Page 137 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
“You mean the fact that you sat there silently like a fucking twelve-year-old instead of actually participating in any planning? Yeah. That,” Riale says.
I shrug.
“You know where I stand,” I grind out, turning away from him. He grabs my shoulder, gripping tight. On instinct, I throw a punch, and it lands on his cheek.
It takes only a second for Riale to recover, and when he does, he laughs.
“This situation is fucked up all around, but we’ve never moved past the shit with Shae.Everythingcomes back to this shit with Shae, and since it’s clear you’re not gonna be able to move past your rage and be rational until you feel you’ve received justice—” Riale pulls his shirt off and throws it at my feet. “Meet me in the goddamn ring.”
He doesn’t wait for me to verbalize agreement. Instead, he walks to the far end of the gym, flips on the spotlight over the practice ring, and hops over the ropes.
I glare at him, ready to tell him to fuck off, when he opens his fucking mouth again.
“You know what your problem is, Storm?” Riale leans against the top rope, his hands dangling over the edge. “You think you’re the only person who’s been hurt. You think you’re the only person who’s gone through some shit.”
I grind my molars.
“Newsflash, Sandoval. You’re not that fucking special.”
I should walk away, because I know what he’s doing—he’s trying to goad me into fighting. I resist, though, and it dawns on me that maybe I don’t want to release my anger….
…because if I release my anger toward Riale, what will I have left to hold on to?
Grief and shame peer around the edge of my consciousness, waiting for their chance to take the stage.
“Fuck off, Riale,” I say, picking up the gloves and placing them on the side table.
“Nah,” Riale spits back, moving around the ring to track my movements. “That’s your issue, Storm. You think you’re a god, but I’m sorry to tell you, you’re a mere mortal. You’re a man who makes some stupid-ass decisions. But you’re not man enough to own up to the consequences.”
I whirl on him, taking angry steps toward the ring.
“You think I don’t live with the consequences of my actions? Ofeveryone’sactions? Be so fucking for real, Riale,” I say. He smirks, and yep, there goes my fist clenching tight.
“Sure you do, Storm,” he drawls, the words dripping with sarcasm. “Here’s the truth: You’ve been so caught up in your ‘she didn’t tell me about the twins’ sob story, you forget the part whereyou left her,Storm. You broke that girl in half, and now you act like you're owed something. You want forgiveness without doing the fucking work.”
I shake my head, denying his words, even though a voice in my brain whispers, “Don’t you think that’s true, Storm?”
I barreled back into her life, made grand declarations, and…isn’t that what I did the first time? And then, all those years ago, I cut off ties so brutally, so devastatingly, it broke her.
No. I didn’t break her. I changed her.
“If you ever loved that girl, you’d let her go. She should be free, but you’ve got your hooks so deep into her, you don’t even realize you’re killing her.”
“Stop.” My vision starts to fizz around the edges the more he talks.
“Nah, Storm. Someone needs to tell you the truth, seeing as no one ever does. They’re scared to upset you—to send you off the deep end, but it’s time we all stopped babying you.”
I hop over the ropes, unclenching my muscles and facing Riale head-on.
“Finally, here we go,” Riale says, loosening his limbs.
“You’re so holier-than-thou, Riale. If only you could see that’s why your life is fuckingmiserable,” I spit, circling my best friend.
I don’t want to do this, but I know I’ve worn this armor as long as I can. Riale’s making me face this shit, and I’ll make him bleed for doing so.
“Yep, keep it comin’, Sandoval,” he mocks, arms up and tensed.
“You think I’m spoiled, entitled. Have you ever looked in a goddamn mirror? You think the world owes you, but you’re wrong. Nobody owes you shit,” I throw back.
