Page 10 of Mutual Obsession (Rivals of Blackthorn #2)

F or the past few days, I’ve made a conscious effort to stay away from Caged. Whenever Marcus has to go there for work, I send another guard in my place—usually Leo.

I’ve had a fairly good excuse each time, but I’m not stupid enough to think that Marcus hasn’t worked out what I’m doing. He just has the good sense to keep his mouth shut about it.

I thought that if I kept away from her, I’d be able to calm myself down and think about the situation rationally, but that hasn’t happened. If anything, the rage continues to simmer just beneath the surface, just waiting for a reason to bubble over.

As I pull on my workout clothes, slamming the locker closed when I’ve filled it with the stuff I just took off, I crouch down to tie my laces, focusing on my breathing as I do. Ever since I overheard Chloe and Marcus’ conversation last night, I’ve been on edge.

I shouldn’t give a shit that Jake took Indie out on a date, or that they’ve been spending a lot of time together.

Neither of them mean anything to me anymore, and I definitely don’t get to have a say on who either of them dates…

Yet the idea of them together creates a maelstrom in my stomach that I can’t explain.

Sleep evaded me for most of the night, as I tossed and turned, trying to drown out the noises in my head. How the fuck did the two people who broke my heart find each other?

It sounds super fucking bitter, but why do they get to be happy after the hurt they caused me? That disturbing and slightly irrational thought kept me awake, and now I’m exhausted.

Tired, angry, and on edge are not a great combination, which is why I’m at the Morelli-owned gym, so I can work out my frustrations. One of the great things about being in charge of security is that I always have a long line of people I can beat the shit out of and call it training.

The first couple of newbies that get in the ring with me have no idea what they’re facing. But after letting my anger dictate my movements, I’m able to take them down far quicker than I should in a situation that’s supposed to be a teaching opportunity.

After that, the guys are reluctant to volunteer to get in the ring with me…and I don’t blame them. I’m not pulling my punches, and I’m not holding back. It would take a very experienced fighter to even stand a chance against me, and the majority of these guys are still trainees.

As a new, slightly terrified young man enters the ring, it occurs to me I’m not even teaching them the way I normally do.

Usually, I’d talk through my stance, my moves, how I predict what my opponent is going to do, and how I plan my next blow, but not today.

Today, I can’t get my brain to focus enough to provide instructions.

All I keep thinking about is what sort of date Jacob took Indie on.

Did he kiss her? Has he fucked her? Has she told him why she’s really here?

These thoughts are whirling through my brain on repeat, and it’s driving me fucking crazy. The biggest problem is that I’m not sure what I’m most jealous of…Jake dating Dee, or Indie getting to date Jacob.

I’m such a fucking mess, I think as I land a blow that puts the young kid on his arse just a minute into the fight. He’s panting, looking up at me with fear in his eyes, but I just ignore him.

“Who's next?” I growl, motioning for him to get out of the ring, so someone else can take his place.

Before anyone can step forward, the door to the gym slams open, the sound reverberating around the room as it crashes against the wall. I turn towards the loud noise, taking up my fighting stance as I fix my gaze on the figure stalking towards me.

Jacob is taking long, purposeful steps as he walks towards me with a fierce scowl on his face. His chocolate eyes are fixed on me, and I’m not even sure he’s aware that there’s a room full of people watching him as he storms towards me, looking pissed.

“Why are you ignoring my calls and messages, arsehole?” he shouts, not caring that the trainees in the room are all gawping at him.

“I’m busy,” I reply lazily, gesturing to the people who are all circled around the ring, watching the drama unfold.

Jacob casts his gaze around the room, finally noticing the people. Some are openly staring, wondering what is going on, while others have the good sense to look away and pretend they can’t see anything. They’re the people that will go far in this business.

“Get out.” Although Jacob doesn’t direct his introduction to anyone in particular, the volume with which he shouts it makes it clear he’s talking to everyone—except me.

A few don’t even blink before they’re scurrying off toward the changing room, whereas some remain frozen with their gaze fixed on me, waiting for my instructions.

“Get the fuck out!” Jacob yells, his face turning red as his anger seeps into his voice.

With a small head nod, I give them the permission they’re looking for to leave the room. I also make a mental note of all the people who left, knowing I’m going to have to punish them for it.

Jacob may be one of the rules of Blackthorn, but they work for me, which means my word is the only one they should follow. If anything were to happen to me after they left the room, it would be their fault for not doing their job.

No matter how intimidating someone is, they only answer to me. Their job comes before anything else, and I need to make sure they don’t forget that.

I watch as the last of the trainees exit the room; the door slamming behind them, and when I turn back around, I see Jake has climbed into the ring, and is advancing on me. He stops within arm’s reach and I freeze.

At first, his angry eyes are fixed on my face, almost like a challenge, but then he slowly drags his gaze lower. My body heats wherever he looks, almost like I can feel the hot trail that his gaze leaves over my body.

As he takes in my naked, sweaty chest, his breath hitches and his eyes darken. I drag in a ragged breath, my heart racing under the intensity of his gaze.

What was full of anger just moments before has turned into something dangerous. The lust in his eyes has the power to hurt me so much more than his anger ever could.

Seeing him this close, looking at me in this way, seems to make all the anger and tension seep out of me. My shoulders sag and I can’t help how deflated I sound as I ask, “What do you want?”

