Page 45 of Give Me Perfect Love

He wants to be in my life, and while I can’t fully grasp on to that yet, the possibility of having a relationship with him makes me hopeful for my future.

My thoughts also wondered to Bryce and the stupid things he was doing the weeks we were apart. I’m not over them by any means. We have shit to talk about, and we should get to it when he gets home from working out.

I toss the covers off of me, the thick fabric running over the palms of my hands, reminding me of my outburst. I’d never done that before. Taken a bat and beat the crap out of something until it was nothing but shards of glass and piles of splintered wood.

It felt good.

God, it felt like flying, but my hands are cut and bruised.

Oh well, it was worth it. I run my fingers over the dried-up blood. Mills and Bryce just stood there and watched me. I had expected one of them to stop my onslaught, but neither did.

I was grateful.

I needed it.

I needed to break apart the things I couldn’t when I lived there with that horrible man.

I shudder, thinking about the beating I would have received if he was still alive. I’d be black and blue for days.

I stand and head for the shower. After our talk, I’ve got to head to Mugs & Books and see how things have progressed. I also need to see Claire.

I’ve got so much to tell her.

After I shower and shave, I wrap my darker than normal hair up into a towel and rub lotion all over my body. My arms and back are aching from swinging that bat. I stretch my sore muscles and tired ligaments before running down to the laundry room and throwing yesterday’s clothes into the dryer for a refresher.

I have no clothes here. I lean against the dryer as it tumbles, thinking about my situation.

We love each other, that’s clear, but am I ready to move in with him?

Am I ready to give up my freedom, leave my best friend whom I’ve known since the day I stepped off the Greyhound?

The answer should be clear.

I should want to without question, but something is holding me back. It’s not the fear of Cain, Claire’s abusive ex, coming back around. He hasn’t been back in the picture since he snuck into our old apartment.

And I hope it stays that way.

It’s something I can’t quite put my finger on. The timer goes off, and I twist and open the dryer door, letting my towel fall to the floor before sliding on my warm jeans and shirt.

I guess I’ll hold off on moving in with Bryce just for a bit longer. Just until I’m one hundred percent sure.

__________

Bryce

I nod at the girl sitting at the front desk of the gym as I head to the back. Gloves go on, my mind fabricates thoughts that shoot adrenaline through my body, and I take it all out on the bag. Sweat builds like my anger, simmering from the surface and bubbling up.

It’s something I’ll never be able to fight off no matter how much I hit this fucking bag. It lays dormant inside me, waiting for an opportunity to be set free.

I think about everything that’s happened over the last couple of days, and it fuels me like gas on a flame.

I burn up inside, releasing it all on the bag and slowly, the weight sheds, providing me a moment of relief.

__________

The timer goes off, giving fighters permission to switch workouts, and after thirty minutes of hitting, I toss my gloves and wipe the sweat from my brow. My shirt sticks to me, and sweat from my soaked hair drips down the side of my face. Hanging my towel around my neck, I head to the back to grab my things. My eyes look to the cages and the boys practicing for a match when my shoulder gets checked, throwing me back.

“Watch where you’re going, motherfucker.”

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