Page 47 of Tear Me Down
“Please don’t say that…” I swallow right after my voice cracks, trying to compose myself, but as I watch the first tear run down her face, I break.
“It’s true, though. I mean, look at who you’re turning into. One minute you can’t stand to be around someone who’s even remotely upset, and now you’re marrying a murderer? You like to ask Tony about his job, but the moment a call comes through on his radio, you normally shut it out. Any situation that could possibly be perceived as scary or violent, you’d cower, and now I’m just supposed to be okay with my best friend murdering someone who may not have deserved it?”
“May not have deserved it? Ser, he…”
“Yeah, no. I get it,” she snaps at me, looking away from me and to the wall like I disgust her now, like anything we’ve had over the past twenty years is suddenly covered up by one action, one single moment that I seized as if I had no regard for the repercussions. I suppose I didn’t at that moment, I didn’t think of the possibility of being caught, or how it would look to anyone thatwasn’t there, but I didn’t have to. That wasmyvengeance,myredemption, a way to finally escape the crowded thoughts of displeasing someone I loved, only for it to come back and bite me in the ass.
“Serena, please. Just… Just try to understand…” I choke back a sob, feeling my heart literally crumble and break.
“I need…I need to process this. Everything…I just…I need to go.” She swipes her purse from the counter and storms off to the garage, and each step feels like another stab to my chest. I run after her while tears sting my eyes and trail down my face. She can’t possibly be leaving… We haven’t figured this out or talked it through—she hasn’t given me the chance to explain or say I’m sorry. The desperation really sets in, and my stomach does that flip that makes me feel like I’m falling.
“Ser, please! Don’t go…” I try to plead, but she’s already in the car, starting it quickly like she can’t wait to leave. The lights from the ceiling reflect off the tears on her face, and I’ve never felt so low, so wrong, like my world is imploding right in front of me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. She’s leaving, actually leaving, without so much as a goodbye or even a ‘fuck you.’
This feels wrong, twisted, and unreal, like I never actually woke up this morning and this is my inner guilt manifesting into a nightmare. I’d rather her scream, hit me, or throw things at me—anything to get her to stay. How can she just walk away? After everything we’ve been through, how can she run away from me from easily? Have I never shown her how much she means to me? That I would never let anything happen to her? Even from the attack at Cut Me Down, my main concern was her safety—does that not matter?
When the garage door is high enough, she backs out quickly and races to the bottom of the hill, leaving me behind for the first time in our lives. As if the universe knew this was going to happen, the sky darkens and lets out a thunderous roar. The rain quickly follows, slapping against the concrete of the driveway and drowning out the sound of her car completely.
In a complete moment of desperation, I sprint down the driveway—just far enough to see the gate below, and there’s nothing but the steam from the hot pavement and the rain pounding against it. I feel empty—a shell of the person I once was, and while I was starting to think that might be a good thing, those thoughts fall along with the sky.
Just like that, at the snap of a finger, my best friend, one of the very few people I saw as my family, is gone—leaving me shattered and truly broken.
Chapter seventeen
Damien
One Week Later
“That’s it, baby. Give me another one.” I urge Ashia to punch again even though I can see the exhaustion in her face. This past week has been rough for her—filled with restless nights and sadness etched into her features. All of the stress is eating away at her, and now she’s wary of the outlets she can use, afraid that word will get back to Serena and she won’t be given the chance to get her friend back. That thought has kept her quiet, almost terrified to say or do anything that could potentially be viewed as wrong, and that enrages me. My little wolf can do whatever she desires, regardless of if it’s viewed as sinister or saintly, and the opinion of a blonde, close minded, judgmental woman isn’t going to change that.
Serena Anderson has made her way onto a very complicated list in my mind. I want to label her as an enemy, a problem, and someone that I should bar from Ashia’s life from this point forward, but my fiancé’s attachment to her won’t allow me to do that. While she told me about the argument, hearing it from Zeke’s perspective was eye opening, and only served to deepen my dislike for her into resentment.
