Finding Home | Finders Keepers #1✔️

Thirty-Six - Trying To Move

The gym was empty, it was only Luke, Jack, and I inside. Jack had tossed me some gloves, telling me to wear them so I wouldn't hurt him as much as bare fists would. Without questioning him, I do so, letting Luke put the other glove on me while Jack grabbed his own gloves.

"Are you guys going to punch each other?" Luke says softly, enough for Jack not to hear us talking. "Because if you are, I'd be glad to hold him while you take out your frustrations."

I smile at him. Even when I'm uncomfortable with the situation, he knows exactly what to say. "No, it's fine. I know what he's getting us to try to do. Just make sure not to interrupt unless I tell you to."

Because I had pushed to be a member of Notorious, I had to live by the set of rules that we placed by the gang. I have to be in the ring at least two times a week, sparring with those people I have frustrations with. And most of the times, it would be Jack or Nate. This was a solution I found to work for me, except, of course, when everything was taken away.

This was going to be the first time I was going to spar with him ever since my family died. To say that my heart was beating fast was an understatement. It felt like it was going to burst, maybe from nervousness of this situation I never realized I had, or maybe from the anger of it all.

Before I knew it, Jack was already inside the ring and Luke helped me go up, telling me that he'll stand nearby just so he could go to me quickly if ever I needed him.

Automatically, my muscle memory starts working. I'm bouncing at the balls of my feet, my fists rise up in front of my face, and I lunge at him, my arms going around his waist. It was fast, and I took him down in seconds. "Are you trying to get me to hit you?"

He shakes his head. "I'm trying to get you to tell me what's bothering you while trying to get you to hit me."

I stand, taking a distance away from him. We reset. The both of us in the same position this time.

"Fine," I snap all of a sudden, giving him a punch to his face. He blocks it easily. "I'm mad because you decided to start a war with the shadows—" I give him a jab to the stomach, he isn't able to block it, feeling the blow. "—I'm mad because when it was happening, you were somewhere here in this town, and not even—" I kick him to his side, he grunts. He tries to trip me, but I jump at the right time to block it. "—there to correct your mistakes!"

"I tried to, I tried to go there but Nathan saw me," I stop bouncing. He manages to hit my jaw. Hard. I stumble back. Fucking hell. "Don't stop. We're sparring, remember?"

"I know!" I yell out in frustration, lunging after him. He sees it this time, sliding to the right to avoid me. "You should've told him not to make you leave. You should've pushed harder. I know, Nate. He has to be convinced but what did you do? You always—" I kick him at his side, he grunts again in pain. But I don't stop. I'm angry. "—leave—" Kick. He falls back. I sit on him, punching him in the face. "—like a coward!"

I punch him over and over again. The anger rushing through me like oxygen in my bloodstream. The sense in my brain went away, and suddenly, I felt hands on my shoulders, trying to get me to stop. It's Luke—the second I see his ocean blue eyes, I see it.

Jack. On the ground. Pleading me to stop. His cheek has a gash, his lip is split, and his eye is swollen. There was blood spilling from his lips, and it's on the gloves I was wearing too. I pull myself off of him, scared that I did that to him, scared that if I hadn't seen him, I would be continuing it.

Scared that I might kill again.

"Oh my God, oh my God," I can't help but repeat it, like a mantra.

Using my teeth, I pull the straps of the gloves off, throwing them aside. Luke's crouched down, taking Jack's left arm, trying to lift him up. I grab the other arm, and together, we pull him up.

"This was a stupid idea," I hear Luke tell Jack, who's groaning in pain.

Yes, it was.

"You okay, man?"

Jack nods, pressing a pack of ice by his eye while Luke cleans the blood around his lips. "Yeah, thanks for helping me get cleaned up," he glances at me. "It's fine, Rosalie. You know it's the rules. We can't hurt one another outside of the ring but when we're in a consensus that we're sparring, we're free to do whatever. Plus, I deserved it for what I did to you and your brother."

After we had gotten him down, Luke told me to clean up while he went searching for a emergency medicine bag. After I went to the bathroom and took a shower, I got out to find Jack sitting and Luke helping him get clean and bandaging him up.

I shake my head. "I need a breather."

Walking outside, I stand in the middle of an empty parking lot. My hands raking my hair.

All that blood.

It all lead back to that day.

Nathan, by the steps, all bloody with bullets in his chest.

Johnny, bloody and dead because of me, stabbing him over and over again.

"Hey."

I stare right at Luke, the sadness and worry written all over his face. "You okay?"

"How am I going to be okay, Luke?" I ask, shouting. "I almost killed him. Sure, he might have a few bruises and a split lip but that's only what he got because you stopped me. You. Stopped. Me. God, this sounds awful but I wanted to kill him, Luke. He doesn't deserve that even if he did all those terrible things. I'm just so angry all the time, I don't know how I'm going to deal with it. What happens if some poor bastard just somehow brushed up against me by mistake? Am I going to hurt them like what I did to Jack? Or worse?

"I can't, I can't go through this anger again, Luke," I shake my head over and over again. He wraps his hands around my shoulder but I shake them off. "I don't want need anger again. I need to get rid of it. Deal with it on my own."

"What are you saying?"

Time to face the music.

"I'm going to see a therapist," I state. "because I don't want to be the next person I hurt is Chris, or my parents, or my friends, or you. Especially, you, Luke."

"And I'll be okay to help you, Ro," he pulls me to his arms, wrapping them around me. "You just have to tell me what's wrong. I'll help you look for a therapist, I'll even wait for you when you finish your session, but don't shut me out, okay?"

We stand there in silence for—I don't know how long, just holding each other.

This was the best thing to do. To try to get better.