Page 20 of Ravaged From Fate

I’ve not seen the guy since he left the medical clinic. I was waiting for him to turn up the next day, seeing as how bruised up he was by those guys. I thought he might need another look at his wounds, but he didn’t show. The man must’ve been bearing it out at home. Typical man behavior, that.

Well, at least Piper or Sam from the bar have told no one about the little incident the other night, and it’s even better they’ve not mentioned that I dragged the mysterious new stranger in town next door alone to the clinic. That bit of juicy gossip would’ve sent a hell of a lot of tongues wagging in East Springs. It’s the last thing I want, and I’m sure it’s the last thing our silent brooding new guest would want either.

“He just walked out of the gym?” I ask. “Did he say he was coming back or anything?”

“Nope,” Cyrus replies. “Elsa, I’ve seen guys like Caspian before. Trust me. Guys like him are battling demons.”

“Oh.”

Maybe he really is a serial killer…

“How did you two meet?” Cyrus asks me. “I thought you weren’t on the search for men at the moment. I recall our last conversation when you said you ain’t got no time for a man.”

I chortle. “That’s true. And he isn’t some date or anything. We kinda ran into each other because of a bar fight, that’s all.”

Cyrus’ mouth drops. “You? In a bar fight?”

“It wasn’t me. He stepped in and things… got ugly between him and a few thugs.”

“Did he save you from some baddies?”

“I don’t like your mocking tone, Cyrus. And no, he didn’t save me. It was more like I saved him.”

Cyrus giggles like a schoolgirl. It’s such a weird sight coming from such a giant of a man.

“Sounds like he’s a man in your life, Elsa.”

I furrow my brow. “Well, you can’t talk, Cyrus. How’s Juniper going? Still going to the gym? How are you two?”

“Don’t talk about her,” Cyrus growls.

I smile. “And don’t talk about Caspian either.”

The man shrugs. “Fair deal.”

10

CASPIAN

I spend my empty days walking. Going nowhere in particular. No plan to have, no purpose for what I’m doing. I just have an overwhelming need to move. To get out of my head.

East Springs is an isolated town surrounded by wilderness, so I stick to the main roads and walk with no end in sight. I always make it back by nightfall, and I will today.

It’s weird not to have my days filled with Ravaged. No more meetings or press interviews, or recording sessions in the studio, or concerts, or private jet travel, or signings. Now my days have nothing for me to do with it but walk. It’s liberating in some ways and incredibly scary in others. To be honest, I don’t know what to feel.

As I walk, today and every day, I try to blank out my raging thoughts and instead focus on putting one foot in front of the other. I don’t want to be reminded of who I truly am. The man with the pent-up anger boiling inside him, ready to explode. The man who jeopardized his whole music career because of a moment of pure aggression. To my former band mates, punching that asshole journalist might’ve seemed like a one-off incident, but I know myself well enough to understand precisely what I’m capable of if not removed from society. That paparazzo was lucky he was merely knocked out. Knowing myself, I could have done a whole lot worse.

There aren’t many cars that pass me on this road leading out of East Springs, so I’m surprised today when one zooms past, spins around, and comes screeching to a sudden stop on the road opposite me. Mere yards away.

My hands instantly and instinctively form into ready fists and I curse myself under my breath for being caught out here where I’m so vulnerable with nowhere to go. No means of escape unless I dive into the forest on my side.

I squint to see who’s in the car.

And then I recognize them.

If it weren’t for the sword tattoo plastered over the leader’s face, the gang members’ black eyes – that I gave them the other night – would’ve given them away.

Their window winds down.