I understand that while they’re best friends, and would normally consider themselves as sisters, that they both grew upverydifferently. Ashia was thrown to the wolves and left out as bait, but Serena was spoiled, coddled, and sheltered. Evil wasn’t a part of her everyday life, and while she experienced it some because of being associated with Ashia, I’m not sure a single bad thing has ever happened to that woman. She’s always been far too judgmental for my taste, but I’ve tolerated it for Ashia’s sake.
Now that I know exactly what was said during their fight? I have half a mind to remove Serena from the pedestal Ashia holds her so highly on, but Ashia comes first. Always, and she needs me far too much to spend any time confronting Serena. The blonde pain in my ass demanded space, and my little wolf has been gracious enough to give it to her, but I’m not so sure I’ll continue to give the same courtesy.
Personally? It’s been nice not hearing her annoying voice bouncing off the walls of our house, but I know it’s affected Ashia deeply. She hasn’t reached out to her, and it’s killing her. I don’t know how to help. She continues to get sick at least once a day, if not more, and it seems that she’s ready for bed by noon every day. She’s been on edge, too—some of the smallest things have started to anger her, and I know she’s frustrated with everything that’s been going on around us. With this added to it, I’m not sure how much more she can take before she falls to pieces, but I’ll make sure I’m there when she does.
Which is why we’re here now. Every day since I came home last week to find her sitting in our driveway, soaked from head to toe and shivering, Zeke has brought her here after work to train with me. Danielle offered to come in one day soon and train with her, since she knows I would never put up an actual fight against her, but I told her to hold off for now. This ‘training’ isn’t so much for combat, because she’ll never get close enough to a real fight to punch back, but for a way to release her anger. Whether that be towards Serena, this life, or even me, and since she won’t talk about it, she needs some sort of release.
So, I stand strong with my hands spread wide so she can unleash her rage on me. Hit after hit, for the past twenty minutes, she keeps the blows coming. Sweat mists her body, forehead, and hair, but the irritation isn’t going away—even as she starts to sway because she’s so tired. She throws what I decide is her last punch, and I grab her fist in my hand, causing her to fall forward freely with the force of it, and I use that momentum to pull her to me, bringing her to rest against me as I hold her from behind.
“That’s enough for today, baby girl,” I whisper in her hair, and though I know she wants to protest, I can feel her melting against me like she always does.
“I can go a little longer,” she mumbles back between harsh breaths, and I merely shake my head, knowing she’s too tired to argue.
“Let me take you home. I’ll get you a warm bath, and then we can watch a movie. Whatever you want, okay?” I brush the sweaty strands of hair from her forehead.
She nods as she lays her head back against my chest, but we both know she’ll never make it through a movie—maybe not even the bath, but as long as it helps her relax, I don’t care what she needs. I’ll do it. Her abandonment issues have fiercely clawed their way to the surface, and I’ve noticed her clinging to me as much as I do to her. Not that I mind in the slightest—she could be permanently attached to my hip and no one would ever hear me complain, but she’s never been like that. She’s been texting more when we’re apart, letting her anxiety win if it’s been over thirty minutes since she’s heard from me, and while normally she would have no problem going home without me, she hasn’t since that afternoon. Her first stop after work is wherever I am, and she doesn’t leave my side until she has to go back to the shop.
As my phone goes off in my pocket, she stiffens. I’ve made it a point to only go out and handle things during the day while she’s at work, but I know she’s been dreading the next time I’d have to leave her alone. Which, from the look of Carter’s text, is right now.
Carter
Come to the Bat Cave, you’ve got to see this. Do NOT bring Ashia with you.
That last comment pangs my chest, but he wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t important. I slip my phone back into my pocket and wrap my arm around her again.
“Do you have to go?” she asks quietly, but it’s laced with so much sadness that it physically pains me to hear it.
