carried across 40

40 Dealing With It 

Fenris 

The leather bag was old. It was cracked in several places, leaking thin streams of sand onto the stone floor every time I hit it. The heavy chains groaned, a high-pitched metallic scrape that echoed in the small, windowless space. This was the belly of the mountain, a place the torches barely touched The only sound was the rhythmic thud-thud of my knuckles hitting the hide. 

I punched harder. I wanted the ache. I needed the sharp, white-hot sting in my wrists to drown out the memory of how Sera’s pulse had hammered against her neck when I leaned in earlier. I could still smell her-that Southern scent of citrus and something soft-clinging to my skin. 

“What did the bag do to you?” 

I didn’t stop. I didn’t turn around. I just drove a left hook into the leather, making the bag swing wild. 

Dimitri walked into my peripheral vision. He leaned his shoulder against the damp stone wall and crossed his arms. He looked exactly the same as he did the morning he rode out to the battle that killed him. Same smirk. Same relaxed posture. And he hunts me. On purpose. 

“You’re going to break your hands, little brother,” Dimitri said. 

I grunted, a short, ugly sound. I threw a right cross. The chain screamed as the bag jerked back. 

Dimitri watched me. He was always patient. He’d wait for me to exhaust myself before he started pushing. I kept at it until my lungs burned and sweat was stinging my eyes. My arms felt like they were filled with lead, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. If I stopped, the silence would come back. And with the 

silence came her. 

“This is about the girl,” Dimitri said. 

I swung a heavy blow. The bag flew away from me. “It’s not.” 

Dimitri let out a low chuckle. “Brother. I’m dead, not stupid.” 

J 

I finally stopped. I stood there, chest heaving, staring at the bag as it slowly came to a rest. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t handle the knowing look in those eyes. 

“She’s yours,” I said, my voice like gravel. “The contract was yours. The arrangement was yours. I’m just- 

“Fulfilling your duty?” Dimitri interrupted. “Honoring your dead brother’s wishes? Is that what you told her? 

I didn’t answer. 

Dimitri pushed off the wall and walked closer. I couldn’t feel the warmth of a body, but I knew he was there. “You’re making excuses. The bond is real. I can see it written all over you. And instead of doing something about it, you’re down here beating a dead cow because you’d rather punish yourself than 

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40 Dang With it 

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admit you feel something.” 

I turned then. I looked at the ghost of my brother. “She doesn’t belong to me.” 

“The bond says otherwise.” 

“I didn’t ask for the bond.” 

“Neither did she,” Dimitri said, tilting his head. “Yet here you both are. You told her you want to fuck her. Then you walked away. What was that? A tactical retreat? A display of ‘duty’?” 

My jaw tightened. I turned back to the bag and started unwrapping my fists. The white cloth was damp with sweat and smeared with a few drops of blood. My knuckles were raw and red underneath. 

“I shouldn’t have said it,” I muttered. 

“But you did.” 

“I know.” 

“And now you’re hiding in a basement hitting things instead of dealing with it.” 

** 

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