Page 36 of Recon Rendezvous

“London,” I say softly. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine. But I saw you were upset earlier. Take that pain—how you felt at the coffee shop—and channel it here. Let that shit go, baby.”

She looks up at me again, her eyes welling up, and I shake my head.

“If those tears are for your ex, fuck him. Any man that's stupid enough to let you go and to not worship at your feet is a fucking shit for brains and he doesn't deserve your time, attention, or tears. Do you hear me?”

She nods, taking another shaky breath.

“Alright, get your fucking helmet on and let's do this.” Holding out my sledgehammer, she taps it to her bat with a grin before we survey the room.

She looks over at me with a wide grin, before yelling, “Are you ready for the ultimate destruction?”

I laugh at her silly tone of voice. “Hell yeah! Let's goooo!”

“Fuck you, motherfucker,” she screams again as her aluminum bat comes down on an old DVD player, sending debris flying in every direction.

“I can't believe I wasted so much time on you. You were never worth it. How was I so stupid?”

Bang! Bang! Bang!Her bat connects with a table and a stack of old cassette tapes.

“You're engaged? Fucking engaged? I was blind but now I see. Pencil dick fucker!”

I haven't raised my hammer in about fifteen minutes. Once London got going, I moved the fuck out of the way. At the first crash of her bat shattering a coffee maker, her floodgates opened up and she let loose. Swing after swing, curse after curse.

From her outburst, I’ve gathered that she hates her ex, whom she was with for years, and who is now engaged after a few months. But she keeps yelling about wasted time, years she can't get back, and running out of time, and I want to untangle it all and lift whatever this burden is off her shoulders. Only snarky remarks, moans, and laughter should fall from her lips.

All of this, the ranting and cursing, would be hilarious if I couldn’t hear the torment in her voice. Smell the sweat and regret all over this room. I’d happily laugh at her enthusiasm, but as her voice broke with each and every shout and yell my heart clenched instead. I thought this would help, you know, break through her walls so to speak, but now I think it’s just breaking her and it’s killing me. With every sob and broken cry, a blaze builds in my gut that scares me. Because at this moment, I know I’d go full on scorched earth to never hear these soundsfrom her beautiful lips again. Fuck, I’d do it just to make her giggle.

Her chest heaves as she searches for more destruction. I help out, gesturing wildly toward a stack of tires, and she screams again as she beats against them. I watch on as she demolishes a few old school televisions, a huge swing at a keyboard sends keys scattering to the cement floor, then she trashes a radio before finally dropping her bat, her hands covering her face as she starts to sob, her body trembling.

Shit.

“London.” My voice is gruff as I wade through the destruction, carefully removing her helmet. And as much as I’m pulling her into my arms, she’s seeking my strength, pressing her body into mine.

“It's okay, let it all out, babycakes. That's all I want you to do, just let it out. Let that shit go,” I murmur into her sweaty hair.

Her arms tighten around me as I run soothing hands up and down her back. “Take your time. I'm here. If you want to talk about it that's fine, if not, I’ll shut up and have them bring in every fucking television, eight track player, toaster or yellow fridge they have. You can destroy everything until your arms fall off. Do you hear me? I'll do whatever you need until you feel better.”

Resting my cheek on the top of her head, I growl, “You want me to go kick his ass? I’ll gas up the jet and we’ll be in Seattle before you know it.”

Her small huff of laughter lets me know that she’s still with me. But her breaths are ragged as she continues to cling to me.

“You’re so strong. Carrying that shit everywhere you go, but you’re home. You’re with family now. We got you. Forget that bullshit and just breathe for me, baby. Slowly. In and out,” I babble, and for several long minutes, I just hold her together as her chest heaves and she struggles for every breath. Feelinghelpless, I continue to rub her back, making soothing sounds and promises, letting her know that I'm here, that I’ll always be here.

As her breathing returns to normal and she finally inhales a deep breath before letting it out slowly, her arms wrapped around me squeeze a little tighter before she looks up at me. As our eyes meet a powerful wave of yearning flows through me, taking me by surprise and I realize I don’t want to let her go.

“Thank you. It may not look like it right now, but I needed this, it was cathartic.” Her whisper is raspy.

“No need to thank me, but...” I murmur, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Oh, god. Don’t. I’m a mess.” She tries to pull away, but I tighten my hold.

“No, you don’t. You’re just as spectacular in this moment as you were yesterday and as you will be tomorrow.” Grinning down at her, I ask, “But, you know what you need?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LONDON

Maybe Alexander Grant isn’t the douche I thought he was… I can’t help but think as the girls all race in with bottles of wine, ice cream, and popcorn. After my mini breakdown earlier today, Xander stepped up in a major way. He didn’t make me feel idiotic or try to brush aside my feelings, instead he stood strong and let me lean on him until I could pull it together and stand on my own.

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