Page 56 of Fractured Fear

“Spencer.”

Waking up on the cold floor used and beaten.

“Spencer. Baby, please.” Someone grabs my shoulders and on instinct I turn with my fists ready.

I won’t go down so easily this time. I’m not fractured by my fear like I was that night. He left me unconscious and bleeding, and I got up stronger than ever.

I swing at the man behind me, but he easily blocks my hit with his arm. I bring my left into action and aim for his gut. He dodges the blow and follows up with a swing of his own. I duck, go to the floor, and attempt to sweep his legs out from under him. He gracefully jumps, avoiding my foot.

We fall into a rhythm. Me swinging and battling through the deep red haze of anger. Anger athim. Anger at myself for not being stronger. My opponent dodges and blocks every one of my hits, only throwing a few himself. I land a few punches, butnot many. I’m lost in a mess of my own making. Too lost to be present and understand what’s right in front of me.

When I go to land another punch, he grabs both of my wrists and pulls me in close. I begin to thrash like a chained wild animal.

“Angel, come back to me. I’m here. You’re safe.”

Angel.Henever called me Angel.

Blinking, I find that it’s nothimin front of me. I’m not in that dreaded house that was my prison. The prison where I was suffocating. Dying day by day and didn’t even realize it.

Instead there’s a set of tender emerald eyes gazing back at me, begging me.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

Zane ignores my concern. “Where did you go, Spencer?”

“Nowhere. I’m fine. I got lost in the moment is all.”

“Spencer, that wasn’t lost in the moment. That was lost in the dark.” Rio says from behind me, concern lacing his every word. His hands land delicately on my hips. Warming the chill that made its way down my spine.

The inside of my cheek gets the brunt of my stubbornness as I gnaw on it to keep the words inside. This truth can never see the light of day. No one can ever know. I can't tell them how I was given everything, showered with expensive gifts, while the monster I lived with thrived. What would they think? Would they still see me the same way?

All I can do is shake my head. If I open my mouth now I’ll give in to the yearning to tell them and let them wipe my slate clean.

Zane studies me, his gaze a little too perceptive, as always. I allow him to see my vulnerability, to see how much my secret would kill me, maybe even kill him and Rio.

“Okay, fine. But this conversation isn’t over.” Zane concedes.

“Let’s get you home, Mama.” Rio brushes his lips tenderly across my cheek.

I turn to Joey who has been watching our whole exchange. He’s too observant like Zane. But again, there’s no judgment.

“Go home, kid. Get some rest. I don’t want to see you here tomorrow, got it? You need rest. In fact, don’t come back for the rest of the week.”

“What? Joey, please. I’m fine.”

“Get a run in if you need to,” he interrupts. “But you need to heal.” He approaches me slowly as if he’s walking up to a predator, which is odd. I may have fought off an attacker, but I’m not close to his level of skill.

He tentatively pulls me away from Rio and Zane. “You need to heal this”—he points to the scrapes and bruises on my face—“and this,” he adds and points to my heart. “It’s time, Spencer. Get your head on straight. The gym can only get you so far. You need to forgive yourself and let go of whatever you’re blaming yourself for.”

“I’m not blam?—”

“I’m old. Not blind.” Joey doesn’t let me get another word in as he gives me his back and strolls away.

Defeated, I allow Rio and Zane to guide me out of the gym. As we pass the front desk where Joey relocated, he calls out, “Don’t let her back here tomorrow, ya hear?”

They both give a slight chin lift at Joey. His look back is one of respect with a hint of fear.

Seriously? They’re not my keepers. My guys don’t get to dictate how I spend my time.

---