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This.
This is why.
Her face. Her reaction. What she now thinks of me. I was delaying the inevitable. Delaying this pain, this hurt.
I watch as she casts her eyes around the entrance hall. I can feel the presence of some spectators, but there would be nothing that could make me tear my eyes away from Ava, as if I need to prolong this unbearable ache in my gut by seeing her desolation.
“What a fuck-up you really are.”
My shoulders tense as Mike’s snide words crawl across my back and settle under my skin.
“You’re no longer a member, motherfucker,” John growls. “I’ll be escorting you from the grounds.”
Mike laughs, and I close my eyes, praying for some restraint. My fear is turning into anger. He’s just one person in a long list of people who don’t want me to have my peace. “Be my guest,” he sneers. “Looks like your tart has seen the light, Ward.”
Tart.My blood turns hot.Tart.
“Shut the fuck up.” I hear John’s warning, though it’s muffled by the whoosh of blood rising fast to my head. My hands are shaking. A red mist creeps in, distorting my vision. But I still see Ava’s eyes widen and her lips move, though what she says I don’t know. It’s too quiet. Just a breath of air.
Though Mike’s next words I hear perfectly. “He takes what he wants and leaves a trail of shit behind him.”
I lock down every muscle I have.
“He fucks them all and fucks them off.”
Ava’s welling eyes find me. “Why?”
She is my priority. I need to keep my focus on what matters, and nothing matters more than her. “Don’t listen to him, Ava.”
“Ask him how my wife is,” Mike goes on, taunting me, pushing my limits. “He did the same to her as he did to all the others. Husbands and conscience don’t get in his way.”
Something inside of me gives, snaps, and all focus disappears. I swing around and yank him from John’s hands, smashing him onto the floor and letting my fists loose, punching him repeatedly, roaring through it, all of my anger being injected into my strikes, my control gone.
I feel none of my stress leave me. If anything, it builds, increasing my rage.
“Jesse!” John’s on my back, trying to yank me away, Drew helping him. “For fuck’s sake!” I raise my arms for a second, knocking them all back with one roll of my shoulders and a roar.
My hands are covered in blood, my vision still blurry. Mike isn’t struggling anymore. Not making a sound. I rein in my fists and heave above him, trying to gain some sight.
“Come here, you fucking psycho,” John growls, seizing me and dragging me off Mike’s limp body. He pushes me aside, and I flop back against the wall. “You’ll fucking kill him,” he yells, going to one knee next to Mike to assess the damage I’ve done. Mike starts coughing, rolling onto his side and groaning.
I blink. Look down at my bloody fists, flexing them. They don’t hurt. There’s another more biting pain superseding it. My heart.
“Ava.” I push my back from the wall and search her out, scanning the lobby. The pain inside intensifies. She’s gone. I run to the door and down the steps, taking my search outside. Nothing.
“Jesse,” Sarah says, resting a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, shrugging her off. “Come on, let’s clean you up.”
“No.” I pace to my car, hearing her running across the gravel to keep up with me.
“You can’t drive like this,” she argues, sounding worried.
I yank the handle on the door of my car, nearly ripping it off. “My keys,” I say, feeling at my pockets. No keys. No phone. I head back inside, my head clouded, my mission clear. Don’t let her end this. Fix this. Prove to her what needs to be proven.
“John!” Sarah yells as she flanks me, calling for reinforcements. “John, tell him, please. He can’t drive in this state.”
“I’m fine,” I grate as I pass John, who’s managed to get Mike on the bottom step of the staircase. Coral’s husband looks up at me and recoils, scrambling up a few steps. He thinks I’m coming back for another round. If I didn’t have more important things to do, I would. “I never want to see your face around here again,” I say as I pass.
“John,” Sarah pleads. “Stop him.”
