"Damn Kitten... You got me acting like a teenage boy. Is that how it's going to be for the rest of our lives?" Xander moaned out
"Bold of you to assume I am spending the rest of my life with you" I giggled into his ear. A threatening growl escaped h...
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TW: MENTION OF DRUGS
XANDER'S POV
I was angry. And this time it wasn't because of the kitten or the detective or anyone else. I was mad at myself. What the fuck was I thinking. Forcing her into bed like that. I might be a monster but I am not a fucking rapist.
Taking my anger out on the punching bag was the best way to deal with my anger. It was the only way I knew how to deal with it. The last time I tried a different way, I almost killed the fucking therapist. I was 17 and since then I have been on my own.
Her screams echoed in my mind and it only fueled my anger. I continued punching the bag. For hours. I didn't even stop when my hands started to bleed. I didn't even stop when my hands became numb. I stopped when I passed out from exhaustion. When I opened my eyes, it was dark outside. My mind felt more in place and I could feel bits of my hand.
Getting up, I walked towards my car and headed to the safe house. As soon as I entered the house, I was met with extreme silence. There were a lot of things I learned to deal with. At some point in my life, I became an addict. Drugs were the only way I knew I could deal with my anger. But after Damien lost his sister, I had to be there for him. It was hard at first, but as months went by, I finally got a hold of myself.
