Worth The Fight (Hard To Love Book 1) (16 page)

“What the fuck do you mean he left?” I’ve never shouted at Coach, but today I just can’t help it. I don’t know what he expected to happen when he told me that Bryce had gone, there’s no way he could’ve thought I would be okay with it.

“Like I said, he told me that he had his reasons and it was better if he didn’t work here anymore. Did you two have an argument? Were you a fucking dick to him?” I was a dick, but that had been weeks ago and he still stayed. What made him leave now? I need to find him and get him back. I grab the back of the chair that’s in front of me, trying desperately not to throw it across Coach’s office.

“No, I wasn’t a dick, well no more than normal. He seriously didn’t say anything? Doesn’t he have a contract? Can we make him come back?” I start to pace again, my hands working through my hair, grabbing the strands and tugging. I probably look like a mad man but I have more important things to worry about. Did he leave because I told him that I missed him, was I being unfair by admitting it?

“He had a rolling contract. I thought it was safer after what happened with Ethan. You don’t have the best track record when it comes to coaches, Zeke. I can’t afford to be sued.” I walk around the front of the chair and collapse into it. I bury my head in my hands, feeling completely defeated.

“So do you want to tell me what happened between you two? I'm not stupid, Zeke, I know there was something there. Is there anything you need to tell me?” I'm so confused right now, I don’t know what to do. Should I tell Coach about us, that I completely messed up the relationship between Bryce and me, both personal and professional? I'm about to open up and finally lay it all out, risk his ridicule, when I hear Asha’s voice from outside the office door.

“Saved by the fiancée, Zeke.” My head jerks up to meet his face. I never told anyone I was engaged, and I wasn’t planning on doing so any time soon.

“Who told you I was engaged?” My voice has taken on a menacing tone that makes Coach’s eyes widen a little in shock.

“Asha was shouting it to anyone who would listen yesterday. I heard her through the closed door.” If she had been yelling it yesterday then Bryce must have heard her.
Shit. Fuck!
I was going to tell him first and make sure he would only find out from me. Fucking hell, no wonder he left, I tell him I miss him and then a few minutes later he's told I'm engaged. How to fuck with the guy’s head.

I get up from the chair with rage flooding my body. I throw open the door and see Asha talking to a few of the guys, holding her hand out and showing the ring to whoever will look. I storm over to her and grabbing her by the elbow, I pull her towards the locker room. She struggles a little but follows after me, it’s not really I’m really giving her a choice. When the door closes behind us I turn and glare at her. She shrinks a little under my intense stare.

“Did you tell Bryce we were engaged?” She looks confused at my angry tone, and I know I need to calm down. I never told her not to tell anyone and she's excited about it so of course she’s going to tell people, but Bryce is gone and that’s all I can think about right now.

“Um … yeah … maybe. I don’t know, I told a few of the guys yesterday. Why, what’s wrong?” I don’t answer her as I turn and walk towards the steel lockers. I place my hands against them and lower my head, taking deep, calming breaths. I try to swallow my anger but it’s not working and I can feel it tugging at my brain, telling me to lash out. Asha walks up behind me and rubs her hand down my back. The feeling makes my anger double. She's the reason he's gone, she's the reason I won’t ever see him again. I finally give in to the urges inside me and punch the locker in front of me causing Asha to scream. The pain in my knuckles clears my head a little so I do it again, and again. When the punching isn’t doing enough I start to kick them, feeling my feet start to ache as I continue my assault. I know I'm going to damage my hands but I can’t seem to stop, and my anger doesn’t feel like it’s fading. The world has faded away and my focus is on the pounding of my hands.

Several strong hands pull me away from the lockers and drag me across the room until I'm pushed against the wall.

