on what I needed, instead of making someone else happy.
My phone made the locking noise as I tucked it into the pocket of my sweats and rested my head into the palms of my hand. Who did I piss off in a past life to get a shitty existence with a pile of trauma, sprinkled with maternal neglect and a boat load of daddy issues?
I debated for several minutes on stealing Annika’s car and going for a joyride to clear my head, but I opted against it. There was a lot I didn’t know about Westhaven or the surrounding areas. With my luck, someone else would try to kill me.
The door opened and when I expected Annika, Drew came outside with a gym bag. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Work off some of that energy. You need a breather and to punch something.”
“I’m not punching you.”
He laughed, walking down five steps before looking back at me. “There’s a gym I go to when sleep escapes me and I need to quiet my mind. We’re going to spar.”
“Annika?”
“Is sleeping comfortably between Noah and Theo. There’s a note and a message waiting for her if she wakes up in the next three hours.” I shrugged, following him downstairs to his dark blue Jeep. If I was going to spiral, I might as well do it with a punching bag.
There was no one at the small gym, and for that, I was grateful.
I didn’t want to socialize or see anyone else when my mind was like this.
Drew walked to a worn red punching bag that had been through the ringer.
I wondered how much of the bag’s tears were from him.
He handed me a pair of fingerless gloves, and I eyed him.
“You’ll hurt yourself. Self-mutilation is not how healing works.”
“I think it did pretty good for me in high school.”
He glared at me and I smirked, pulling the leather gloves onto my hands. “Tuck your fist in, and attack the bag. Just let all the anger and frustration out into the bag until you can’t do it anymore.”
He held the bag firmly, and I took a deep breath, clenching my fingers. He wanted me to unleash all my anger without realizing we’d be here for a long time.
I jabbed the bag hard, thinking about Nathan.
I was angry at him for leaving me alone.
Jab. My mother for leaving. Double jab. My dad for being a neglective asshole.
I continued to punch the bag in angry sets, thinking about all the shit that had gone wrong in my life.
Dominic and Liam faded together as my punches became more frenzied. Then I faltered when I got to Blaize.
The final punch was weak as the dam exploded and a sob ripped from my lungs.
Then I was angry again, hitting the bag again and again with hot rage-filled tears in my eyes.
I wasn’t just angry at Blaize, I was pissed off at myself for letting our connection fester like it did.
If I would have told her who I was when she asked, this would have been avoided, but I was never great at listening to people.
One would think I’d learn after what happened to me in New York.
A guttural scream erupted filled with fury and anguish.
I stopped punching the bag and rested my head on the abused leather and sob.
Drew left me alone for a second to let everything out.
I never realized this was what I needed.
It felt like there was a crushing weight lifted from my shoulders and for the first time in months I could breathe again. “Let everything out.”
A few minutes passed and I straightened my back. I still felt lousy, but finally I was crying, screaming and letting my pent-up rage make me feel a hell of a lot better. I was nowhere near ready to face reality, but it helped.
“Now we spar.”
“Why?”
“Hunter and I learned from Blaize. I can teach you how to protect yourself and in the end, it will put you in Blaize’s shoes if something like this happened again.”
I crossed my arms across my chest. “Okay. If it helps me protect myself. I’m tired of everyone using me and my feelings as a punching bag.” I chuckled for the first time in days. “Pun intended.”
“Have you ever done any self-defense?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t take anything seriously. My dad was an asshole, but he made sure I got into karate, and up until my sophomore year, I stayed in it.”
“What color belt did you have?”
“Blue with one tape thingy. I knew about twenty-five percent of the stuff, but that was eight years ago.”