Chapter 41
KADENCE
Ipummeled the punching bag until my fists ached.
Annika was alive, but it was my fault she got hurt to begin with.
I needed to give myself to whoever this person was so they could stop hurting the people I cared about.
Several more blows to the bag, and I felt my knuckle split.
I growled in frustration and hit the bag more, anger, guilt, and fear scorching through my body.
Hot tears streamed down my face as I staggered away from the bag and I brushed my hands through my sweaty blue trestles, feeling the blood smear.
I wanted to find the person that did this.
Was this how Blaize felt? I felt useless.
Blaize had the means to do something while I was just in the way.
I needed to do something before I went insane.
My best friend was shot, and she could have died.
I looked at my hand, watching the blood drip from my knuckles to the ground.
Wrapping my shirt around it, I grabbed my phone.
Annika was alive and texting me about how much she hated being in the hospital.
She would get to go home tomorrow. Only two days passed, but it was the longest two days of my life.
I wanted to visit her at the hospital yesterday, but I knew she would be overwhelmed with the guys constantly asking if she needed anything.
I had a therapy appointment tomorrow, and as much as I wanted to cancel it to spend time with Annika, I knew I couldn’t.
My mental health had gotten a lot better, but this was going to affect me.
It was already affecting me, and I needed someone else to talk to other than Blaize and the guys.
They felt the same way I did—pissed. I needed a neutral point of view.
What I really needed was to find this bastard, and maybe I wouldn’t feel like I was spiraling.
ME
How are you?
ANNIKA
IF ONE MORE GODDANG PERSON ASKS ME THAT.
Sorry. I’m okay. I never realized how mother henny my guys were. They are driving me insane. Please rescue me when I go home tomorrow.
ME
You know I’ll be right there. I have therapy tomorrow.
ANNIKA
Good. You know it’s not your fault, right? The guys said you took it hard. I’m not angry at you, and I’m alive.
ME
I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I locked my phone and dropped it to the side, grabbing the tape in my bag.
Wrapping it around my knuckles, I made a fist, feeling a sting of pain.
I needed something else to distract me, so I called Hunter.
Blaize was dealing with Reaper business, and I didn’t want to bug her when she was trying to figure this out.
I texted her and told her I loved her before hitting Hunter’s contact number and calling her.
She said she’d be at the clubhouse in ten.
I grunted when Hunter landed a punch to my face. “You need to focus.” She swung again and I dodged her fist, but ran into her shin. “Focus.” I thought training with Drew and Blaize was intense, but Hunter was a different beast.
My fists curled and I rushed in, throwing everything I had at Hunter: rage, fear, guilt, and a tornado of other emotions run free.
Hunter allowed it. She was blocking my frenzied hits until my body gave in, and I crumpled to the ground.
Hunter dropped to her knees and pulled me into her arms as I sobbed.
“Let it out.”
And I did.
It was ugly, uncontrolled, and soul crushing.
“Everything happening is my fault!”
“No, it’s not,” Hunter reassured. “The person responsible is the person that shot at you and hit Annika. The one that hurt Fallon and killed Layla. This is not your fault. No one blames you.”
“I never should have come here. I should’ve just fucking died in New York.”
“Stop,” Hunter snapped. “You are alive. You survived. Crying about it won’t stop what’s happening around you. Fight. And then when we get the asshole who did this, the life you want is going to be here.”
“I don’t want anyone else to die, goddamnit.”
“We won’t let it happen. Blaize is working on it. We’re figuring this out. You need to focus.”
“I really hate you.”
“Cry about it.”