Page 37 of Shattered Hate

“Trayton, don’t—” Kal starts, but I cut him off.

“Yes, Trayton, do!” I shout louder, desperate to force him to spill it all. “Get out whatever’s weighing on you right now. I’m about to call Brayden, and we’re going to nail this down.”

Kal shakes his head as if wishing the ground would swallow him. “I can’t,” he rasps, his breaths coming in ragged, sharp puffs that seem to punctuate every word.

My patience snaps. “No, you know what—I’m not about to risk having my teeth knocked out over this. Get dressed; we’re hitting the gym. And don’t fucking say no. I’m calling Bray, and we’re going to the gym, where you’ll finally tell us what the hell is bothering you. And if words don’t cut it, well, we’re going to punch it out.”

Kal’s eyes lock onto mine, a heavy silence stretching between us. For a moment, I brace for his refusal—it’s Kal, after all. But then, his shoulders slump, and to my surprise, he nods.

My brows shoot up in shock, but I quickly compose myself and give him a sharp nod. Kal never listens, yet here he is, finally agreeing. Maybe we can finally unravel whatever’s been eating at him.

When I call Brayden to share that Kal’s ready to vent his frustrations at the gym, I can almost hear the relief in his voice.

The gym, the boxing bags—they’ve always been our sanctuary.

We learned as kids that fighting each other solved nothing; it only brought more pain.

“You go first,” Brayden whispers. We’re watching as sweat flies off Kal’s forehead with every punch he lands on the bag.

“I brought him here. It’s your turn,” I say, my eyes glued to Kal. I’ve never seen him this intense. Whatever it is, it’s bad. “Maybe she cheated,” I murmur, my eyes widening as I glance at Brayden.

“God,” Brayden mutters, running a hand over his face. “Kal,” he calls out in the gentlest voice I’ve ever heard from him.

“Pussy,” I mumble, earning me an elbow in the ribs from Brayden, making me grunt.

Kal pauses, gripping the bag to stop it from swinging. “It was when I went to that charity event with my dad a couple of years back,” he says, taking deep breaths. “I spent the weekend with a girl and… fuck, she was amazing.” He laughs, shaking his head, his mood turning somber. “She had this attitude, a no-fuck attitude, and her confidence—it was unlike anything I’ve ever seen in a woman.” He turns to face us. “I’m not going into the details, but I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Both Brayden and I sag simultaneously. This is what we needed—to get Kal to open up, even a little. Talking about his feelings is like cracking a code, but this is a huge step.

“Can’t you just message her?”

Kal interrupts, his head shaking, cutting me off. “It’s complicated,” he mutters, a bitter laugh escaping him. “And now she’s moved on.” He forces a tight-lipped smile. “A family and everything.” His eyes flicker with pain. “I know I need to forget about her, but it’s hard.”

“How do you know she’s moved on?” Brayden asks, his brows knitting together in confusion as he stares at Kal.

“Facebook,” I interject, recalling the blonde woman Kal had been looking at earlier. Kal glances at me, then back at Brayden, nodding in confirmation.

“You need to block her,” I state firmly. “Watching her from afar won’t help.” Kal nods again, his gaze dropping to the floor. After a moment, he lifts his eyes first to me, then to Brayden. “It’s just hard… I fell for her, guys.” He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Pussy whipped in one weekend.” Both Brayden and I laugh, but it’s a hollow, sadder laugh. Seeing Kal like this is gut-wrenching.

“Some things happened last year,” Kal continues, glancing quickly at Brayden before staring at the floor again. “I thought it might have been some fucked-up sign. At first, I tried to hold myself back, but then I started believing it was a sign to go see her. So I searched her up on Facebook for the first time, and that’s when I saw her with a man and a kid.” His eyes fixate on a spot on the floor, lost in memories.

Kal, usually the one with all the answers, the straight-and-narrow guy, is anything but that right now. He’s been breaking, drowning right in front of us, and we just let him. We let him brood, thinking it was best. It wasn’t.

Kal’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper, his eyes narrowing. “If you dare tell anyone I said this, I will ruin your fucking life.” He pauses, then adds, almost inaudibly, “But I could really do with a hug from my brothers right now.”

“Shit, I wish I recorded that,” I mutter as Bray and I step forward. Kal’s arms open, and we wrap him in a tight embrace.

“See why I’m gay? You don’t get this shit,” I mumble into Kal’s shoulder, feeling his grip tighten around mine.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Brayden chimes in, pulling back slightly to look at me as Kal loosens his hold. “You just haven’t found the person that’s worth the pain, Tray.”

“Why pain? What kind of love is that?” I frown, puzzled.

“Everyone hurts you, Tray. Whether they mean to or not,” Brayden says softly.

“You just need to find the one worth hurting for,” Kal finishes.

I don’t bother telling them that it won’t be me because love doesn’t exist. Not true love. I learned that a long time ago.

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