Page 100 of Knot All is Forgiven

"It's a rage room. Take her there. She can trash shit, beat up a car with a baseball bat if she wants. You guys are trying to get her to forgive you so hard that she's had to push her anger down. When you ramp up the sweet shit, she probably feels guilty that she doesn't forgive you yet. Let her get the anger out. Then you can grow together." Glinda pushes up from the chair, smoothing the front of her pants. "Now, if this works, I want an extra twenty minutes for my lunch breaks and a bigger Christmas bonus."

She spins on her heel and leaves, braids swishing behind her as she goes. I stare at the phone on my desk, the bright clock telling me that it's only an hour until the reservation.

Shit. Let's see if Glinda's idea works.

Hey Jordy, you busy?

Jordy

Just finished up dinner with Vick, whats up?

I know you've not been too keen on spending time with me

And I don't say that to make you feel bad

Please don't think I'm trying to guilt you

I know you have your reasons

Rafe. Calm down. What's up?

Have you heard of Fight Your Feelings?

Is that a band?

No, it's a rage room. A place where you can destroy things for the hell of it.

I know this whole situation left you feeling out of control and that we've not made things easy on you.

But if you want an outlet, a place to fuck shit up and work through some things, I have a reservation at 8pm.

You don't have to get close to me. You can tell me not to come.

But the offer is there.

Yeah, okay

Sounds good

I'll have Vick drop me off.

I pace in frontof the unassuming-looking black door in the warehouse district, eyes on the parking lot. When Vick's sensible car pulls up, and Jordan climbs out, I think my heart stops beating.

She's wearing wide-legged olive pants, a cropped black T-shirt, and combat boots. The front of her wavy red hair is braided back out of her eyes, but the rest is left down.

She's so beautiful it hurts.

I open the door wide and stand behind it, allowing her to keep space from me if she still is not ready to scent me.

No matter how much it hurts me, she deserves that control.

I've already checked us in, so the bored-looking Beta at the counter immediately hands Jordan goggles and a hard hat and buzzes open the door. After I secure my safety equipment, I follow her into the space.

The room is massive, nearly the size of an aircraft hangar, with tall ceilings and unfinished walls. Half of it is what looks like a suburban home with the front ripped off, like a life-sized doll house. The other half looks like a junkyard with snaking paths throughout.

Crashing noises reach my ears from the house, so I veer off to the left. Up close, I can't help but marvel at the ingenuity of this construction. The stairs appear functional, and each room is filled to the brim with things to ruin. The living area has a couch with cushions that have a few rips in them, two half-shattered windows, a TV on a tacky wooden stand, and a ceiling fan that looks to be hanging on by a thread. If I crane my neck back, I can see a few bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs that look half destroyed by the people who came before us.

But I find Jordan in the kitchen.

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