Page 58 of Rage

She pauses at the door, not looking back.“Clean yourselves up.We have work to do.”

The door slams behind her, the sound echoing through the suddenly too quiet basement.I meet Liam’s gaze, seeing my own regret mirrored there.

“Fuck,” I mutter, wiping blood from my chin.

Liam nods, wincing as he prods a rapidly swelling eye.“You heard the lady.Let’s get our shit together.”

* * *

MEADOW

I storm out of the basement, fury pulsing through my veins.The cool air outside does little to calm the fire raging inside me.My fists clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms.

Idiots.Both of them.

I kick a trash can, sending it clattering across the pavement.The metallic clang echoes in the empty lot.Not enough.I want to scream, to break something.To make them understand.

“Meadow?”

Elle’s voice, soft and uncertain.I whirl around, chest heaving.

“What?”I snap, immediately regretting my tone.It’s not her fault.

Elle flinches but stands her ground.“You okay?”

A laugh bubbles up, harsh and bitter.“Okay?My father and my…” I falter, unsure how to label Mason.“They’re down there beating each other senseless while Peterson’s out there plotting God knows what.”

Elle steps closer, her hand on my arm.“I know.It’s fucked up.”

An understatement if I’ve ever heard one.I take a shaky breath, trying to rein in my anger.“I just… I don’t understand.How can they be so…”

“Stupid?”Elle offers with a wry smile.

I nod, grateful she gets it.“Exactly.”

We stand in silence for a moment, the muffled sounds of the clubhouse drifting out to us.My mind races, replaying the scene in the basement.Mason’s bloody knuckles.Dad’s swollen eye.The primal fury in both their gazes.

“You know,” Elle says slowly, “in a weird way, it’s kind of a good sign.”

I blink, thrown off guard.“How the hell is them trying to kill each other a good sign?”

Elle shrugs.“Mason stood up to your dad.Held his own, too.That’s not nothing in this world.”

I open my mouth to argue, then pause.She has a point.Not that I’m ready to admit it.

“Still doesn’t make it right,” I mutter.

“No,” Elle agrees.“But it means Mason’s serious about you.Serious enough to face down Liam fucking Beckham.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.The anger drains away, leaving a confusing mix of emotions in its wake.Pride.Fear.Something deeper I’m not ready to name.

The clubhouse door creaks open.Heavy footsteps approach.I tense, not ready to face either of them yet.

“Meadow.”Mason’s voice, low and rough.

I turn slowly, bracing myself.He stands a few feet away, battered but unbroken.Blood trickles from a split lip.A bruise blooms on his jaw.His knuckles are raw and swollen.

Our eyes lock.The intensity in his gaze steals my breath.

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