Page 123 of Taeja

“Don’t apologize.” Zain grabbed the bat and walked toward her. He grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around, pulling her flush against him.

Taeja’s breath hitched. What was he doing?

“You need to hold it like this.” Zain placed the bat in her hand, curling his fingers around hers to tighten her grip around it. “And swing it like this.”

“Like this?” She mimicked his actions, then looked at him. She was surprised that he was already looking at her.

Being this close to him — where she could feel his breathing and smell his expensive cologne despite the mess she made — made her heart beat faster than it should. Her lips parted, and she wetted them with her tongue. Zain’s eyes followed the action before he dragged them to her eyes. Her breath got snatched away again, overpowered by the urge to lean in and kiss him.

Zain broke the moment before she could get on her toes and reach for his lips. He looked away from her to the bat they held. “Yes. You’ll use more force and cause more damage.”

Taeja nodded, unable to concentrate when he was this close. His body felt amazing against hers. He was so tall, so muscular, she felt more than protected in his embrace. Zain consumed her thoughts to the point she forgot she was still crying.

“Good,” Zain said, his voice huskier than before. He took several steps backward until he was by the door. “Continue. Be angry. Let it all out.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice.

She positioned the bat like he showed her and swung on the barrel, denting it with a powerful hit. “I hate thinking about Cassedi every day! I hate wanting to see her! Mi hate feel like this!” She let out a piercing scream as she delivered a powerful blow to the TV, causing the screen to shatter and shards of glass fragments to explode outward. Her breaths came out quick and heavy while her shoulders heaved. As her hand shook violently, the baseball bat slipped through her fingers, crashing to the ground, and rolling away into the mess of debris. “I don’t feel better,” Taeja cried, dropping to the floor, and bringing her knees up to her chest. Loud sobs rocked her body. She couldn’t contain herself even if she tried. She laid her head atop her knees as she forced out, “This isn’t helping, Zain. What should I d-do?”

“Keep crying.”

Sniffling, Taeja raised her head and looked at him. Despite witnessing her outburst, Zain appeared completely at ease, not having moved an inch. “W-what?” she forced out.

“Cry, then pick yourself up,” he said authoritatively. “The world won’t stop for you. Ever. So you decide right here and now if you want it to leave you behind or if you want to continue moving with it.”

She looked away, her eyelids lowering as she focused on the mess before her. “I don’t want to get left behind.”

“Then stop letting your past control you. I know it’s easier said than done, but I’m being real. All those people — they don’t fucking define you. You define yourself. Do you want to be daddy’s helpless little girl forever? Answer me!”

Taeja’s fists balled. Anger surged through her blood, making her want to hit something again. Why was Zain speaking to her this way? So cold, so unfiltered. It hurt her more because she knew he spoke the truth.

“I-I don’t…” she whispered.

“So cry now and pick yourself up later.”

Taeja heard the slam of a door, and she looked up.

Zain left.

She was dumbfounded. What just happened? She didn’t know and wouldn’tuse this moment to figure it out. Because Zain’s words hit her at a place that had been aching for so, so long. As harsh as they were, she needed that. She couldn’t keep wallowing in self-pity.

Sure, she always tried to get some freedom. But yearning for her father’s approval always had her rubber-banding.

If she wanted better, she needed to be better. Not for Teddy. Not for Jerry. And not for Cassedi.

But for herself. Taeja Marley.

So, she cried.

A sad cry. An angry cry. A cry of hope.

Freeing all the tears she built up and never allowed herself to feel past the surface. This cry touched her soul, and she allowed herself to feel every splintering emotion.

Then she picked herself up. Just like Zain demanded. And without looking back at the wrecked room, she straightened her shoulders and walked out of there.

Zain was leaning against a wall with his head down while he made a ball in his hand. Sensing her presence, his head snapped up. His eyes beckoned her over, and she took long strides toward him. “How do you feel?”

“Like I should’ve come here long ago.”

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