Chapter Twenty #2
The sobs keep coming until my throat’s raw, until I can’t tell if I’m crying from pain, anger, or exhaustion anymore.
The morning chill seeps through my clothes, but I don’t care.
I just stay there, knees in the dirt, fingers tangled in the grass, trying to hold myself together before I fall apart completely.
Shadow
From the edge of the car park, I watch her. She’s small against the open space, hunched under that damn tree like the world’s crushed her. Every sound she makes feels like a hit to the chest.
I tell myself to walk away, to give her the distance I promised. After all, this is her own doing.
But I can’t.
She’s shaking, clutching at the dirt like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. And all I can think about is how I helped put her there.
Grizz’s words echo in my head. You wanted to test her, now you got your answer.
But this . . . this isn’t a test. This is punishment, and I’m the bastard holding the whip.
My hand curls into a fist at my side. I take a step forward, then stop. If I go to her now, she’ll push me away, and she’d be right to.
So, I just stand there, hidden by the shadow of the clubhouse, watching her fall apart piece by piece.
Kasey appears beside me, arms folded, her gaze following mine to the tree. “She okay?” she asks.
“Does she look it?”
Her brow furrows, eyes softening as she studies Remi. “She looks like a woman on the edge. Someone so broken, she can’t even breathe.”
My chest tightens. “Yeah,” I mutter, “she does.”
Kasey glances sideways at me. “And you’re just gonna stand here and watch it happen?”
I nod once. “Yep.”
“Does it feel good?” she asks quietly, not mocking but curious.
I shake my head, jaw tense. “Not really.”
“She’s hurt. You’re hurt. No one’s winning this.” She sighs, shifting her weight. “So, maybe stop acting like pride’s more important than love and just go fix it.”
I scoff, eyes still on Remi. “If only it was that easy.”
Kasey shrugs, stepping back towards the clubhouse. “It is, Shadow,” she says simply. “You’re just too damn stubborn to see it.”
She leaves me there, her words hanging heavy in the cool morning air.
Kasey’s words are still echoing in my head when the sound of heels on gravel breaks the quiet. I drag my gaze from Remi just as Sasha rounds the corner.
“There you are,” she says, her tone bright but grating. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
I don’t answer. My eyes flick straight past her to where Remi’s still on her knees beneath the tree, her shoulders shaking.
Sasha follows my line of sight and rolls her eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake. She’s crying? Bit dramatic, isn’t it? I actually held back.”
My jaw flexes. “What did you do?”
She blinks, feigning innocence. “Do? Nothing. I just said a few things. Harmless stuff.”
I turn to face her fully, voice low and dangerous. “Define harmless.”
Sasha smirks, fiddling with her hair. “I might’ve . . . hinted that you and I spent the night together.”
My chest tightens. “You what?”
She shrugs. “It wasn’t a lie, technically. You were in my room.”
My eyes drop to her shirt, my shirt, and I realise she’s used my drunken state in her stupid war with Remi.
I rub a hand over my face, shame burning through me. “Nothing happened.”
She tilts her head, lips curving. “No, but she doesn’t know that, does she? Maybe it’ll knock her off that pedestal she’s put herself on.”
My temper spikes. “You think this is a game?” I growl. “You think watching her fall apart is funny?”
Sasha flinches but quickly recovers, crossing her arms. “Relax, Shadow. You were a mess last night, and I helped you. I told you to sleep it off before you said something you’d regret.”
“I was looking for her,” I say, the realisation twisting in my gut. “You stopped me.”
Her smirk falters. “You were drunk.”
“And you took full advantage so you could shove it in her face.” I take a step towards her, and her confidence falters completely. “You’ve had your fun,” I warn, voice low. “Now, stay the hell away from her. From me. From this.”
Sasha’s mouth opens, but I’ve already turned away. My focus shifts back to the tree, to Remi. I cross the yard, boots crunching over gravel.
When I reach her, I stop just short. She doesn’t look up, doesn’t move, but I can hear her breathing is ragged and uneven. “Remi,” I say quietly. She stiffens but doesn’t turn. “I didn’t . . .” I pause, dragging a hand through my hair. “Whatever Sasha said, it’s not what you think.”
A shaky laugh escapes her. “You two have been saying that a lot lately.” Her voice is cracked and small, but it still hits like a punch. I crouch beside her, trying to find her eyes, but she keeps them glued to the ground.
“She told you we slept together,” I say. “We didn’t.”
Her jaw tightens. “You were in her room.”
“I was drunk,” I admit. “Too drunk to think straight. Too drunk to talk to you without saying something I’d regret. She found me looking for you, told me to sleep it off.”
Remi lets out a slow breath, still not looking at me. “And you did.”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “In her bed. Fully clothed. Nothing happened.”
“Apart from your shirt,” she whispers sadly.
Silence stretches between us. The wind moves through the branches above, carrying the faint smell of rain.
I reach out, my hand hovering near her arm. “You gotta believe me, Rem. I came looking for you. She stopped me before I could knock.”
“Why?” she asks finally, her voice barely a whisper. “Why’d you even bother?”
“Because I couldn’t sleep knowing you thought I didn’t give a shit.”
Her head lifts just enough for me to see her eyes, red, glassy, and full of something that looks a lot like heartbreak. “I don’t know what’s worse,” she murmurs, “you not caring, or you caring too late.”
The words hit harder than any punch I’ve ever taken. I sit back on my heels, the ache in my chest growing heavier by the second. “It’s all such a fucking mess,” I mutter. “Like we’ve both gone too far, and now . . .”
“Now, we can’t take it back,” she finishes, sounding defeated.