Path To Resolution (Fighter's Den, #5)

Chapter 15 - Wolfe

My phone vibrates beside me on the couch and I look away from the TV, picking it up. I click on the text notification to open it and my lips immediately thin in irritation.

D: New runagate using an alias. Need all the original info by the end of the week.

Me: Ok.

I toss my phone away and go back to scowling at the television. Sometimes this shit gets messy and is more than I bargained for but I also have no choice. These guys may be using my skills but I need their databases so it's a win-win. I knew that getting into this.

Melanie has been living with me for a week now and so far I've been able to keep my job under wraps. I'm not sure how long I can keep it that way because she's too smart for her own good but I hope she doesn't find out. At least not until I walk away from this for good and I'm hoping that's sooner than later. I didn't realize how good I was with computer software until this job and how I just can't fucking crack it because I've never had this much trouble before. This might be the first time I ever felt challenged, especially to this degree. It's been months and still nothing but at least I'm getting closer, however slow the process is.

My phone vibrates again and I swear I almost fucking smash the thing but stop short seeing Melanie's name.

Melanie: Finished with dinner. Making a coffee run. Want?

Me: Sure. Whatever you're having.

She went out with her coworkers and invited me to tag along but I haven't been up for company these days. This week has been overwhelming to say the least. I can't believe how fucking different I feel talking and I don't mean that in a good way. Honestly, it's fucking me up. Every time I leave the house I feel like I'm being watched, like people know I talk now but am still too pussy stop being the mute, which is stupid and obviously not true. It's especially worse when I'm at Fighter's Den training and wondering if I should try talking to the guys. Every time I'm there I want to do it but I can't. Just can't. It pisses me off because is it really supposed to be this fucking hard? Am I supposed to have this much fucking doubt?

I've always envied the way people just...speak to one another. Striking up conversation at the cash register, ordering food at a restaurant, laughing out loud in the middle of the streets. It's such a small privilege that these people take for granted, that too often I've found myself wishing I was able to do. I'm finally getting there now and yet I feel so torn, like I need to slow down and speed up all at once. All of this confusion has managed to make me resent my ability to speak. I always envisioned that if I ever spoke one day, it would just fix everything. I built the idea of talking up in my head and the reality is so much harder, and doesn't at all live up to what I thought it would be, that I've started to resent my voice altogether.

"Damn it," I sigh and turn the TV off. I've tried watching three different movies already but I can't focus. I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore.

I feel like I'm failing myself, knowing I can talk to others but not actually doing it. Even if it's just Melanie I can talk to that's still one person more than I thought I was capable of speaking with. Clearly I have it in me so why the hell am I so scared? So stumped? I was five when Kane threatened me and held a knife to my throat. I was a fucking child. Now? From what I remember, if I ever came across him I'd easily overpower him both in height and in muscle. I could destroy that miserable piece of shit without working a sweat. I don't have to fear for my life or any of that shit he warned me about. So then why can't I just fucking talk? How can I expect a fucking future for myself if I hide in the silence?