Page 12 of Blast from the Past

I am so pissed off I can barely see straight. How could she do that? She left us, left me, so she could run off and go through the hardest time of her life alone. What the fuck is that? Did we not show her how much we cared?

I know I can’t drive my truck the way I am feeling right now, as I’m liable to end up wrecking my vehicle and myself. Instead, I stomp down the street to my own house where I can at least take my frustrations out on the punching bag in my garage.

Zeus, my rescue pit bull, comes bounding at me from the backyard, simply happy to see me again even though I have only been gone a few hours. I steady my stance as he jumps up and lays his slobbering, wet kisses all over my jaw. I feel myself release some of the tension I have been holding and my anger starts to fade.

Sitting on the porch step I stare at the changing colors of the night sky as the sun rises. Zeus takes a seat beside me and silence envelops us. I think through my conversation with Mercy and instead of feeling angry, I feel the emotion my anger was masking—fear.

Even with her standing right in front of me, all I could feel was fear. The fact that we—no,I—could have lost her forever and not have even known is enough to paralyze me. She needs to know the truth. She needs to know that no matter what, I will always be there for her, supporting her and holding her hand.

She also needs to know about Charlotte and the baby. She deserves to know.

But I also know I fucked up. There is a crazy man sending her shit and I swore to stay with her until we figured out who. Now I’ve left her alone and anything could happen.

I can’t just walk back into her house and try to makewhat I did tonight better with words. I took an already fucked-up situation and made it worse. I took her pain and made it all about me and I feel like a complete douchebag.

“I don’t know how I am going to fix this, buddy,” I say to Zeus. “But I have to give it a shot.”

Zeus stares at me with confusion, and I smile. At least he isn’t pissed at me. Standing, I make my way into the house and change into some workout gear before heading to the detached garage off to the side of my house. I need to work off some of this extra energy before I can even try to think of a plan.

Taping my fists, I breathe deeply before letting my arm extend, my fist hitting the bag that hangs from one of the support beams. With each hit I land, I feel more of the anger and fear start to ebb away. The sound of my punches is loud in the small space. But they are also a balm to my soul.

By the time I finish an hour later, I am drenched in sweat, but I have a plan.

****

Mercy West

I cried myself to sleep after Shane left and I haven’t done that in a very long time. The coffee I made stands on the table in the kitchen, cold and untouched.

Lying in bed I wish I could go back to sleep, but just because my heart is broken doesn’t mean that life stops. The world is still turning, the sun still rises in the East, and I need to get my ass up. I lay there for five more minutes, feeling sorry for myself, before I finally drag myself out of bed.

I’m in the kitchen making a new pot of coffee when I realize I’m not alone.

A shriek tears from my lungs before I slap a hand over my mouth. Shane is sitting at the little table in the breakfast nook,his gaze fixed intently on me.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says softly.

“Mission not accomplished, asshole.”

“You didn’t lock the door after I left.”

“Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes.

He chuckles and I glare, all while trying to get my heart rate back to something resembling normal.

“We need to talk,” Shane says with a serious expression.

“I think you said all you needed to last night.” I turn my back on him and go back to fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Mercy,” he says with a sigh.

“Shane.” I glare at him but he only smirks.

“I’m a dickhead,” he says by way of an apology. “I made this morning all about me and it wasn’t.”

“Fine,” I huff. “I suppose you’re forgiven. But I don’t have time to chitchat with you. I need to get to work.”

“I already called Wesley. He says you need to stay put.”

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