I almost broke. It was too close.

Fuck that.

I couldn’t get out of that apartment fast enough.

My shirt is now sweat-soaked, so I tear it off and throw it in the corner. The basement is still dark except for the red light in the corner. I’m sure she’s back in her place by now, but I’m not ready to go upstairs yet. There’s still a raging hard-on in my pants, and it’s uncomfortable as fuck.

What would have happened if I took her to my bedroom instead of the couch? Would I have caved? Finally given in. Finally taken back my life and sent a big fuck-you to the assholes who messed me up so bad as a kid that I can’t get off as an adult.

I would have fallen to fucking pieces right in front of her afterward. No thank you.

I’m stronger than these urges. Just to prove it, I slam my fist into the punching bag over and over. Punching out the reminder that I’m a sick fuck.

It must be nice to be like Murph or Logan. They have no shame, not like me. I can only assume getting into bed with their girls wasn’t such a mind fuck. And the only person who ever knew my secrets is dead now, and I buried it with Theo, but I still have to deal with this shit every day.

He was the one who told me to start fighting. That I had so much pent up aggression, and I always seemed to be expressing it poorly so we went to Vic’s together.

Now Theo’s gone, but my issues haven’t gone anywhere.

Lucky fucking me.

There’s a scuff against the floor, and I spin, ready to throw a punch when I see Shelby creeping through the darkness, watching me with wide eyes. She puts her hands up as her gaze travels across my bare chest and the pitched tent in my pants. Turning my body, I hide it with my back to her.

“Go home,” I bark, but this time she doesn’t listen.

“Will you just talk to me for a minute?” she whispers through the darkness.

“I’m not a big talker,” I grunt, taking another shot at the bag.

She’s closer now, and I clench my jaw as she casts a shadow from the red light behind her. I wish she’d just go home. Her presence is only making things worse.

“Is that how you always are with women? Just do that...and leave?” she asks.

“Never heard a complaint before.”

“Rafe,” she says, and I send her a glance before turning away and sticking to my one-two cadence. She doesn’t want to get into this right now. I know she doesn’t, but if she doesn’t stop pushing me, I’m going to fucking explode on her.

Just when I’m about to yell at her again, I feel the warm skin of her hands against my back, and every muscle in my body tenses. Acting on instinct, I spin ready to throw fists, but thankfully, she’s too close, and I gather her body up in my arms instead. She lets out a scream as her back slams against the wall, and I snatch one of her wrists in each of my hands.