Page 53 of Ruined Wolfsbane

“No!” I gasp out to the empty room. I won’t let Ava get hurt. I can still fix this. I just need some time to think. Feeling a scream building in my throat, I know I need to get out of here. I refuse to have a breakdown in Malachi’s bed.

Frantically thinking of somewhere else to go, I remember the gym in the basement. Perfect. Running until everything hurts and each breath is a jagged knife into my lungs always helps me calm down.

Hopping up, I haphazardly yank on my uniform. I don’t have any workout clothes, other than the running shoes in my bag. This will have to do. Once my tennis shoes are laced up, I rush out of Malachi’s bedroom. I need to leave before any of them come back.

I hurry down the stairs and almost bump into Archie at the bottom. As I skid to a stop, I ask, “Do you know where the gym is?”

“I do, indeed, Miss Briar. Follow me.” Archie strides toward the staircase leading to the basement. He doesn’t ask about my wild eyes or why I was practically sprinting away from the Wyldhart brothers’ bedrooms. I’m thankful for his discretion.

It doesn’t take long before we reach their home gym. “Thanks, Archie,” I tell him before heading inside.

“You are most welcome, Miss Briar. Please don’t hesitate to find me if you need anything else.”

I nod to show him I heard him, but my attention is fixed on their home gym. I scoff. Home gym my ass. Their gym is better equipped than some professional gyms. They have every workout machine imaginable. And they have two rows of treadmills, multiple weight racks, and a sparring ring.

I zero in on the treadmills and head to one on the far side. It’s next to a wall of mirrors. Stripping off my uniform shirt and tank top, I fold them up and place them on a bench. I don’t want to get my shirts sweaty and gross because they’re all I have to wear today.

Shoving my earbuds in, I hop on the treadmill and set it as fast as I can go. “That’s What You Get” blares in my ears. I smile sardonically at how fitting the song is. It doesn’t take long for me to get lost in the rhythmic pounding of my feet.

I don’t know how long I’ve been running when strong arms band around my middle and yank me off the machine. Malachi crushes my back to his front with his large arms wrapped around my middle. I’m barely able to yank out my earbuds with his arms around me. I glare at him for interrupting my run.

Before I can lay into him, he growls, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Running. What does it look like?” I snark back.

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy. Look at what you did!” Malachi barks at me. Confused, I look at where he’s pointing in the mirror in front of us. Running must have torn my stitches. At some point while I ran, blood gushed down my side and soaked into my uniform skirt. There’s still a little red sluggishly oozing from the open wound.

Whoops.

Looking up at Malachi, I shrug. “It happens sometimes.” This isn’t the first time I’ve torn stitches while trying to outrun my panic, and it probably won’t be the last. Running’s my go-to stress-relieving activity.

Malachi’s face turns thunderous at my response. “It happens sometimes,” he repeats slowly. I nod hesitantly. He pinches his eyes shut and tries to gather himself before looking back down at me. “Why the hell would you think running right now is a good idea? Are you allergic to making smart decisions?”

I flinch at his question that’s eerily similar to my own inner voice. His eyes flash with regret, but the damage is already done. Apparently, I am incapable of smart choices. Why does he think I’m down here punishing myself?

“Because I need the pain!” I shout at him, unable to keep the wobble out of my voice.

When everything gets too much, physical pain helps. It’s so much better to hurt physically than emotionally. Physical pain heals. Emotional pain doesn’t.

Closing my eyes, I try to stuff all my emotions down before I do something embarrassing like cry in front of him.

I’m stronger than this, goddammit.

When I’m confident my voice will stay steady, I tell him, “Why do you think I’m running? I need to get my head on straight and stop making idiotic choices.”

“What are these bad decisions you’re trying to outrun?” Malachi asks, his voice gentling after my outburst. His eyes are filled with understanding.

I purse my lips and look away. He probably wouldn’t like hearing that everything yesterday was an ill-advised mistake. It would be great if my stupid heart agreed with my mind. It’s screaming at me that nothing’s ever felt as right as Malachi, Bastian, and Xander holding me last night.

Malachi lets go of me and gently turns me to face him. He winds one arm around my back. With his other hand, he tips my chin up so I’m looking at him. “I won’t force you to tell me, baby girl. But come to me next time you need pain, okay?”

“What?” I ask, shocked by his demand. “No way.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Malachi fists one hand in my hair and grabs my hip with the other. “Why are you always so fucking stubborn?” he growls before crashing his lips onto mine.

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