The Heir's Little Badass

41: SWALLOWING SANDPAPER

Self-punishment is the worst kind.

You can't stop till you decide you've had enough, till you forgive yourself.

Self-forgiveness is the hardest kind to achieve.

My knuckles are raw and bleeding but that doesn't stop me from hitting the punching bag over and over again.

The door to the home gym opens and closes behind me.

"Occupied" I grit out, a trickle of sweat running down my face, and falling in between my boobs.

"For the last two hours" Zach points out.

I scoff, "shouldn't you be in your room, recovering?"

"I'm not the one who got shot"

I pause to glance behind my shoulder at him. Though his face is clean and his hands are free of blood, he is still wearing the clothes he was wearing earlier. Jay's dried blood staining the light blue fabric.

After we were told Jay would be alright and they were keeping him in the hospital till he woke up, Rome all but forced us into a van and had us brought back home, promising we'd see Jay the moment he woke up.

I shed my clothes and cried under the shower.

I tried to rest my exhausted body but visions of Jay's half-dead body plagued my mind.

I've been in the gym ever since then, punishing myself for putting my brother's life in danger.

I resume punching the bag relentlessly, "you've been in combat since morning, went through trauma and gave a lot of blood. You need to rest"

His footsteps echo against the tiled floor as he comes to stand opposite me and grabs the punching bag. "I could say the same for you"

I scoff, "It's my fault all this happened in the first place"

Zach pokes his head around and I see that his eyes are bloodshot. He's been crying. Really hard.

"It's your fault?" he asks incredulously.

I nod, "if I had been watching my own back, if I hadn't been so damn careless, Jay wouldn't have had to save me"

Zach bursts into laughter so surprising, I stop mid punch to stare at him, completely confused. His laughter isn't full of mirth but bitterness.

"Zach"

He stops abruptly and fixes me with a manic stare, "it's your fault? Dylan, I was right next to you. I should've been the one to save you. If Jay hadn't saved you, the bullet would've hit your spine, you could have died or gotten paralyzed. Jay got hurt doing my job and somehow it's your fault?"

I take a staggering step back. Zach blames himself. For not being able to save me, for not being able to prevent Jay from getting hurt, my brother blames himself.

"Zach, it's nobody's job to save me"

"Yes it is!" he yells and I take another step back as I watch a stranger manifest in my brother's body, "you're my sister, it's my job to have your back, to keep you safe and I couldn't do that! Jay is my twin and I put him in danger because I wasn't paying attention! I almost killed by siblings because I wasn't fucking paying attention!"

My feet move of their own accord and my arms wrap around my trembling brother before he can collapse to the ground, "Zach" I sob as he holds unto me, sobbing into my sweaty neck.

Both of us are a mess, dying inside from the worst kind of guilt—putting someone you love in danger.

We hold unto each other and I feel a weight lift from my shoulder as I finally believe Chase's words whispered to me furiously in the van and in the ambulance.