“I only got a couple of days’ worth, they’re all gone now.”
I hand over the beer, and she sniffs the bottle before bringing it to her lips and downing a large gulp. “Huh, not bad.” She takes another long swig before passing it back. I’m barely paying attention as she pushes the bottle into my hands, too busy watching her. I take in the bags under her eyes, the dampened color of her irises and the hard edge to her that I haven’t seen in quite a while.
“You know, you don’t have to be so strong all the time. It’s okay to not be okay. You’ve been through more than most people experience in a lifetime. It’s alright to take some time and just process it all.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
There’s a determined set to her jaw, that newfound hardness solidifying further. I’m not sure if she’s trying to fool me or herself, but I don’t push her. If that’s what she needs to tell herself right now, then so be it. I—we—will be here when the words are no longer enough to hold her together. For now, I pull her in against me and kiss her forehead, and hope I’m not losing the one thing that makes me feel alive.
***
Prying my eyes open the next morning, I groan when they land on Cam’s sleeping face, lying on my goddamn pillow, so fucking close I can smell his god-awful morning breath. Fucking gross.
Sitting up, I’m surrounded on all sides by half-naked men. Jesus, fuck, what has my life become? Hadley’s gone, and when I check my phone, it’s not even five a.m. yet.
Climbing out between the sleeping bodies, I pull on a pair of sweats and saunter through the apartment, quickly realizing she’s not here. When I check her bedroom, though, I notice her gym bag is gone. Damn woman doesn’t know the meaning of rest. Huffing out a sigh, I grab my own bag and head out the door after her.
As I walk into the gym, I pause in the doorway and watch as she beats relentlessly on a bag. Sweat coats her skin, and it’s obvious she’s been at it for a while. Regardless, she delivers blow after blow like she’s not the slightest bit tired. The way she attacks the bag, she’s like a woman possessed, and I’m pretty sure I know what demons are chasing her. I just wish I knew how to help her.
“Are you here to work out or watch me?” she pants, breathless. I don’t know how the hell she knows I’m here, with her back to me, and all of her concentration on the bag.
“Can’t I do both?”
She huffs out a laugh, dropping her arms and taking a step away from the bag to grab her water bottle. She watches me over the lip as I move to the weights bench and get set up. Seeming satisfied that I’m not here to keep a close eye on her, like I imagine Hawk would do if he knew where she was right now, she gets back to work.
Stepping up to the bag, she rolls her shoulders back and swings her arms. She moves into a wide stance, centering her weight before she starts up another punishing round of punches. I notice she’s favoring her right leg though, and despite the determined look on her face, she’s sweating more than usual.
I continue to watch her as I go through my usual morning routine, and when she shows no signs of letting up, I decide I need to interfere before she hurts herself.
Swiping a towel over my face, I move over to the mats.
“Little Warrior,” I call out, “come spar with me.” She stops and turns to look at me, but doesn’t move or respond as she debates what to do. “Come on, this is probably the only shot I have of beating you.”
She scoffs. “Even with my injuries, you have no chance of beating me.”
She still doesn’t move, and I soften my features, pleading with her. “Just get over here. Trust me, hitting a bag isn’t going to rid you of that anger. You need a human outlet; to hit flesh and bone and feel the damage you inflict beneath your own hands.”
My words break through that hard exterior she’s erected around herself since she got back, and for a second, I see the real Hadley hiding beneath it all. She’s putting on a brave face, acting like everything is okay, but that can only last so long. She has to work through everything she’s feeling and struggling to process. The only thing that worked for me was fighting. I had to find a physical outlet for my anger, or it would have eaten me alive. Every time I felt an opponent's skin break beneath my own, their blood coating my hands, it was like I could breathe again. That insurmountable rage abated, at least for a while, and so long as I pretended every blow I delivered was directed at my father, I could find some sort of inner peace. I couldn’t attack the source of my problems, so I used surrogates.
Hadley and I are alike in that way. I can see the flames of anger in her eyes, and if she’s not careful, all that animosity is going to burn her alive. It’ll consume her, until it becomes all she can think about. Dream of. Live for.
She moves toward me, until she’s standing opposite me on the mat. “You better fight back this time, Hayes.”
I smirk back at her. “Don’t you worry about me, Little Warrior, just focus on not letting me kick your ass.”
She barks out a laugh, and lunges toward me. Going straight in for a jab, she jumps back out of my arm span before I can retaliate.
We go round after round, neither one of us going easy on the other—okay, I definitely hold back a little, but I’m not about to tell Hadley that. Every punch she delivers is precise and well balanced, delivering maximum damage but with the least amount of impact to her hands and wrists. She grits her teeth, and there is a determined set to her jaw. I can feel the fury burning off of her with every hit she lands, and see the flare of triumph every time she one-ups me. I’ve never been up against such an experienced opponent, and damn, if I’m not seriously turned on right now.
I’m blaming it on the fact that all the blood in my body has rushed south as to why I get distracted and give her the in she’s been waiting for. She slips past my defenses, swooping my legs out from beneath me, and before I can comprehend what happened, I’m flat on my back on the mat, and she’s standing over me with a smug smirk on her face, even as she pants heavily.
“What was it you were saying, Hayes? Something about kicking my ass?”
“No need to rub it in,” I grumble, holding out my hand for her to help me up. When she slaps her hand in mine, instead of letting her pull me to my feet, I tug her down on top of me, and roll us over so she’s pinned beneath me.