Page 47 of Breaking Blaze

“What the hell is wrong with you? I haven’t seen you this pissed at the world since…well, since that night you spewed all that shit about Anna.”

“Don’t fucking talk about Anna. This isn’t about her. This is all about me,” Blaze snarled, making AJ’s other brow arch upward. Now, he just looked straight up ridiculous.

“Hit a nerve, I see,” AJ drawled, not backing down. The man was slightly taller than Blaze’s six foot three, but he wasn’t as broad, made up of thinly honed muscles, like a swimmer rather than a gym monkey. Blaze knew he could take AJ if he wanted, but why that thought even entered his head was troubling. He didn’t want to “take” AJ, the man was only concerned about him.

He should be. My life is shit.

“I slept with Anna last night.” The words left his mouth without his permission, but once they were there in the air, there was no way to recall them. And at the look on AJs face, Blaze knew he’d shocked the man.

“Are you serious? After what you said the other night? What happened to ‘we aren’t like that’ and ‘she isn’t like that with me’ or ‘I don’t see her as a woman’?” Fuck AJ for bringing up that shit, though Blaze couldn’t blame AJ for remembering. Blaze would never forget, either.

“I was lying through my fucking teeth, that’s what. I didn’t mean any of that shit, man. I was just jealous and angry and I took it out on Anna.”

AJ stared at Blaze—hard. His dark brown eyes taking Blaze’s measure, disappointment flipping his mouth into a frown. “So it isn’t like that? You really slept with your best friend?”

Blaze nodded, his head heavier than ever.

“Like…were you both drunk?”

“Nah, man. I was all in, I’d claimed her, told her we were official, that I was tired of acting like I didn’t really want to be with her.” Again, the words came pouring of him, his heart, pierced and shredded, bled out like a crimson flood of pain and poison. “I took her to Teo’s for our first date, wanting to do the couple shit right, ya know. I wanted to show her that I was good enough to be her man even though I had some stains on my soul.”

AJ dropped his hands, sighing.

“We all have stains man. Ain’t a fucker alive who can claim to be stainless. And, yeah, you got a past—who the fuck doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean you have to prove you’re good enough for Anna. Man, that woman loves the hell out of you. And I know you feel something for her, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t be this tore up about whatever the hell happened between you two.”

AJ and his damn insightfulness, the too perceptive ass.

“What did happen, Blaze?” AJ inquired, his tone quietly demanding.

Weary, spent, and too damn broken to fight him, Blaze sat back down and tucked his face into his palms, his body slumping against his desk.

“I had all these hopes, man. I was going to take her out, show her that I could be a man she could be proud of, a man who would treat her like the goddamn goddess she is. But not even three feet into the restaurant my past stabbed me in the chest.”

“What?”

Blaze slammed a fist into his desk. “Some hooked up with whose name I don’t even know was the hostess, and damn if she didn’t try to eye fuck me with Anna standing there. God, it was humiliating. I knew Anna could tell what was going on and I almost dragged her out of there, but she was so fucking sweet about it.”

AJ leaned against the wall near the door, crossing his arms once more. Blaze knew the nonchalant pose was just that, a pose. AJ was deeper and darker than that. Dark green eyes penetrating, AJ asked, “So what happened to fuck you up, man?”

“The fuckening didn’t happen until later, after….” He couldn’t do it, couldn’t bring himself to share the most intimate moment of his life with AJ—with anyone. “That’s not the important part,” he snapped, rage filling his vision with red. Rage against himself and the ghost of a father who was all monster and no man. “The important part was that I was reminded that I am not the man Anna needs. That no matter what I do I will always be a tainted motherfucker—and she can do better than me. I will only hurt her, over and over again. Anna deserves a man who can take her out without running into one of his fuck buddies. She deserves a man who is brave enough to love her without letting phantoms scare the shit out of him—”

“What the hell you talking about, man?” AJ interjected, pushing off the wall to peer down at him from the other side of the desk.

Blaze shook his head violently. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I need to leave her alone, let her find the right man. And no matter how much it tears the heart out of my goddamn chest, I have to let her go.”

AJ was silent, the air around them heavy, thick. When he finally spoke, his voice was eerily flat.

“Did I ever tell you about my old man?”

Tense, his gaze caught on the darkness in AJ’s usually neutral expression, Blaze could only speak, “No.”

His shoulders square, his body rigid, AJ’s gaze seemed to waver—from present…to past.

“Rich. Successful. Awards for man of year in finance. Accolades for giving to charities and heading committees—if my old man could get a slap on the back for it, he was doing it. Excelling at it. Putting on a smile and shaking hands. But that was just the outside. That was just what he wanted people to see. At home, out of the spotlight, he was a piece of shit human being. He never hit us, nah, he never wanted to get his hands dirty. But it doesn’t take a punch to break a person. The man could wield a glare and word like a flaming sword.”

The room began to thrum, waves of silent malice vibrating through the space, from AJ to Blaze. Blaze didn’t dare to move.

“In private, behind gilded doors, my old man let the hate flow. Nothing was ever good enough. Every word from his mouth was an acidic spew of hatred so foul it made the house rank with it. Night after night, no matter what we did to make him happy, no matter how hard we worked, or what we gave up, or what we sacrificed it wasn’t good enough for him. It was worse for Mama and Sallina. He had a special hate-on for them. Have you ever seen what terror does to a woman when she’s so frightened of making the wrong food, saying the wrong word, or even making the wrong expression she’s constantly shaking with it? Ever see a ten-year-old girl shave her head and burn every piece of clothing she owns because she’s been broken down enough she actually believes she’s a whore who’s too filthy to even be called human and not dog?”

---