- Zade Collins:
I wasn't even sure how long I'd been outside.
The sun was already high, heating the marble tiles of the backyard until they burned against the soles of my feet. But I didn't care. Sweat dripped from my forehead, ran down the back of my neck, soaked through my shirt. My fists burned from the impact with every strike.
Punch.
Again.
Harder.
My gloves cracked against the worn leather of the punching bag, each blow louder than the last.
God.
I was furious.
At myself. At Chris.
At the whole damn situation.
I should've made sure.
I should've waited, checked, done anything except blindly assume the person walking into the kitchen was Chris. But no—I had to be the dumbass brother who let his anger control him. And who paid the price?
Blake.
Of course.
The one person who didn't deserve it. The one person who trusted me, who looked at me like I was worth so much.
And I just humiliated him.
Publicly.
