Transcending Nirvana (Dark Evoke #3) (11 page)

Ducking, weaving and bouncing on my toes, I concentrated on the sandy colored body bag in front of me, jabbing it quickly and forcefully. Uncle Les stood on the opposite side holding it steady, stopping it from swinging out.

I jabbed. I hooked. I concentrated on my rapid, dynamic hisses to gain more power and speed behind each blow, yet I could still sense unspoken words. “What is it, Les?”

“Eh?”

“Your hamster is going to die on its wheel or cut out its own fucking tongue unless you tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Ha, ha, funny man. Stop dropping your shoulder,” he quickly changed topic, noting my error, then sighed, “Do you remember the first day you put on a pair of gloves?”

Left jab, left jab, weave, right jab…

“Course I do. The smell of leather is like home to me now. Has been since that day.”

“You have no idea how long it took me to convince your Ma,” he smiled, thinking back. “Stop dropping your shoulder.”

“Yeah well, she hated it. Ma was more of a lover not a fighter.” And in that moment, I felt a sucker punch right in my gut. If she was more of a fighter then the chances are she could have fought a little harder. I could barely register it through my wandering thoughts, but I knew Les had gasped when my arms began to lay swift, precise punches without any thought. It was as though my joints had been well oiled and nothing could stop them.

Focusing on a tiny dot on the bag from under wounded, pissed off lids, I laid assault after assault.

“Buddy, she was a fighter.”

“Nah,”  shook my head, my teeth clenching at the thought of her scent as I wrapped my arms around her waist, and the way I would nuzzle my cheek into the loose skin of her belly which she often called ‘her piney’. “She didn’t fight as hard as she could have. She endured. She tolerated it. If she fought a little harder, a little longer…” I punched the sand-filled sack repeatedly, each additional strike harder and more grueling than the last.

“Hey, bud,” I blinked lazily and when I opened my eyes, they scoured from the bag to the man behind it taking the brunt end of a grief that I should have been over by now. I can’t think of Ma without getting emotional. Jesus Christ, I can’t even hear my own fucking name…

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Can we talk about something else, or just leave me alone. I need to concentrate.”

When he leaned in, adjusting the front of his shoulder against the bag as he held it firmly, I knew he was heeding my words. “What about this woman of yours, then? What’s she like?”

Arms fell like led laden limbs to my side. Tipping my head back I looked at the ceiling with a smile.

“Ah, one of those, eh?”

I frowned, confused.

“No matter how shite your day is, the mention of her always makes it easier. I told you the ladies love an Irishman.” I shook my head and raised my guard before setting back out on the bag, sweat burning my eyes as it flowed from my brow. “So is it serious then?”

“I’ve been emotionally invested in this relationship for over a year,” I gasped between punches. “In real-time, it’s been a week. So ‘aye, it’s serious for me.”

“And her?”

I stopped, taking a deep breath and swallowing. “A man can hope.”

“So what attracted you to her? You’re going to spew me the, ‘our eyes locked from across the room’, cack, aren’t ya.”

I chuckled, knowing how close to the mark he was. “I knew she was a soul that needed protecting. I knew she was a lover not much of a fighter, but she was strong. She stomached so much to keep the faith in someone…she endured a lot…”

“Sounds like someone…no wonder Carriag loves her like a daughter-in-law.”

“Let’s not jump the gun, eh, Les?”

“I’m just saying, it’s about time someone put a little sunshine back into the Walker/Brannon family.”

Within an hour in the gym, I worked every post available: the bag, speedball, skipping, sit-ups and sparring. So by the time I stretched out and cooled off my throbbing, sweat coated limbs, I felt close to dying. I hadn’t worked out that vigorously in a while.

Tossing the strap of the black bag over my shoulder, I headed for the door still in my training gear when Les called, “You’re looking at about two weeks before the next fight. Keep it up and I’ll ring ya to let you know the details.”

“’Aye. Cheers, Uncle Les.”

“See you tomorrow, bud,” he waved me off with a flip of his wrist before heading to the weight stand and reorganizing them into their rightful positions.

