Break Me

She swallows hard. “How is Missy?” she asks on a whisper.

“When I left, she was pissed off, but physically, she’s fine.” I rub my jaw, feeling the cut from this morning.

I should probably explain to Tatiana that I didn’t hit Missy, but I don’t. In my mind, I beat the shit out of her. The only difference is, instead of it being her in front of me, I let it be the wall so I wouldn’t destroy her. In my mind it was her, a blow for every damn comment she made about Caldwell.

Tatiana looks at me seriously. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to tell you that I haven’t already said before. I lose my cool with her.”

I could whine and bitch that Missy pushes me, but in the end, I need to be accountable. I am the fucked-up son of a fucked-up man, and I can’t help hurting those around me.

I look at the one woman who has been my only real female friend ever. “Mouse, you should go. Have your life with Caldwell. I’m no good for you as a friend or a stranger.” I drop my fork onto my plate, no longer having an appetite.

She reaches out and squeezes my hand. “You don’t scare me. I see the good inside you.”

I laugh sharply. “Tatiana, you see the good in everything. It’s like in the Caldwell cocktail or some shit. Mouse, there’s nothing good inside me. You should go.”

Her dark eyes glass over in unshed tears. “Jason, fight back the darkness.”

“I have, mouse. I have. She pushed and pushed, and I gave the punishment to the wall,” I finally admit. “The thing is, my head was still there. My head was giving it to her.”

“Do you ever stop to think you need a fresh start? You both have too much negativity shared between you, and maybe it’s time to move on.”

“I love her,” I acknowledge, and I do. It’s all fucked up and twisted, but once, there was love, deep, fierce love or something.

“Love isn’t supposed to be painful.”

This comes from the innocence of one who has never had her heart ripped to shreds. “If only I could agree with that . . .”

“Jason, I say this from a good place. You and Missy have a toxic relationship.” I raise an eyebrow at her, but she keeps going. “Once, you saved me from a dangerous place. I’ll never forget the freedom you’ve given me not to have to look over my shoulder. There is good in there. You and Missy, though . . . As my version of saving you, I beg you to let her go. This isn’t healthy, and it’s going to continue to hurt both of you.”

I sigh yet don’t speak. She’s asking me to give up on the one thing I have given my all to other than when I helped fix her situation at home.

Looking at my watch, I give her a quick goodbye, knowing I have an afternoon of work ahead of me.

I know she has my best interests at heart, but I don’t want to just give up on Missy. We live together. This was supposed to be our life, our future, our time. But I know something has to change, too.

After a long day at work, my right-hand man, Brock, meets me at the gym. Before we can start a workout, his phone pings with a text. Location set—pop-up fight. He nods to me, and then we gather a bag of necessities before leaving the gym.

I need this: the release, the adrenaline, the blood pumping through my veins as my body fights for oxygen.

Chapter Two

Henry Ford Hospital emergency room has been extremely busy today. I swear it’s a full moon. It’s six o’clock, five hours after my shift was supposed to end, but there is no way I am getting out of here anytime soon.

All hope for leaving totally dies when a large, tanned man comes in through the ambulance entrance.

“I need some help here!” he yells, carrying the unconscious body of a barely dressed man who has been brutally beaten.

I grab the only spare gurney and rush down the hall toward them. Once he is on the bed, I yell for another nurse.

“He gonna be okay?” the man who brought him in asks.

“We will do everything we can. Have a seat in the waiting room. When we know something, we’ll let you know,” I tell him as we rush his friend to an examining room.

Later, when one of the staff goes out to the waiting room to give an update and try to get the patient’s name, the man who brought him in is long gone.

His injuries are pretty superficial, aside from the concussion. The bruising and cuts on his ribs and face are unbelievable. His hands are cut up, too.