Page 57 of Falling for Fury
“I don’t think so, pretty-boy. You got lucky with that one. Better hold on to it, because it was your one and only for today.” Her tone levels out on a sigh as she continues through the front door, it closing behind her. I shake my head and try to ignore the warmth rapidly filling my chest. You’re totally screwed, Karvelas.
“Your cage number is 5, down the hall to the left. All the items on the table on the far wall are fair game, you can use either a bat or just throw the items and go nuts,” the customer service lady says from behind the front desk as I pay for two entries. She gives us a pass to the room and we head down the hall.
“Using a bat?” I ask Addison, giving her a sidelong glance as she watches the chaos in the other rooms.
“Bat, for sure. But fair warning, we might end up in the emergency room.” She chuckles softly.
We swipe the key and enter the room. It is a sterile white room filled with tables and typical breakable things. Plates, bowls, old CD players, radios, computers, TVs. The kind of crap no one uses, that you can break without hurting yourself. They have us in full body suits and protective goggles to help further avoid any additional damage to our bodies. I look at Addison and try to decipher her expression.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“I guess I am nervous. I don’t really know where to start.” She chuckles self-consciously, looking around and grabbing her waist like she is trying to hide. Like she doesn’t have this incredible fury just begging for a release. To lead the way, I grab a handful of plates and throw them at the far wall. I turn to look at Addison, the exhilaration flooding my veins, and the mirth only grows as I see the look of excitement spread across her face. She reaches for a pile of plates, looks me in the eyes, almost questioning whether she should do this.
“Go on, shortcake. Give ’em hell.”
She throws the plates against the wall with a grunt and then her body stills. She turns to look at me. “That was awesome,” she says breathlessly and walks over to the wall with the smashing equipment to reach for a bat. Without a breath, she turns and slams it into a boom box laying on a table and it smashes into a few pieces. The stereo has barely anytime to recoup before she is bringing it down again, again, again before it is nothing but tiny pieces of metal. A deep guttural laugh comes from deep within her and it makes me laugh. Such a tiny person with such aggressive noises, noises that do all sorts of things to me.
She looks at me, panting, a slight sheen to her eyes and her cheeks rosy. The sight of her like this makes the blood rush south, my dick straining against my pants. Fuck, she is hot. Between the breathy sounds, the blush along her cheeks, and the exhilaration vibrating from her, I want to push her up against this wall and give her an even better release.
She closes her eyes and looks to the roof and lets out the most animalistic laugh I have ever heard. “Fuck!” she yells. I join her then. With a bat of my own, I turn and smack a few items, old TVs and computers. She grabs a few more plates and other breakable porcelain items, like old vases and salad bowls. After about two minutes of silent smashing, my movements slow, and that is when I hear it. Low, deep whispers that feel like a growl.
“Screw your opinions.” SMASH
“All those times you made me feel broken.” CRASH
“Every time you made me feel small, like I wasn’t enough.”
I turn slowly to watch her, her face no longer that smiling unabashed picture of joy, but now a picture of pain, her body thrumming with furious energy. I flinch as she tips a table of items that go smacking to the ground, and she lets out a pained groan. She brings the bat down on the remnants of the broken items, her face pulled into an angry scowl, her cheeks brightly flushed.
“Addison.” It is barely more than a breath as I watch the white-hot rage take over her mind, body, and soul. She becomes her rage, and, damn, if it isn’t the most painfully beautiful thing I have ever seen. I can see the catharsis of her actions soaking through her. This is helping. I feel a sudden urge to hold her, ask her what she needs, and give her the entire world. I want to lift all her burdens and wear them for her. I feel the stabbing pain in my chest that she bears so much on her own, and I feel helpless that there is nothing I can do to help make it go away.
She lets out a scream that sounds a bit like it contained a sob, and that is when I move.
“Screw you. Screw your standards. Fuck you for blaming me, for making me feel less than. Fuck you!”
I grab her shoulders, “Addy… come here.” I try to calm her, she jolts her body out of my arms, my heart in my throat and my brain in a panic. I try to reach for her, but she has her bat in her arms and is already across the room.
“I am enough. I am powerful. I am loveable. I am not damaged. Why…” A sob breaks from her throat as she brings the last smash down.
“Why can’t people just love this side of me?” Her voice is soft. Outside the canyon breaking inside my chest, I can hear only her light sobs and her breath coming in fast.
Addison collapses to the floor, and I am instantly there. Dropping to my knees, ripping off both our goggles and bringing her to my chest. I wrap my arms around her tightly, unsure of what words to give her.
“Why…” Sob, sniff. “Am I really so hard to love? Why am I so broken? I just…” Sob, sniff. “I just want to be normal.” My heart shatters, eviscerates into dust.
Addison
I crash to the floor, not feeling my knees as the bat leaves my fingers. Pain. I feel pain so deeply in my chest, that familiar burn of not being good enough. The outlet of the rage, causing it to grow, to break free and manifest into all the reasons it simmers under my skin. Jake’s break up speech, my parents’ constant bullying and belittling, my inner monologue and fear of failure, berating me. Why can’t I be normal? Why am I so broken? Can I not wake up and feel joy at being alive, grateful for what I do have?
The sob that leaks from me is deep and filled with angst, and I feel the warm firmness and scent of spring wrap around me tightly as I finally let it all go. The tears are hot as they streak down my face. My stomach clenches from the pain and grief of letting it all go.
I just want to be enough. I just don’t want to be in pain. To feel it anymore.
“Addy, you are more than enough. You are the furthest thing from broken.” Noah’s rich voice soaks into my body as he holds me firmly to his chest, rubbing soothing circles on my back, his other hand clutching my head to his chest in a firm grip.
“Addison, you… you are so, so incredibly strong. Your anger, your fury, is so powerful. You could rule the world with that gift.” I lift my chin to look at him. Absolutely astonished at his words.
“Don’t you see? I know I’m still getting to know you, but you have to know, your anger and your rage are not things that make you broken. They protect you, they keep you strong.” I take a huge breath in, not handling the amount of vulnerability that is being emptied in this room, but not having the moisture in my mouth to swallow to be able to speak words. I search his eyes with mine. They are pained, deep wells of an emotion I can’t name.