The clock flashed 4:42p.m as I made my way back home. All the while the conversation with Les played in my mind about Kady having strength to endure all sort of shite, but not being a fighter. But I was wrong. She had it in her to be a fighter, that was proved that very morning when she bit back, not wanting to talk about the newest nightmare to plague her dreams. Checking the rearview mirror as I pulled into a parking space, I smiled. That was why I told her never to be sorry. I somehow need her to understand that it’s good to fight back, she must fight back. Use your weakness as an advantage, just like Da told me. That was my new task. I fought to make her remember, I fought to make her see that she was worth more than what Liam was doing to her. Now I needed to bring out the strength she had hidden away, and focus on using it externally.

How
to do that was another matter entirely.

Putting the truck into park, I turned off the ignition and grabbed the gym bag sitting on the passenger seat next to me, before removing myself and kicking the door shut. The never-ending flights of stairs did nothing for my overexerted body. My legs were heavy, my arms were heavy. Fuck, even my shoulders felt the weightiness of my fucking head resting on them. Still, I knew Kady would appreciate the results to some extent. That alone had me taking two stairs at a fucking time.

Slipping the metal into the lock, I twisted the key and booted the lower half of the door. When I stepped inside, closing the door behind me and dropping the bag just inside, I was immediately taken back by the smell of burning.

“Darlin’?” I called, taking a deep inhalation, when the hissing of simmering water overflowing and drying under the flame became a little clearer. Then a sob.

“Kady?” My sight lingering on the coffee table, a red table cover all disheveled, then Kady, curled up on the floor in front of the couch. Five lengthy strides and I was on my knees in front of her. “Darlin’, what happened?” On instinct, my hands pushed her blond hair, which was plastered to her face, away. Her makeup was smudged, her piercing blue eyes now red and sore as her tears came rapidly. “What the fuck…?”

Sniveling, she fought to catch her breath between sobbing and dry heaves. “Li–Li…Liam, he…he…”

Wide eyed, I felt my jaw tighten and my inspection journeyed down her body. Her skirt was pulled up enough to display the gaping hole in her tights between her legs. In that moment, I don’t know if my heart stopped, or if I was spiraling down into the pits of Hell.

“I thought he was you, he…he…”

I pulled her into my arms, feeling her physically shaking against me as she gave into her despair. I kissed the top of her head; my spoken words were barely a whisper past the blood gushing through my ears. “Did he…di…” fuck. I couldn’t even bring myself to say the fucking words. I was sick to my stomach.

“He might as well have.” Her words sliced my chest and shredded my heart. Her grip on my top tightened, pulling me closer.

Although I didn’t want to, I pried her from my body. If anything, I wanted to stay with her and comfort her in any way that I could. But the need to have that fucking prick in my hands was too strong and I couldn’t fight it. Her arms were somewhat crossed as I grasped her by the upper arms and studied her pale, mascara-streaked face. She looked cracked beyond all recognition. “Lock the door behind me, darlin’. You understand? I won’t be long.” Rearing up, I kissed her on her hairline and paced to the door. “That fucking cunt, he’s not getting away with this––”

“Walker please, no…” I just about heard her fraught, chipping voice as I yanked the door shut behind me.

I could have been a NASCAR driver with my abilities, dodging and weaving through the rush-hour, Boston traffic, paying ill attention to red lights. All I could see when I closed my eyes was him on top of her as she fought against him. Liam’s not huge, but his weight could easily restrain Kady, and that alone made my stomach churn.

I always said I would be there, I would protect her. Who was I fucking kidding? I fucking failed. Again.

The pickup’s tires screeched to a halt outside the house which so many bad memories and encounters had taken place. Slamming myself from the truck, I made my way around the hood. “Liam!” I shouted, making my way up the entry steps. “
DELANEY, GET YOUR FUCKING WORTHLESS ARSE OUT HERE YOU PRICK
!” With clenched fists, I thumped the door with the underside of my right hand. “
LIAM, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE. OPEN THE FUCKIN’ DOOR BEFORE I KICK IT FUCKIN’ IN
!”

