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I fucked up. I shouldn’t have let her barbs hit him. I should have listened, seen her fear, and helped her through it instead of pushing her away. We all messed up, and now she’s gone.
Smashing my fist into the wall again, I feel my knuckles split. The sudden sharp pain blasts through the anger, but only for a moment before it swallows me again. There’s no end in sight, only the red haze and the need to hurt something. Grabbing a bottle of Jack, I see my blood coating the glass bottle. Tossing more back, I swallow and throw the bottle at the wall watching it shatter like my heart.
I knew if I handed it over one more time, it wouldn’t survive being broken again.
I was right. There’s nothing left in me but anger. So much fucking anger.
Pulling my arm back, I smash my fist into the already cracked plaster over and over, watching my blood run down my hand and arm and splatter on the floor.
I would have done anything for her.
Killed for her. Stolen. Lied. Cheated.
I would have done anything just to say she was mine. And I did, over and over, and it still wasn’t enough.
I’m not enough. When will I realise that?
I couldn’t protect Asher.
I couldn’t stop Bray from self-destructing.
I couldn’t keep her.
The door opens, but I ignore them. I hate that they are seeing me like this, but I can’t contain this, even if I tried. I spent so long holding back this rage, and now it’s free all thanks to her. I know I would never hurt my brothers, not physically, but they are raw right now, like me. I could hurt them emotionally, and I don’t want that, but it doesn’t stop me from driving my fist into the plaster again and again until a palm blocks the wall. I swerve at the last moment, stopping my fist mid-air before meeting Asher’s gaze.
“Enough.”
“Move,” I snap, but he doesn’t. “I said fucking move.” I shove him backwards, and he flies to the floor with a grunt but quickly gets to his feet, this time putting his entire body in the way of my self-destruction.
“No, I won’t let you do this. I won’t let you kill yourself like this. Hit me if you need to, but I’m not moving. I’m not going anywhere, neither is Bray. We are right here; we are still a family. We need you. She needs you.”
“Don’t!” I yell.
“Blair needs you,” he states defiantly.
Rage takes over at her traitorous name on his lips, and before I know it, I’ve punched him square in the face. He goes down hard, groaning, and I stumble back. “Ash, I’m sorry!” I exclaim.
He waves it away and sits up, his lip busted.
“Just please don’t say her name,” I say, turning away in disgust at what I did. I grab another bottle and my keys, ready to get out of here so I can’t hurt them. I’m an animal, and I should be alone.
Bray grabs my keys out of my hand and darts out of my reach. “No, you’re not going to drink and drive. We won’t let you kill yourself. Ash is right. We need each other right now. Don’t pull away.”
“I don’t know what else to do!” I scream, yanking on my hair. “I don’t—I’m scared,” I admit, my hands fisted, “of what I might do.”
“We aren’t. We know you, Cyrus. You’re crude, mean, and a fucking asshole.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“But you would never hurt us.” I look at Ash’s lip, but they ignore it. “You would hurt yourself first, so stop this fucking pity party. It helps no one.”
“Fuck you.”
“No, thanks, I’d rather fuck our girl,” Bray teases, but his voice is pained.
“Only she’s not our girl, is she?” I sneer, making him flinch.
“She will be,” Asher interjects, coming to stand at Bray’s side. “She needs us right now, maybe even more than before. We can either wallow and go back to how we were before her, or we can step the fuck up and show her we aren’t leaving her like everyone else. That we aren’t giving up on her, even when she does on us. So stop punching shit and drinking, and let’s fucking come up with a plan to get our girl back.”
Well, fuck.
