Battle Scars

Chapter 10:

Leah

A week passes in a surprisingly comfortable routine. Mornings are filled with quiet coffee time with Jay, a ritual that's become oddly comforting despite the silence. Nate comes home, crashes for a few hours, and then heads out again to work nights. And I? I'm left to adjust to this new rhythm, one that feels both familiar and alien at the same time.

Today, my first disability check arrives, and the amount makes me pause. I try not to blanch at the number displayed on my phone. Well, awesome, I think sarcastically, I'm making the same amount as I did when I was actually working. It's unsettling in a way, but there's nothing to be done about it now. The reality of this new chapter sinks in just a little bit more.

By Friday, I'm in my bed, enjoying a rare moment of quiet, lost in a book. I'm reading to escape, like usual, when my door bursts open and Ki jumps into my bed with zero warning. I'm jolted out of my reading trance, adrenaline spiking as my eyes dart up to see him sprawled out on my comforter, grinning like a lunatic.

"Ki!" I shout, half-laughing and half-irritated. I bookmark my page and, without missing a beat, I kick him off the bed with my foot. He lands on the floor with a loud thud, groaning dramatically as he rubs his butt in protest.

"What the hell, man?" he complains, sprawled out on the floor like a wounded animal.

Jay rushes in a second later, his expression set in a glare aimed squarely at Ki. There's a tension in his shoulders that eases slightly when he sees I'm okay. He looks like he's about to murder Ki, but instead, he just grabs him by the arm like a dad scolding his unruly kid.

Their dynamic is almost cute, in a chaotic, brotherly sort of way. Ki's sulking while Jax mutters something under his breath, still holding onto his arm.

"Geez, I was just inviting her out," Ki protests, trying to free himself from Jay's iron grip. "You didn't have to throw me off the bed."

"Just inviting me where?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"To the local bar," Ki replies, finally getting Jay to release his hold. "We usually pregame here and then walk over."

"Who's we?" I ask, trying to sound casual but feeling my anxiety creep in. Meeting new people isn't exactly my idea of fun.

"Just the group," Ki says, like that explains everything. I glance at Jay for some clarification, but he just shrugs. Really helpful.

I hesitate, my stomach tying itself in knots at the thought of hanging out with multiple strangers. But they're both looking at me expectantly, and I know Ki won't let this go without a fight.

"Alright," I say reluctantly, trying to keep the dread out of my voice.

Ki's face lights up with a wide grin, and Jax seems to be holding back a smile. He hides it well, though, and waves Ki away so I can get ready.

Once they leave, I take a deep breath to steady myself. This is fine. Just a normal night out. I can handle this.

I rifle through my closet, looking for something that's both cute and functional. Eventually, I settle on a black shirt that's low-cut enough to make my boobs look good, but not so revealing that it shows the injury that's finally healing. The stitches are nearly gone, the skin less red and angry, and I'm down to just a medium-sized bandage instead of the full wrap. Progress.

I throw on some dark jeans and strap on my platform sandals. I take a moment to curl my hair and dust on a bit of makeup, my hands shaking slightly as I try to keep my eyeliner steady. It's not that I'm afraid of the night itself—it's the anticipation, the not knowing what's coming. I remind myself that it's just drinks with Jax, Ki, and whoever this "group" is.