The door was being pulled slightly open when I pushed my way through, grabbing fistfuls of the collar of his shirt and pushing his back to the wooden staircase. “What the fuck did you do to her?! What the fuck did you do?!” His body went limp as I shook him fearlessly.

When he simply laughed in my face, I released the fistful of designer shirt out of my right hand, and drew my arm back. “Go ahead, do your worst. I’m not going to fight back. Do you know why, Walker?” My eyes were wide, watching everything in slow motion as my teeth clenched. “Because you’ll get into more shit with the law if I don’t retaliate.”

“Fuck the law.”

“I should have fucked her, really,” he sneered, and out of nowhere, I stepped back dragging his pathetic arse up from the stairs and threw him backwards through the living room archway. The loss of footing sending him tumbling to the floor.

“You dare fucking touch her.”

“You know she begged me to stop. She cried and cried. She even called out your name but you never came.”

The adrenaline was so much, I could barely stand. Wide eyed and determined, I stalked into the room where he was sitting on the flooring, his elbows bracing his weight as he peered up at me, studying me with hard, unfeeling eyes and a sickening smirk over his face.

”Am I pushing your buttons? Good. Come and hit me then. Teach me a lesson; just remember that with you behind bars, which is where you’ll end up, you leave an opening. Who’ll be there to protect her if you’re not?”

As much as I hated to admit it, as much as I wanted to step those four extra paces into that room and put his face through the glass and marble coffee table, he was right. As sick as he was, I knew that acting on my adrenaline and testosterone, and putting the snake in his place, would bring more danger to Kady in the long run. And that was something I wasn’t prepared to do.

Scornfully pointing my finger down at his curled up, sorry body, I grated, “This isn’t over, DeLaney,” before turning on my heel and heading for the door.

“You’re right. It’s far from over,” his threatening words followed me out of the house, as the adrenaline demon steered me back into my truck and sped home to be the strength my girl desperately needed.

Kady

The jetting stream of scalding water from the shower didn’t help.

Shredding my flesh from the bone with the constant scrubbing and scrapping of the loofa mitt, wasn’t even strong enough to remove the touch of the man I desperately loathed from my body. His touch was parasitic, boring under each layer of skin and gnawing away until I finally felt the burning in my bloodstream, sending my entire being on fire. All I wanted was to escape it, strip it from me in any way possible.

This was by far the most horrifying action he had ever bore on me, and I truly felt broken. Violated and dirty.

As the towel stripped yet more flesh from my body with hasty drying, I looked up into the mirror hovering over the sink and cursed myself once again, for causing his reaction. Over the years one thing I had learned was that consequences follow an action. Lessons need to be taught, and my insolence and sheer disregard of his feelings and disrespect was the catalyst to those consequences.

If only I could go back to that morning and use what semblance of IQ points I had, and not dialed his number to warn him off, then none of this would have happened.

After stepping into my pink yoga pants and pulling the white camisole over my head, I gathered what remained of my tainted clothing from the linoleum flooring and followed the potent smell of burning into the kitchen. After everything, my sole thought was to scrub the touch of him away, and I’d completely forgotten to remove the pots from the range. Without a second thought, I twisted the dials off, tossing the pots onto the unit. They were utterly ruined. I hoped they didn’t hold any sentimental value to Walker. I could only deal with one dose of guilt that day.

I was standing in front of the opened cutlery drawer in a trance–like state, not feeling as though I was really there just staring at the glinting silver blades of the knives in silence. My head awash with self-scolding which turned abruptly to anger and resent, I felt my heartbeat increase and vibrate throughout my body. I hated him for having control over me. I hated me for being so weak and not reclaiming it back. I hated that my instant reaction was to fold my fingers around the handle of a jagged blade.

With a shaky hand, I held up the blouse which he had contaminated with his brutality and pierced it with the razor-sharp edge of the knife continuously, shredding it to pieces, wishing it was my body, and letting it drift to the flooring. I soon followed. My body giving way to the burden and invisible heaviness of his, which loitered on my flesh, and with the knife in my hand, I met the floor in a crumpled heap.

