Fame

Chapter Seven

I was so pissed. I didn't get to get punchy with anyone or anything in that class!

But I did get to see a glimpse of a certain you know who wearing a hoodie and tinted sunglasses as he dropped his little sister off at her first self-defense class. I would be lying if I didn't say that even in clothing that hid almost every feature he was still sexy as hell.

I had been standing outside waiting on her to arrive and he decided that he would drop her off incognito.

He pulled up and upon seeing me waiting for her, a fight ensued in the car. There was shouting and the slamming of one's door, but once she emerged from the silver luxury vehicle, she was all smiles as if nothing had ever even happened.

But anyways, back to the punching, or rather, the entire lack thereof. The entire class was wasted on talking about being safe with your surroundings, using keys as weapons, how not to wear your hair in a ponytail as an attacker can use it to grab you, always carry a big purse as it can be seen as a weapon, and don't be distracted on your cellphone as that makes you easy prey.

It was all good and well advice, but I hadn't put on workout gear for nothing.

After the girls had dispersed and Amy and I had parted ways, I found myself gravitating towards the school gym in the back of the rec center.

I hopped up on a treadmill and ran hard for a good twenty minutes before my side started to cramp up.

I switched gears and moved to the stair climber, but that wasn't doing it for me either.

Surely there was something I could punch in this gym?

I followed the sounds of punching towards the back and found myself in a small boxing area with a few punching bags held up by silver chains, and two boxing rings that looked state of the art.

We were the biggest college in the entire state so I assumed it was for our boxing team, as naturally our school had every athletic team imaginable.

I needed to find a station that had something along the lines of 'punching bags for dummies'.

I couldn't find anything of the like so upon realizing I was pretty much alone save for a random guy in the corner working on his biceps, I began punching one of the black bags hanging from the ceiling.

It. Fucking. Hurt.

I punched again.

It hurt again.

I curled my hand into a fist and then stretched it out again, and then pictured Sawyer's face on said punching bag.

I punched again.

It hurt, but this time it was a satisfying pain.

I kept punching until my arms were sore, left, right, left, right. I even added a few kicks into the mix but that moved the bag too much so I had to steady it again before I could punch it again.

I could feel the sweat dripping down my hairline but I kept going, focusing all my hate and rage until there was nothing left in me but pain and sorrow and then I felt the break inside me as if a dam had been shattered, but the dam had always had a hairline fracture in it and it only took a tiny pebble to let the water surge forward.

Punch. Sob. Punch. Sob.

I fell to my knees as the tears kept coming, overwhelming me even though I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.

I knew it wasn't really Sawyer's fault that my brother had died; I just used him as a scapegoat because I already hated him, and it was just easier to hate him more.

It was easier than facing the real truth.

I killed my brother.

It was my fault that he was fighting with that miscreant in the first place. If he hadn't walked in the room during that party, if he hadn't witnessed what he was doing...I could have handled the repercussions and the fallout of what would have happened had he not barged in.

I would have survived. And so would have Ryan.

But he had to defend me and my honor, I was his sister and he was my big brother, my sworn protector at all times.

But the one time I was ever actually in danger and he could have saved me...he did. And he died protecting me, and it was something I couldn't ever forgive myself for.

"Liss."

I stiffened at his voice. Twice in the same day, how wonderful.

"Go. Away."

Another sob tore through my chest and it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming outright from the pain of it all.

"Felicity."

He was right beside me then, and in an instant I was scooped up in strong arms and held against the chest of the one person who I swore to hate for the rest of my life, but in that moment I couldn't remember why.

All I could feel was the crushing, soul wrenching agony of knowing that my brother was dead and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

"I killed him. It was m-my fault. He never would've-"

"Stop. You didn't kill him. The guy who fucking shoved him out of the window did. Now shut up with that nonsense."

"No! He wouldn't have gotten into that fight if it wasn't for me!"

I finally looked at him then and all of my senses came back to me as if I had been doused in freezing ice water.

Half the lights in the gym were off and we were the only ones left inside so no one but Sawyer was around to see my breakdown, thank god.

It was dim but I could still see the black stubble crawling along his sharp jawline, making him appear rugged and dangerous and sexier than I'd ever seen him before, ergo more dangerous.

His piercing blue eyes stared me down with an intensity that made me feel like the smallest person in the world, and he was still holding onto me like his life depended on it.

"Let me go."

I missed the feel of his arms around me the second he did, and I hated myself for it.

"Come on, I'll take you to your dorm."

I didn't argue, just blindly followed in step behind him because I realized I had no more energy left. I had used it all on the damn punching bag.

He pulled sunglasses out of the pocket of his black hoodie and slid them on, donning the hood as well.

I realized with a start that his life could have been mine, once upon a time. I was supposed to be at the record label that night that Sawyer was signed, seeing as the songs they all preferred were the ones I'd written; it didn't matter if Sawyer was 'over' being my friend. He would have done whatever the label told him to do, and according to them, they wanted me to be a part of his act.

I had almost refused given the way he had treated me, but I saw it as a way for us to reconnect and become friends again, maybe even more.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

The night Sawyer was signed to his record label was the night my brother died in the ICU at our local hospital.

Apparently they weren't notified of my family emergency and cut me out of the entire deal, and when they finally did hear the news, they offered to rectify everything and give me an entirely new deal, but I had given up my piano at that point, and I wasn't about to start again just because some music executives wanted me to sing with a man that I hated, especially after my brother had died.

The beep of Sawyer's car unlocking startled me out of my thoughts and I mindlessly fell inside his beyond expensive car, wondering how nice it must be to not worry about money.

The air in the car was thick with tension and I wasn't about to be the one to break it, but then it suddenly hit me like a fire truck coming at me full speed.

I was alone in a car with the one man who I swore to loathe for the rest of my days...I was so screwed.