Ashes

→ chapter eleven.

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THE KITCHEN FELL BOTH still and silent then.

Jared was, for once, also silent and simply stood there, staring. It was like all of his rage had been seeped from him, leaving out a shelled-out husk of a Pack brother. 

Leah didn't say anything and sipped at her cold coffee. She couldn't help but wonder if this was how the rest of the Pack viewed her. Was she really so horrible to be around? Part of her didn't want to care but another part ached for the acceptance, the support and steadiness, she'd been denied in the most tumultuous time of her life. What was the point of Pack if she was an outsider around her own?

Jared's voice was deathly soft like satin. "Leah."

She didn't respond, didn't react, just hunched her shoulders and tightened her grip on the mug. A faint heat lingered in the ceramic against her fingers.

"I...never thought about it that way," he admitted reluctantly. 

He never...The snort of laughter escaped her before she could rein it in. It was loud and throaty, and it clawed its way out before she could register it. She looked at him, head bowed, shoulders hunched, and she laughed. It flowed out of her, demanding to be heard, and who was she to deny it? Over and over, she laughed, big belly laughs that made her stomach cramp and lungs ache, until she was in tears.

His expression twisted into a sullen thing, his voice waspish when he spoke. "What's so funny?"

"You never—you never thought about it that way!" she choked out between peals of laughter. Soon it died down and she hung her head, her stomach cramping. "I have a question for you." She heard the slivers of laughter in her voice and inhaled to calm the remnants that wanted to break free again.

"What is it?"

"Were you born dumb or did the Phase fuck with your brain?" She straightened and met his gaze head-on. "You never stopped to think about my pain but you certainly can sympathize with poor, poor Jacob Black."

Jake snorted at her words but there was no derision at her, only an acknowledgement of the hypocritical nature of their situations.

Jared scowled. "Seriously? You want me to sympathize and have empathy for you but you won't for me?" When she didn't reply, he continued, just as vicious as before, intending to draw blood. "I felt bad for you at the beginning, you know. When Sam disappeared, when you were out of your mind with worry. Then he came back and met Emily and you—you changed. You turned into a completely different person." 

"Because I was going crazy, so sure I was sensing something but everyone was gaslighting me," she snapped and inhaled sharply. "I think you'd go crazy too if you thought Quil was fucking Kim and everyone told you it was just in your head." 

The idea made him growl and it proved her point. Then he completely bypassed said point and said, "So that made it okay for you to treat everyone like absolute shit? Because Sam didn't want you?"

"Emily was my sister! And to see her with Sam..." —her voice cracked— "how was I supposed to feel? I wasn't allowed to be angry? I wasn't allowed to be hurt or sad? Would you have sat there, smiling, if Kim dumped you and got with Paul? No," she snapped, cutting him off, "I don't think you would've. I've tried to move on. I've tried to let go. I've tried and it isn't fucking enough, Jared. Can you really heal from broken legs if someone keeps striking them with hammers?"

"So what? Everyone's supposed to let you treat them however way because your feelings are hurt?"

"How are you missing my point this hard? I'm not asking for everyone to let me treat them however. What I want is to be left alone! I want to be able to be sad and angry and hurt without you or anyone else telling me how to feel. Every day, I had to be in his head...listen to how I'd been replaced. I could've dealt with that if I didn't have to be stuck in his stupid thoughts every single goddamn day. If I could've left, could've moved away. Do you think addicts in recovery surround themselves with addicts that aren't?" She shook her head and pressed the heels of each of her palms into her eyes to keep the angry, hot tears at bay. "This is pointless!" she cried as she turned her attention to Jake. "Nothing will get through his head." 

"Are you calling me stupid?" Jared's voice had risen to a yell.

Leah wheeled and snarled at him. "I'm saying you can't possibly put yourself in a woman's shoes, let alone mine, because you aren't fucking me and we aren't related! I'm saying this was hopeless and pointless to even try! You only care about your Pack brothers' feelings and your mate's. God forbid you attempt to put yourself—"

Jared rolled his eyes. "I'm supposed to lay down for a bitch who killed her dad."

The look on her face must've everything because Jake made no move to stop her as she lunged forward and punched Jared. As he fell, she didn't stop and whaled on him, driving her fists into his face over and over again. Every crunch was every cruel insult, every wail from him was every dirty look, and each burst of his blood was for every time he made her feel less than.

He fought against her, but her rage was too fierce, too intense, too feral. He was no match for her. She kept striking, the thump of her knuckles fading with the whoosh of blood rushing in her ears, until he lay still. His face was a bloody mess, and his eyes had swollen shut. In a day or two, he'd be fully healed but this would teach him never, ever to utter those words again.

She climbed to her feet, shared a long look with Jake, and walked out the door.