Hearing the door slamming in the distance, I allowed myself to be overruled by my despair and dirtiness. The intensified burning of the blade, scouring to and fro across the inside of my forearm, stripping away his touch, was just the beginning. All I wanted was to let my rage and adrenaline bleed out as I took control back.

“Kady––” My breathing came in short, rapid pants, my mouth dry, while my gaze centered on the jagged edge in my hands. “Don’t you dare,” I saw his sneakers enter my peripheral vision when he entered the kitchen, taking the weapon from my hand and tossing it into the sink. “You don’t need to do this anymore, Kady,” he cautioned.

Blood gushed through my ears, my hands rose as I tossed my face into my palms, shaking my head. “I can’t do this…I can’t fucking do this. All I can see is…” When I peeked up from my hands, I didn’t expect to see him gone.

The slamming from down the hallway told me that he fled to the bedroom. I followed the sound of music emanating from behind the door, and in my anger, kicked it open. The sight of him on the edge of the bed, his hands in his hair and shaking was not something I was prepared to see.

“Walker…”

His eyes were fierce, his features, stone, when he peeked up. “I come back and see you attacked. I go out in search for the bastard responsible, and when I come back, I see you with a fucking knife! What the fuck are you thinking, Kady? You don’t need to do that shite anymore.” He pushed himself from the bed, the springs squealing as he reared to full height.

“Me…I wasn’t fucking thinking. I can’t fucking think, Walker; all I can focus on, all I can feel is his weight, his touch…it burns Walker, it fucking burns…” in my desperation, I fell to my knees. “I need help. I just need to numb it, please. Help me, make me numb.”

Seconds…minutes…I have no recollection how much time had passed, all I could do was focus on the hidden parasite burrowing further under my skin, crawling and clawing its way through my body and mind. Finally, the sound of a belt being yanked through the belt loops of his jeans, which were lying on the bed, had my gaze instantly scouring up the length of his body. I found my body rising with my stare. My thumbs naturally began to sink under the band of my pants when I was halted by his firm voice muttering, “No.”

Walker held out his hand, the strip of leather hanging from his grip.

“What are you doing?”

“Take it,” he ordered, his eyes dithering between me and the strap when I didn’t comply immediately.

“Why?”

“Just do it, Kady.”

Warily seizing it from his possession, I watched on as his arms curled behind his head, grasping the neck of his tank-top and pulling it up and off his body. The muscles of his abdomen tensed, his shoulders held back as he raised his head defiantly. Each scar obscuring the golden flesh of his torso was jittering with each quickened breath.

“What are you doing, Walker?”

“I’m helping you.”

Frowning at his words, I chanced a glimpse at the black leather in my hand before peering back at the wall of self-mutilation before me. Oh, no. My head shook without thought, my fingertips felt cold and numb, sending the weapon clattering to the floorboards.

“Pick it up, Kady,” he breathed. Still, I flailed my head as I backed away to put some distance between us, causing him to take a step forward.

“What are you doing?”

His hand came up to cradle the side of my mortified face, his thumb caressing my cheekbone. “I’m helping you––”

“This isn’t helping me, you know how to help me––”

“I’m not going to numb you anymore, Kady. You need it to feel in control. You need to learn to fight back; you need to turn your weakness into an advantage. You need to help me, to help you.”

“
NO
! I’m not doing it, and you can’t make me.” I stepped back again, feeling the bedside unit behind my legs.

“Pick up the fuckin’ belt, Kady!” he bellowed. “You’re not weak. You’re Kady Jenson. You’re a fucking fighter.” His mouth twitched as his eyes pled with me to let him help.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I sobbed.

With a smile, he muttered with finality, “You can’t hurt me, Kady. Now pick it up.”

Shaking my head with a snivel, I reluctantly lowered myself to the floor and swept up the strip of leather into my grasp. When I reared to full height, Walker was already falling to his knees in front of the bed, his back facing the door, and although his head was low, he was still aiming his gaze over his left shoulder. I watched through my horror as the black panther on his back shifted and expanded with each breath he drank.

My body was shaking, my stomach roiled as my grip tightened around the buckle.

“Take it back, Kady,” he softly commanded over his shoulder.

