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I head to my office and close the door. The last thing I want is to talk to anyone. It hasn’t been five minutes when there’s a knock on my door.
Ugh. It wouldn’t be professional to scream “go the fuck away” like I want to, so instead, I tell them to come in.
“Hi, Britt.”
The tall man enters the office, leaving the door partway open as he crosses the room. His brows are pulled low and his eyes reflect concern.
Exactly what I don’t need. Pity, worry, questions I can’t answer…
“Jack, what can I do for you?” I say, my voice tight and my posture rigid. I just don’t want to do this right now.
“Are you…? I mean, Britt, you’re not yourself lately. You don’t smile anymore—”
“I appreciate your concern, Jack, but I’m fine. Too many long hours is all.”
Jack closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. I notice his fists balled up at his sides. When he fixes his gaze back on me, I already know what’s coming. Jack’s eyes are shining with hatred.
“Did that fucker hurt you, Britt? Huh? Because I swear to god, if he did—”
This place is worse than a damn soap opera with all the gossip and butting into everyone’s business.
“Stop, Jack. I’m fine, and it’s none of your concern. Now,” I sit behind my desk and pull out my laptop. “Unless you need me for anything medically related, I need to get to work.”
I look down at my computer, but can see Jack warring with himself out of the corner of my eye.
Please just go, Jack. Don’t do this.
“You might not want to hear it, but I need to say my piece, Britt. Then I’ll go.” My fingers freeze on the keyboard, but I don’t look up at the man as he speaks. “Ever since that, that… creepy motherfucker showed up here, you’ve changed. You don’t smile anymore, you’ve lost the spark in your eyes. I’ve watched you shrivel up into a husk of who you were.” Jack comes closer, splaying his big hands on my desk to lean over. “He’s not worth it, Britt. Something’s… not right about him. Don’t let that asshole ruin you. You’re better than him.”
Jack waits another second before turning and leaving my office, gently closing the door as he goes. I slump over my desk, resting my head in my hands.
“Don’t let that asshole ruin you.”
Jack’s words run through my head. They’re so similar to what Keller said back in the hotel room in Vegas.
“Things I want to do to you. I can’t… I refuse to ruin you.”
A single hot tear trickles down my cheek. What neither of the men know, what no one knows, is that I’m already ruined. Ruined by a madman’s bullet tearing through my skull. Ruined by a brain that refuses to keep the memories buried, showing them to me one by one, haunting me twenty-four hours a day. Ruined by the pressure from my mother to be someone I’m not. Ruined by my inability to feel safe, to stop the panic attacks, to not lose myself to fear whenever I’m alone.
I bark out a sad laugh. Ruined.
Too late. I was ruined long before Keller Bishop came into my life. The only thing he did was show me I could live a different way. Without fear, without being numb, without succumbing to the tidal waves of anxiety. Keller dangled a future in front of me, a future I badly want, only to shatter it into dust.
No, I was always ruined. What I am now, is drained of all hope, and that might actually be worse.
Killer
Fight night. Finally. The need to get into the cage and unleash the monster has grown since the visit from my dad last week. Plus, I swear I saw Max driving past the gym a few times like the creepy pervert he is. The monster is desperate to get free, scraping and clawing at my insides as the anger and violence churn and swirl, growing like a dark cloud, seeping out of every pore in my body.
Killer is back, and ready to do what he does best. Cause pain.
Except for a few sad glances in my direction, Britt hasn’t spoken to me at all outside of professional interactions. I’m not sure why it bothers me so much that she hasn’t tried harder to find out why I simply cut her off, but it does. Then I shrug off the idea, knowing it doesn’t matter. I can’t be who she wants me to be, not if I want to maintain my sanity.
Jerry, the guy who replaced Max on my team, finishes wrapping my hands. I’m so fucking glad that pervy douchebag is gone. Spotting him sitting in his car in the gym parking lot, driving off before I approached, had me furious. It makes me want to find out where he lives and beat him to death.
“There you go, big guy,” Jerry says with a pat on my shoulder, snapping me out of my fantasy.
“Time to go.” The AFL employee leads us to the ring, through the sold-out crowd at Phillip’s Arena in downtown Atlanta.