“Fucking stop, man. What the hell has gotten into you? You're scaring Asha.” I slap the hands off me, glaring at Jason as he speaks. I need to get out of here so I can clear my head before I do something I regret. I push off the wall and walk through the crowd that’s gathered around me. I come face to face with Coach, neither of us speak as we stare at each other. Moments tick by and the silence becomes thick. He still doesn’t speak as he moves to the side and lets me past him. As I’m level with him, he reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder, stopping me in his tracks and makes me look at him.

“Don’t do anything stupid, boy. Don’t ruin everything you’ve worked for.” I nod at him, understanding what he's trying to tell me before I walk out the gym door. I have no idea where I'm going, but I know that I can’t be here right now.

****

I slam my front door behind me making the windows vibrate. The anger I felt earlier only intensified once I got to Bryce’s house and saw that his car was missing. I don’t know how long I sat outside his house before I went to the grocery store for a bottle of Bourbon. If I was going to have to wait on him, then I would do it while getting so drunk that I wouldn’t hurt any more. I knew I would be disappointed when he didn’t come home, but that didn’t stop me from waiting there. While I was sitting there, taking large mouthfuls of alcohol, I wondered if this is how Bryce felt the night after my fight, the night I ran from him. I know it must have been, and knowing where I’d been and what I was doing, made me drink even more.

I waited for hours, my bottle of Bourbon finished and thrown into the back of my truck.  I knew I had to leave, but I was struggling to get my feet to move. I knew I couldn’t drive with all the alcohol in my system, but I couldn’t make myself walk away. It felt like I was giving up if I left, I needed to stay in case he came home, that way he would see me waiting and would know I wanted him.

I eventually moved when the sky went dark and I started getting strange looks from Bryce’s neighbors. I didn’t want to spend the night in a cell so I left, walking slowly along the sidewalk towards home. Now I’m here I don’t know what to do, I feel so lost. I don’t know why it’s hit me like this all of a sudden, I haven’t been with Bryce for a few weeks now, so this shouldn’t feel any different. I think it’s because I know he's not out there and won’t be at the gym in the morning, he won’t be around for me to look at. Even though we weren’t together I always knew he was there, that I would see him every day since the gym and my training brought him back to me. I don’t have that safety net of his job to keep him tied to me any more.

I walk through to my room, trying desperately to walk in a straight line. I strip off my t-shirt and throw it across the room. I feel wrong, like my skins too tight and I need to do something to ease the discomfort. I need to shower, maybe if I scrub my body it will make these feelings go away.  This is why I don’t fall for anyone. I keep things simple because when someone leaves me it doesn’t usually hurt like this does. If I'm honest I’ve never felt like this before, the pain is almost too much for me to take. I undo the fly on my jeans as I move across my room, before suddenly changing my mind about a shower. I need to run, I need to work this frustration and pain from my body. I visualize my feet pounding the sidewalk and music filling my head as I let the world around me fade away.

My mind is set and I only have one focus, that is until my eyes find the t-shirt that’s sitting on my bed. The one that Bryce left the last time he was here. I found it the day after my last fight, and never returned it. I just couldn’t hand it back to him, it would’ve been like giving back the last part of him that I had. At least this way, I could always keep a part of him with me, even if it’s not the part that I wanted. Tonight it sits on my bed mocking me, reminding me that I’ll never have him again. He's gone and is never coming back. Anger fills my chest, pushing out the pain, and I embrace it, preferring that to the crushing ache. I turn away from the t-shirt, putting my hands on the top of my drawers and letting my head drop. I concentrate on my breathing to let the feelings flow out as I exhale. I open my eyes but the anger’s still there. I'm angry at myself for losing the guy I want, I'm angry at Bryce for leaving me, and I'm even angry at Asha for not being Bryce.