Sniveling on a trembling breath I looked up to the ceiling. My mouth quivering as twin tears slipped down my cheeks. It was so much easier to numb myself from these feelings. I didn’t want to face them. I didn’t want to embrace them to make me stronger, either. I wanted to feel detachment, numbness, and he wasn’t letting me.

“For each time he took that control from you, take it back.”

I was standing behind him, feeling his expectant gaze on me as I continued holding my head back and listened to his words, while the warmth of my tears left trails down my cheeks.

“Each time he degraded you…take it back.” My heart hammered against my ribcage, my labored breathing aiding yet more weeping gasps from my lips. “Each time he hit you…”

My fingers grew tighter around the buckle, and before I could stop, my arm lifted, my wrist flicked and the sound of leather cut through the air to end with a slash across healthy flesh, sending Walker jerking with the strike, a small gasp traveling on his following words, “Take it all back, Kady. Take it back.”

The re-raising of my arm was shadowed by the many memories of Liam’s deriding words,
you’re nothing, you’re stupid, you’re delusional.
The sound of cutting flesh from the edge of the belt shaded my words of empowerment, as I shouted my verification of belief between each statement, “I am something.”
Whip.

I own you…

“You don’t own me!”
Whip.

When an animal shits on your upholstery, you punish it…

“I’m not an animal! I’m not a nothing! I’m not hopeless! I am worth something!”
Whip…

Each crash of my arm between statements sent Walker gasping for air and lurching back as the leather continued to rip through his back. Yet in that moment, I was watching from the opposite side of the fence, watching mortified as the man who once loved the woman who would’ve given her life for his, was debased by his ill-treatment and barbaric means. As an outsider, I fought back for the woman he stripped down and remolded into his plaything.

The many scenes of Liam’s hand grasping her jaw…his abusive arm pulling back…his leg colliding into her ribs time and time again…

“I didn’t deserve it!”

Whip…

His strike upon her leaving her cowering in the corner…her head being smashed into the wall…the tablet forced down her throat…

“I am worth more!”

Whip…

“You. Didn’t. Deserve. Me!” Between each word, a rapid lash divided the air, and connected with the enflamed surface of Walker’s beaten back. The black edge of each screaming slash across the panther’s back was raised and raw.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, my fingers loosened around the belt and I fell to my knees. “You were supposed to love me,” I muttered, defeated, to Liam for subjecting me to his sadistic abuse, or to Walker for making me step out of the shadows, see the painful truth and take my control back, I don’t know, but what I did know without a shadow of doubt and a face soaked with tears, was that I was done being a victim.

Kneeling on the floor trembling and weeping, I soon felt warm, caring arms encase me. Careful not to touch the tender rips in his flesh that were done at my hand; I instinctively wrapped my arms around him.

“You were supposed to love me,” I wept into his neck.

As he held me against his chest, my hair was fingered and a kiss planted on top of my head. When I tore myself away and studied his gorgeous face, tears were streaming down his cheeks, too. “Why did you make me do that?”

“Because I had to break you to make you stronger,” his thumbs caught my tears. “Everything you learned while you were with him, everything you resorted to…it’s gone, darlin’. You don’t need to do it anymore…
I’m
not going to do it to you anymore. This is a chance for a new beginning.”

His words and the numerous acts of sheer, unquestionable passion and determination that he’d carried out during the time I’d known him, gradually began to clear through the torturous haze which obscured everything that I knew for far too long. And before I could talk myself into fighting it, I reached for it with both hands and embraced it. “I love you.”

Through his tears, his dimple appeared as he smiled. “I love you, too, darlin’.” When I snuggled back into the crook of his neck, he spoke again. “If you can find the strength to do that to someone you love, then you can find the strength to do it to someone you hate.”

What was he talking about? Confused, I breathed, “I don’t understand. He knows I’m scared––”

The shake of his head had my words ceasing. I pulled back, studying him. “No. The sick bastard’s using a weakness to control you. He
thinks
you’re scared. Let him think it and use it to your advantage. I know you’re stronger; you know you’re stronger. You just took control, Kady, and that’ll be the last thing he’ll expect.”