I hug them both and smile at Carrie and Cassa. “Hey girls.” Technically I am not their aunt. Carrie is married to Chad the lead singer of TAT and Cassa is married to Shame the drummer. They are like brothers to me and I have been a part of these women’s life since I was a pre-teen.
“How you holding up?” Cassa asks me with that same sad face they all had when Sully dumped me.
“Fine. I wish everyone would believe that.” I say with frustration.
“Honey, we know you aren’t. We both have been in your shoes. It’s got to be killing you.”
I sigh and look at them not wanting to fight the truth. “It is, but I am so mad I can’t seem to see past the anger of it all. God knows he is doing his best to break me.”
“Well, then I guess you ask yourself if he can? Only you know the truth there. But,” She pauses for the drama of it all as she looks at me.
“But?”
“But if you can’t get over him then maybe you aren’t supposed to. I married the devil when I was too busy mourning what Shamus and I had. In the end, we still ended up here with me bringing our daughter to dance lessons all these years later.”
I knew what she meant. Corey Knoxx had gutted Cassa and almost killed her. As making a point of soul mates, she had the walking talking truth of it with Shamus.
“I don’t know if that’s it or I just need closure.”
Carrie laughs, shaking her head. “Have fun with that. Closure only comes when you know moving on is the only option. Otherwise, seeking it out will only break your heart more.”
“Sorry to interrupt.” Valerie one of my other instructors says, making her way over to us. “Want to take a break with your friends? I can teach today?”
I realize I have tears and feel like a fool for crying over his stupid annoying sexy ass.
“Call Lex, go have a few cocktails and a good cry.” Carrie hugs me close.
“She is in California doing a video and Jen is working. I’ll be okay.”
Cassa looks to Carrie then me. “We will do cocktails and tears?”
I wish I could, but there is so much history with them and Sam that I wouldn’t feel right. I shake my head no and smile. “I really want to work and clear my head. But another time, I am sure this isn’t going to fix overnight.”
“Try to talk to him about what you are feeling without blaming.” Cassa squeezes my arm and pulls me in for a hug. “He hurt you and there is no excuse for how he did it, but if you take away how he did it and focus on why and what he was dealing with? I think it calls for a conversation at the least.”
I nod, knowing she is right but hating it. “What would you do?”
“Well, I married a creep, divorced him, treated Shame like a pile of shit and made him grovel for months. Then I woke up.”
I don’t know why her response stuck with me so hard, but it did. Shame left her with a letter, disappeared from her life only to reemerge a huge rack star. I don’t recall a whole lot from then, but I know they were fire and gasoline for the better part of a year. I also remember when they finally found the missing piece and fixed themselves together.
I want to believe that we could end up happily ever after. I love him, I am miserable without him. I just don’t know how to get passed that fucking letter…
Sam
I started lifting weights while incarcerated. It was an outlet at first where I was able to get my aggression out and I had a ton of it. After a while it became an action of peace. It calmed me down, took away my anxiety and anger. I thought of Kace, the shop, my friends but those thoughts all faded into the perfect brunette who’s heart I broke.
I keep the same regiment now that I am free. I start with thoughts of Kace and they turn to Mya. I have been in a new kind of hell the last three days after tasting her mouth, feeling her skin against my palm. The fight to get that girl to wake up and see what we have is worth fighting for. I know, fuck I know I didn’t fight when she needed me to, but there has got to be something said for my trying now.
What I expect to happen and what has, is completely different. There were so many times I knew I needed to reach out to her and apologize, but pride was a bitch. I didn’t want her to see me there. It was that simple. My girl was too damn good to sit with me between six in glass and a shitty phone. Prison is a humiliation I never want to experience again.
“Are you trying to make this harder for me?” Mya says from the opening of my garage where I am lifting weights. I set the barbell back on the stand and sit up reaching for my towel.
It takes me a minute to understand her meaning, but as her eyes sweep over my body, wet with sweat and tattoos on display, there is no denying the effect I have on Mya Dorian.
“Where’s your car?” I ask tossing the towel and drinking from my water as I sit up.
“I walked here. Lex dropped me at your gate.” She moves slowly, making her way to the swivel chair beside my work bench.
