Page 50 of Love Me Knot

“Where, Laurent?” I roar.

“Shit,” he grumbles. “The training room, but I’m not volunteering for a beat-down unless you give me a damned good reason.”

Calm but determined, I say, “Okay. I’ll come kick your ass in the cafeteria.”

I end the call and approach the first person I run into. “How do I get to the cafeteria?”

The timid corporate-type woman points to the stair door and stutters through directions. “Down one floor. You’ll see a sign.”

The door bounces off the wall when I shove through, likely scaring the woman in the hall. On the way down, I run into Bash on the mid-floor landing. This works just fine. I slam him against the wall and snarl. “What is your problem? You won’t talk to your partner after learning what she went through. Doesn’t that lump you in with the rest of the assholes from her past?”

Bash rolls his eyes, making me want to imprint his face on the block wall. “Oh yeah. I forgot you’re so perfect that you don’t understand the shame I might feel because Chelsea felt the need to hide her real self from me for two years. If His Highness would permit me…” Bash reaches into his pocket and produces a folded stack of papers. “I was working out what to say to her in a letter, so I didn’t fuck things up any worse than I already have.”

I look down at the papers in his hand and instantly let the man go. I clear my throat and add, “You should go handle that. Chelsea thinks you’ve written her off. You’ve been added to an already long list of people who walked because she didn’t measure up.”

Bash’s eyes widen. “Aww fuck! Where is she?”

“Still in the conference room.”

My friend races up the stairs, no longer concerned with me. I watch for a second and then continue downstairs to give him time to make amends with his partner.

Twenty minutes later, I’ve eaten Bash’s lunch and found my way to the training room. The trainer’s dog, Piper, keeps me entertained through the big windows. She’s working through an elaborate course of challenges for treats and making good time doing it.

“You!”

I whirl around at the angry yell and see a furious Chelsea barreling toward me. Before I know it, I’m on my back with the wind knocked out of me. I gape like a fish until my lungs work again and splutter, “What did I do?”

With all the rage of a cocaine bear, she screams, “You wanted me to trust you, and you go spilling my shit to Bastien!”

It’s just now that I notice her eyes. She’s been crying. Chelsea is hurting, which means she really had begun to trust me. And in her eyes, you just fucked all that up. “I put my best friend into a block wall just now, and for some reason, he demanded to know why. Since that was fair, I called him out for turning his back on you.”

Chelsea lifts me an inch, slamming me back to the mat. “He didn’t turn_”

I grip Chelsea around the middle and flip us. I’m now hovering above her, my nose touching hers. “Do not defend anyone who makes you feel less than enough,” I practically growl at her. “Bastien fucked up, and he did it because you let him.”

“I… What?!”

“You. Heard. Me. You’ve been shit on your whole life because you let people do it. You’ve more than earned your place at the table. Stand up for yourself. If someone has a problem with you, fuck them. They’re not needed.”

I soften my voice and relax my body. “The people around here have great respect for you. You don’t have to buy it. Accept it and the good people in your life. Hold each other accountable when someone screws up. That’s how friends help each other grow. They don’t shy away and let things fester.”

Chelsea lies motionless with fire in her eyes. A slow clap sounds nearby. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, and I’ve been trying for years.”

We look up to see Austin “Spatch” Madden standing over us. The hard-ass trainer walks away, leaving Chelsea with her mouth hanging open. She shoves me off her and clambers up, appearing more embarrassed than angry.

Chelsea

The sting of humiliation chases me from the room. The skin-tightening sensation is all too familiar, taunting me with lingering wounds and scars that aren’t easily forgotten. Once again, I come face-to-face with vulnerability, cruel and merciless. Will I ever not hate who I was? Still am?

Face hot with shame, I rush through the hallways, avoiding eye contact with anyone I see. She’s a chameleon…I’ve been trying for years… Bastien’s awkward apology.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I stop cold when I spot my boss in the lobby. That’s the last human I need to deal with right now. Turning a complete one-eighty, I head toward the locker room but duck into a maintenance closet when I hear Bastien’s and Birdie’s voices around the corner.

All at once, I’m back at that party, hiding in disgrace after being thrown away by Trace. That night, I hid because I wasn’t good enough. Now, I’m hiding because Jackson tells me I am.

Why does that feel worse? I used to do anything to get people to accept me. Now that people do, I’m running. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I like this? The only person who treats me like shit is me.

Bastien’s sorrowful face crosses my mind, and my heart sinks. I’ve become what I hate. I’m hurting the people I care about.

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