I let my frustration take over, picking up the photo frame from the chest of drawers and throwing it against the wall. The feeling of satisfaction as it smashes is welcomed and it’s the catalyst for what happens next. I grab anything that’s close to hand and throw it, knock it over, basically destroying everything in my frustration. I stand in the middle of the room with my chest rising and falling quickly as I take in the mess around me. I'm not out of breath, but I can feel myself breaking. Now that my anger’s spent, all that’s left is the ripping feeling in my chest. It feels like I can’t catch my breath, that I can’t fill my lungs enough to survive. My heart is pounding against my rib cage and I don’t know how that’s possible, because I know that it’s not there. My heart is wherever Bryce is, he has it and I pray to god he never gives it back. I let out a strangled sob, walking backwards until my back hits a wall. I let my legs give out and I crumble to the floor. I drop my head and for the first time ever, I let the pain come out in tears. My heartache streams down my cheeks for the world to see.

I don’t know how long I sit there crying, it could be minutes, hours or even days, but I startle when arms wrap around me.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Oh my god, what happened?” I look up into Asha’s worried eyes. I didn’t hear her arrive but as she holds me I'm glad she's here. Maybe she can tell me what to do and how to make this pain stop.

“He left me.” I don’t have to say anything else, I have a feeling she knows who and what I'm talking about. She pulls me close to her and strokes my hair gently, the tenderness makes the words flow. I know that if I was sober I would never talk to anyone like this, but, with the alcoholic courage, I say the words I’ve needed to say for a while. “He was everything and he left. I can’t believe he’s gone. What am I meant to do without him?” Tears are still falling as I lean against her chest. Her arms around me give me comfort and I suddenly feel tired. All the emotion has drained my energy from me, and all I want to do is sleep. As I let the darkness take me, trying to outrun my misery, the last thought I have is of Bryce. He has that smile he would get when he looked across the room at me. A smile that I will never see again.

****

Holy fuck. What train hit me?
I turn in bed and I regret it instantly when my stomach rolls and vomit fills my throat. I throw the bed sheets off me and run towards the bathroom, barely making it before I lose the contents of my stomach. When I'm finally finished I lie on the floor, enjoying the feel of the cool tiles against my overheated body. I close my eyes and try to concentrate on my breathing. I think if I manage to just keep breathing all day, it will be an achievement. I contemplate lying here all day but know that the pounding in my head is going to make me move. I need to get medication for it but even the thought of putting something, even water, in my stomach has it churning again.

I hear soft footsteps walking up beside me before a cool cloth is placed over my head. I sigh in appreciation of the angel that’s helping me.

“Are we feeling a little rough?” Asha’s voice has a tinge of humor to it and I wonder what I look like and what the fuck I did last night. I remember being at Bryce’s house, waiting for him to come home. I pray that I didn’t attempt to drive.

“What happened?” My voice is rough, making me sound like I’ve been asleep a week … or have the worst hangover of my life.

“That I would love to know, but I think only you can answer that.” I would wonder what she meant by that, but thinking is making my head throb.

I feel her grab my hand and I groan as she pulls, trying to get me to sit up.

“Let’s get you off the cold floor. I've put a bottle of water and some Tylenol next to your bed for you.” It takes me longer than it should to get to my feet, and every movement makes me want to die.

“You know, I didn’t realize you had such an evil side to you.” My words are met with laughter but she never stops her insistent pulling until I walk into my room. As soon as I’m through the door I come to a complete stop and look around. My room is complete chaos, there isn’t a flat surface that has anything left on it. The objects that should be there are scattered around the room, most are smashed or damaged beyond repair. There are also cracks in some of the furniture and several holes in the wall.

“What the fuck happened in here?” I'm hoping Asha will tell me I came home to find a frat party that got out of hand, because if it wasn’t that then I don’t think I want to know the real reason.

“That’s another thing you will have to try and remember. I came in to find the place like this.” I look around in shock at the mess. I don’t remember anything no matter how much I try.

“Where was I when you got here?” A strange look crosses her face before she smiles, but the smile is too big, too bright. She starts picking up things from the floor and I'm sure it’s so she doesn’t have to look at me.
What did I do last night?
I'm going to have to try really hard to figure out what happened by myself, because by the look on Asha’s face there’s something she's not telling me.