It took years, but I did it. Pushed my body on the daily to build myself into a beast of a man. I live each day with the purpose of righting the wrong done to us.
When I reach the cabin, fury is a vise wrapped tightly around my throat. I can barely breathe. Sweat trickles down my face, and every muscle in my body is tense to the point of snapping as I swing open the door.
Kerri looks up from cutting strawberries, the smile dying on her face. “Havoc, my God, what’s wrong?”
I stomp over to the fireplace and drop the wood. “Nothing.”
“Really? Because you look like someone called your dog ugly.”
“I don’t have a fucking dog.”
Or a cat, thanks to Casper.
Fucking great.
More kindling on the fire.
She rolls her eyes as she takes an iron skillet from the oven. A German pancake, baked to golden perfection, lies on top. “It’s a figure of speech, you grumpy bastard.” She gets serious right quick. “Wait, did something happen? Is there someone out there? Should I be worried?”
I drop the wood by the fireplace. “I said nothing is fucking wrong.” I stalk to the bathroom and slam the door. This is why I retreat to the Death Star. Because when my past gets too loud, I can’t be around people until it goes quiet again. “Give me a goddamn minute, Kerri.”
“Fine,” she snaps. “Pardon me for worrying.”
Did she kick the door?
Temper, temper, Duchess.
I hear her footsteps retreat as I roll up my left sleeve. I don’t have my knife on me, but no worries. This isn’t my first rodeo. The Death Star is my haven, and I made sure I’d never get caught unprepared. I grab the razor blade I have hidden in a groove above the medicine cabinet, and already I’m calmer. More in control of myself. The first drag of the blade over my flesh stops the sweats. The second helps calm my breathing. And the third, the deepest cut, fades Emmett’s face from my mind.
But it’s the fourth that works the most magic.
It silences Discord’s broken whimpers that still haunt me after all these years.
My ritual complete, I drop onto the closed toilet and evaluate the damage. Admire my work. The last two cuts are deeper than I intended, but Christ, it’s euphoric. Pain vibrates up my arm, a drug more potent than heroin.
I clean the razor and replace it in its hiding spot. Add gauze to my arm, then give the sink a quick rinse to wash away the blood. I quit the bathroom, ready to battle Kerri. Instead, she throws me for a loop by greeting me with a single lifted brow as she sets the last plate of food on the table.
“Finished being an asshole?”
If I thought Kerri was aloof the day I met her, that’s nothing compared to the icy woman who takes a seat and begins picking at her food.
“For now.” I sit opposite her and motion to my plate. “Thanks for breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.” She nods at the fireplace. “Thank you for bringing in more wood.”
We eat in silence until it becomes a living creature. The sound of us chewing grates on my nerves to where I’m about ready to flip the damn table. Each of her measured movements is another flame rising from my temper as I watch her lift that fucking fork to her mouth.
When I can take not one more second of her silent treatment, I heave out an annoyed sigh. “I’m fucking sorry I snapped at you.”
I’ll be damned if that’s all it takes for her entire demeanor to soften. “I fucking forgive you.” She shakes a finger at me like she’s scolding a child. “You scared the life out of me. I thought someone found us. Don’t do that to me again.”
And fuck me if I’m not chastised.
“Fine.” I shovel a forkful of her delicious German pancake in my mouth.
“Havoc.” The breathy way Kerri says my name prickles the hair on the nape of my neck. “I’d like to think we’re friends.”
“We are,” I admit tersely, curious to see where Kerri’s going with this.
