Fighting to Forgive (Fighting, #2)

Her sharp gasp is the last thing I hear before I storm out of the room.

Charging down the hall and into the training center, I shove past people in my way. The locker room looms in the distance like a safe haven. I throw open the door and march toward the showers. It’s the safest place I can think of to pull myself together because there’s nothing to break.

Even fully clothed, I contemplate dousing my dumb ass with freezing cold water to take the edge off my agitation. What the fuck was that? One minute I’m all smiles and happy thoughts, and the next I’m aggressive as hell. I remember my dad pulling shit like this. Blowing his lid over something like a bad grade or an unmade bed.

The murderous beat of my blood pounds in my head. I lean my forehead against the cold tile and wonder if head butting the shower wall will alleviate some of the tension.

“I get it.”

My eyes swivel in the direction of Jonah’s voice. He’s leaning up against the wall, arms crossed at his chest.

I turn around, slide my back down the wall, and sit.

He has no clue. His dad was Ward freakin’ Cleaver until the day he died. “No. You don’t.” I hold my head in my hands.

“You’re into her.”

I exhale hard and bury my fists in my eye sockets. Into her? Fuck. Yeah.

“I’d lose my shit at the thought of Raven going to Flesh.” I hear Jonah step toward me. “But it’s Layla’s job, man. She’s got a kid to feed. Good news is, she won’t be there alone. We’ll all be there. Make sure no one fucks with her.”

I nod into my hands, my heart rate slowing.

“But B, man, you owe that poor girl an apology. Had to be embarrassing, you nutting up on her like that in front of us.”

“Fuck, I know.” I want to ask him to knock me out. I’d do it myself if I could. “Something’s not right. I’m jumping out of my skin.”

He squats down to my eye level. “Dude, just admit it. You’re falling for a chick.”

“Fuck you.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Suit yourself. She’s hot, sweet as hell. You deny this, you’re missin’ out.”

Not at all enjoying his reference to my woman being hot, I scowl. “You think you’re telling me something I don’t know? I don’t want to be a dick to her. It just keeps happening. I’m fucked up.”

He shrugs and shakes his head. “You’re holding back a monster by keeping in your feelings. That’d make any man go crazy.”

Maybe he’s right. Denying the pull could be what’s making me act like an ass. But allowing myself to feel what I’ve been pushing down deep means… fuck, I have no clue. What I do know is that being a part of Layla and Axelle’s life means responsibility. I won’t let myself give in to the possibility of what might be if I’m not committed to making it happen. And then there’s my past to wrestle with. The anger, the control, my secret. What if they walk away? Could I handle that kind of loss? That’s what I’ve got to figure out.

I look up from my huddled ball of shame. “You know where she is?”

He tosses a quick look over his shoulder. “Last I saw, she was outside with Rex and Caleb.”

“Fuck.” I push up from the ground. “I’ll make it right.”

He claps me on the shoulder as I pass by. “Good. And think about what I said.”

Yeah, yeah.

Walking through the locker room feels like a death march. The thought that Layla’s mad at me is enough to make me sick. But the idea that she may not forgive me is one too painful to consider.

I find her sitting in a chair just outside the locker room door. Rex and Caleb aren’t with her, and she doesn’t look like she’s been crying. Thank God.

She stands and moves toward me, concern etched into her gorgeous face. “Blake, what happened back there?”

I stop a foot away from her, making sure not to reach out and pull her to me until I know we’re okay. “I’m really sorry, Mouse. I have no excuse other than I’m an asshole.”

Her eyebrows drop low over her blinking lashes.

“I have this impulse to keep you and Axelle safe.” I run my hand over my head, hoping she doesn’t think I’m as pathetic as I sound. “I’m not saying it’s okay, I’m just trying to get you to understand.”

She nods over and over. Her eyes are wide and staring at me, or through me. Not a word is coming from her lips. Did I spook her? She’s still nodding.

“Mouse?”

Her eyes focus on me and shine with moisture.

“Ah, fuck. I’m sorry.” I reach for her and pull her in for a hug. My stomach jumps in surprise when her arms go around my waist and hug me tight. I hold her head against my chest and nuzzle her hair. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

As if timing is out to fuck me, Jonah comes strolling out of the locker room. He takes a second to study our position before a smile cuts through his serious expression. I glare at him, but can’t help a small grin from pulling at my lips.

Damn, I hate it when he’s right.

He shakes his head and walks away.

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