Page 133 of A Love Like Venom

Time has not healed those wounds yet. And I know Oak is afraid that time never will.

How long must one man fight when he was told the war is over?

"He's right, hun," Rosa agrees with me before adding, "Even if you tried, he wouldn't listen to you. Snake is the only one that can get through to him." She nods her head towards me with a sad smile. Even if Sticks doesn't know about Oak's condition Rosa does. She's never voiced it but she's aware of it. Like me she does all that she can to help him in the best way we know how.

Alice then stirs in my arms, her movements in her sleep starting to become restless. If I stay here talking any longer, she'll begin to wake up.

Taking notice of this Slater advises, "Let her sleep in your room. I'll stay by the door, so no one bothers her."

"Thank you." I find myself saying to him twice in less than two minutes. Unlike me but I will always show gratitude when it comes to the safety and care of my angel.

Kissing the top of her head she settles back against me. My heart squeezes from the act. I then carry her down the hall and enter my bedroom. Pulling back the covers I lay her gently on the bed and place the covers over her.

She sighs with content as her head rests comfortably on the pillow and turns on her side.

She appears peaceful. Her eyelashes fanning across her upper cheeks and her mouth parted slightly. Breathing evenly, I watch as her chest rises and falls with a steady rhythm.

As much as I don't want to part with her, I know that I have to.

Oak is in a dark place trying to fight demons on his own. After we swore to each other to never leave the other man behind I have an obligation to help him.

Obligation or not I won't allow the man I see as a brother suffer.

Giving her one last kiss on the forehead I leave my bedroom to find Slater patiently waiting outside of my door.

Nodding at one another he then shuts the door and stands on guard in front of it.

When I come to the gym, I hear the pounding on the punching bag before I even open the doors. Fists viscously smacking against the bag as the chains that hang it make a clinking sound.

If he keeps up the pace, he might just knock the fucking thing down.

It wouldn't be the first time either.

I hear one loud final thud before I enter the gym.

I am not surprised to discover the punching bag laying broken on the floor.

"We really need to invest in tougher chains," I comment with a low whistle.

With his body drenched with sweat and hearing his ragged breaths he's been going at that punching bag probably the whole time.

His eyes an ice blue meet mine, but they are as hard as glaciers.

Grunting in reply he stares back down at the broken bag and then at his busted knuckles.

Whereas I don't feel the pain Oak likes to feel it.

The pain serves as punishment for his team of men that he could not save.

Unfortunately, there will never be enough pain to help ease the guilt that he carries.

"What was it?" It's the same question I ask him every time after something triggers him. Knowing his triggers allows me to make sure that they won't happen again. At least not around him.

He scratches his head. "It was nothing."

"Really? I think the bag says otherwise."

Huffing with frustration his eyes meet mine again except this time with shame. There is nothing for him to be ashamed of. Triggers can come at unexpected times and that is not his fault.

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