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She was greeted with a stark room of concrete, white tarps along the far wall and on the floor. On one side, there was a bookcase filled with dishes of every sort. There was a table topped with tons of vases, some small old nightstands, and an umbrella stand beside it that had sledgehammers sticking out.
June laughed nervously. “Where are we?” She had to yell, the headphones muffling everything around her.
“We are going to break some shit. It’s soundproof. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress, and my dad took me here when I was a teenager and felt particularly low. When I can’t make it here, sometimes I’ll scream in my car.” He gave her lopsided grin before sauntering to the bookcase.
She slowly followed, taking another look around. He held a few plates out to her, and she took them while he grabbed another stack. Then they moved to the center of the room. Rhys set the stack beside him threw a bowl against the wall. It shattered, raining down in a way that shouldn’t have been beautiful, but was. He gave her a nod to throw one of her dishes.
June looked down at her plate. She had never really thrown anything before, and throwing dishes was the last thing she would ever do. It felt counterintuitive, breaking a rule in a place where rules were meant to be broken.
But how many rules had she followed, and so diligently? How many times had she put others before her, for the rules?
And for what?
She pulled her arm back and released the dish with all her might. She was hyper-aware of her blood pumping through her veins, the strangled cry she gave as the plate left her grip and flew through the air. It landed with a hard crash, shattering even more than she had hoped. Rhys whooped, and screamed as he threw another.
June followed suit, screaming and throwing from the stack of dishes.
When they were out, Rhys went back to the wall and picked up two nightstands. He set them between where they stood and the far wall, and went back for some vases and a sledgehammer. He set the vases up on the nightstands, one set-up closer to him and the other closer to her. And then he passed her the sledgehammer.
She had never held a sledgehammer before and her arm dropped with the weight. She hadn’t expected it to be so heavy, and when she lifted it, her arm shook. Rhys came up behind her, his big chest pressing against her as his arms showed her how to hold it, how to swing it. She found comfort in his body pressed against hers, knowing she was happy to find comfort in any body if it meant forgetting the one she wanted. She shook the thought, focusing on what an amazing experience this was, and an even more amazing guy.
When he stepped away, June smashed the vase. She screamed and bashed the nightstand until there were just shards of splintered wood on the ground. She stared at the mess she’d made, relief flooding her body. Sweat dripped down her face and onto her shirt. But when she went to wipe it with her forearm, she realized it wasn’t just sweat.
She was crying.
She was releasing it all. Her parents, the store, the responsibility of her aging grandparents. She was even releasing Dragan, or the man she had expected him to be. She’d given him so many chances, and she’d fallen in love with his potential. While she would always love him, always be there for him, it was time to let him go and put herself first.
Rhys place a heavy hand on her shoulder, and pulled her into a hug. She sobbed and gasped into his sweater, and he let her. He didn’t say anything.
He let her be, and that was the best gift of all.
30
“How you doing, D?” Colton asked from the couch, Archer sitting beside him.
“Good, looking forward to this,” Dragan said, closing the apartment door behind him. He caught the look Archer and Colton shared as he made his way to the pull-down bar in Colton’s apartment, filling a tumbler with more whiskey than was probably necessary.
“If you guys have something to say, just say.”
Colton shrugged. “Just worried about you, man.”
“You know you can talk to us, right?”
Dragan frowned and shook his head. “Nothing to say.” He took a healthy drink before sitting in one of the gold velvet armchairs in Colt’s living room.
Archer sighed. “What’s going on with you and June? You haven’t mentioned her in days.”
Dragan’s heart tightened at her name.
“D, if you push everyone away, eventually you’ll have no one left.” Colt’s voice was soft. “Trust me, I know.”
Dragan looked at his friend. If anyone would know, it would be Colton. While his dad never raised his fists, he was real good at raising his voice and saying shit he couldn’t take back. After high school, Colton had wandered around the country playing pro-football. But despite being surrounded by his teammates and any woman he wanted, Colton had been alone. And when his knee blew out, forcing him to retire?
He came home and leaned on them.
Dragan sighed. “I love her, but she saw a side of me no one should ever see.”
“Your dad give that shiner?” Archer asked, but it was more a statement. They’d seen the bruises, from the time Dragan was five and his dad made him roll out of a car during a drug deal gone bad to when he first hit double digits, but before his growth spurt, and he’d claimed he fell down stairs. Before he could take the place as the head of the household.