Jacob’s eyes snap up to meet mine, and I hate the care I see reflected. “What’s going on with you?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I mumble, shaking my head slowly. “I’ve been busy.”

Jacob scoffs loudly, pulling my attention back to him. “You missed our sponsor counselling session today. You never miss them.”

Although there’s no anger in his voice now, only concern, I can’t stop the shameful feeling that hits me, making my stomach roll.

When I agreed to be Jacob’s rehab sponsor, it was both the hardest and easiest decision I’ve ever made, making it by far the most confusing. He needed a sponsor who wouldn’t take any shit from him, who wouldn’t give in when he pushed them, and he knew that was me.

I said yes straight away, because I wanted to help him.

I may never be able to be with Jacob, and we might have agreed not to be friends anymore, but the last few years, watching him lose himself more to drink and drugs was like a form of torture.

I watched the guy I knew fizzle away, and I hated it.

So when he agreed to get help, I said I’d support him.

What made it the worst decision is that I could no longer pretend he didn’t exist. I could no longer watch him from afar, pretending I don’t care about him.

I was forced to spend time with him, to be there for him whenever he needed someone, to listen to him as he worked through his demons. And as I suspected, once the old Jake came back, so did my feelings. Though it’s easier to ignore them when I remember the pain they caused.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, dropping my eyes to the floor, so he can’t see how awful I feel.

“Not good enough. Why didn’t you show up?” Jake asks, his voice more firm than chastising now.

I let out a huff, but otherwise, stay silent.

Jacob takes a small step closer, and his intoxicating scent hits me, forcing me to stumble backwards.

He matches my movement with one of his own, remaining close to me, and when my back hits the rope and I have nowhere to go, that’s when he stops right in front of me.

I can’t bring myself to look up, to see his expression. I know I’ve let him down, and the shame I feel will only worsen if I catch a glimpse of him. He lets out a sigh that breaks my heart.

“I know we’re not exactly friends. I still remember the day, all those years ago, when you made me promise to never be friends with you again.

You said we could be civil for Marcus’ sake, but that we could be nothing more.

You never even wanted to be alone in the same room as me, and I respected that.

Until the day you agreed to be my sponsor.

“You helped me when I had nobody else I could ask or could trust. It broke all the rules you set, and all the promises you forced me to make, but once again, you put my needs before your own.

“You’ve been there for me through my toughest times. You’ve seen me at my worst, and you’ve helped me get through it, even though I’ve never deserved your support. So, after all that, why are you abandoning me now?”

The way his voice breaks at the end shatters me, and I can’t help lifting my gaze to meet his. His chocolate eyes are glistening as they bore into mine, almost like he’s trying to silently plead with me.

“I’m not abandoning you…” I tell him, my voice low and empty. “I’m just protecting myself.”

I feel like shit. I may be mad at him for dating Indie… Hell, I may even be jealous of them, but that isn’t a good enough reason for me to stop being the sponsor I promised him I’d be.

“I’m confused,” Jake admits. “What are you protecting yourself from?”

I shake my head at his naivety. Does he really have no fucking clue why I’m angry and wound up right now? Why I might be mad at him?

Just the thought of him not being aware enough to have even thought of the millions of questions that are running through my brain brings back the anger that never seems to go away. It’s always humming away just under the surface, waiting for something to trigger it—like now.

I fix my piercing gaze with his, and the intensity seems to startle him a little as his eyes widen.

“I agreed to be your sponsor, and I don’t regret it.

I knew I’d have to be there for hard conversations, listening while you hash out the past, and I was fine with that, as I’d do anything to help you get better.

But there’s a point where I have to consider myself, my own feelings, my own sanity. ”

“What? I…” Jake lets the words hang there as he struggles to finish his sentence, so I continue.

“Standing on the sidelines, watching someone else get to have everything you’ve ever wanted hurts more than anything. I’ve done it before and it almost killed me. I can’t do it again.”

Thoughts of Jacob and Indie together flash in my mind as I say the words, giving them more power than I intended. I’ve watched Jacob move from woman to woman, and each one that gets to kiss or touch him in the way I never can, is like a knife to my heart.

I thought I’d put it behind me and moved on with Dee. I fell for her hard and fast, and then she left me. I wondered constantly if she moved on to someone else. If another man was kissing her the way I wanted to, those thoughts drove me crazy.

Now, the only two people I’ve ever loved are with each other, and that jealousy, sadness, and longing that I’ve desperately been trying to ignore seems to be amplified.

I should hate them both, as well as being angry at them for not considering my feelings, but I feel so much, I can’t pinpoint just one emotion. I’m drowning in them.

Jake looks at me like I’ve punched him in the gut, bringing up a past I’ve never spoken about in front of him before.

His mouth opens like he wants to say something, and his arm twitches upwards, as though he might try to reach for me, and panic sets in.

If he speaks or touches me, I might break, and I can’t do that right now.

Without saying a word, I quickly climb out of the ring and walk towards the dressing room. I hear him mutter my name, almost like a plea for me to come back, but I don’t. I can’t even bring myself to look back, or I might lose the last of my strength.

Instead, I keep my head high and force one foot in front of the other, as my stomach rolls and nausea overtakes me. My heart breaks with each step I take.