Page 41 of Beautifully Broken Control

“It won’t. You’d just lost your sister, Cain. It was understandable that you fixated on keeping the other woman in your life safe.”

I let out a laugh that was nothing but ugly. Dr. Murphy was always letting me off the hook, trying to get me to be more forgiving of myself. But he hadn’t smothered his girlfriend so much that she’d cheated. And he hadn’t beaten the guy she’d cheated with to the point of unconsciousness.

Memories assaulted me. The sheer panic every time Janie had left my sight. The incessant phone calls to make sure she was all right. Finding her at that frat house. Totally and completely losing it.

Miraculously, the guy hadn’t pressed charges, and I hadn’t been kicked out of school. A murdered sister bought you some leeway, apparently. But Janie had transferred schools, leaving me with only the knowledge that I had ruined the last good thing in my life.

If it weren’t for Walker and Tuck, I didn’t think I would have made it. I would’ve drowned at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. They’d found Dr. Murphy. For the first three months, one of them had driven me to Murphy’s office three days a week, knowing that if they didn’t, I wouldn’t have gone.

It wasn’t that I was against seeking help. I’d known I needed it. Desperately. It was just that everything felt like too much effort. I was moving through life with an extra five hundred pounds on my back. The weight of guilt and shame and sorrow.

Slowly, things began to change. The weight shifted. There were days when it still felt as if it would drag me down, but there were others where it only felt like a suitcase I was dragging behind me. That was the thing about grief, it was ever-changing. The most hopeful thing of all was the knowledge that no state I found myself in was final.

“Cain.” Murphy’s voice jolted me back into the present moment. “You’ve come so far. But your coping mechanism has always been to cut out anything that might cause you to stumble, to struggle.”

I bristled at that. I wasn’t afraid of a challenge. I’d built Halo from the ground up, started with no more than five hundred dollars in my pocket, and the determination to succeed. That didn’t mean I wasn’t terrified to fail, but I let every failure teach me, fuel me, spur me on.

“I’m not talking about business or your boxing or any other task that you’ve set your mind to accomplishing, Cain. You are one of the smartest and most hardworking people I know.” My shoulders eased a bit. “I’m talking about emotionally.”

The tension in my muscles ramped right back up. “I’m being cautious.”

Murphy sighed. “Drinking was a crutch. You’re not an addict, but you cut it out entirely. Caring for another woman caused you fear, so you cut out women altogether.”

I punched in the code to my gate a little more forcefully than necessary. “I haven’t exactly been celibate, Doc.”

“Fine. You avoid any women you have the potential to care about.”

“I have female friends. Jensen and Sarah.” I didn’t know why I was arguing, he was right.

“Both of whom you have no sexual interest in, am I right?” I stayed silent. “I’m right. I’ve got your first assignment.”

I threw my SUV into park in front of my house. “You and your damn assignments. I didn’t miss those one bit.”

Murphy chuckled. “I want you to find reasons to be around Kennedy. And I want you to live in the uncomfortable feelings that come up. Breathe into them. But don’t do anything to get them to go away. Don’t try to manage them.”

I hissed out a breath. “I’m volunteering at the shelter with her.”

“That’s perfect. Start keeping a journal. Track what comes up. And we’ll talk in a few days.”

“I’m worried I won’t be able to control it. That I’ll lose it again.” Just saying the words made me feel so incredibly weak.

“You called me for helpbeforethings got bad. You’re so much stronger now. Wiser. Whether we like it or not, grief is sometimes our greatest teacher.”

I’d give back every ounce of wisdom and strength if I could just have one more afternoon at the pond with Kiara. One more trip to the ice cream parlor. One more movie night where we laughed ourselves sick. “I have to go.” The raggedness in my voice was back.

“Okay. Be kind to yourself, Cain.”

“Talk soon, Doc.” I hung up and headed straight for the garage, thanking the universe that my gym equipment had been delivered with my furniture. I didn’t bother changing. Simply unbuttoned my shirt and hung in on a weight rack. I slipped on the boxing gloves and began slow, testing jabs on the bag.

The hits picked up speed, force. I lost myself in the rhythm. In the sounds. I let out everything I’d kept so tightly bottled up for the past twenty-four hours. I unleashed all the ugliness I held inside, the self-hatred, the pain, focused it all on the bag.

I didn’t stop until I could barely hold up my arms. My chest heaved, and sweat poured off me in waves. But the pain. There was barely a dent in that.

15

Kennedy

The grass tickledmy toes as I arched my aching feet. I was so very glad to have this afternoon off from dance and not just because it meant a trip to the park with Chuck. Dancing in pointe shoes that needed to be replaced meant that I’d bruised a toenail pretty badly.

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