His Hope [Zayn][Completed]

Chapter 19-Love

Zayn waited until everyone had gone to bed and went down to the gym. The fluorescent overhead lights already soothing an ounce of tension from him. Not a single hotel guest was around as he made a straight line for the punching bag, and began taping up his hands in the corner of the room.

Working out always soothed him. And he never needed it more than he did at that moment.

He wrapped the tape carefully around his bare hands for the perfect fit. Flexing his taped hands to make sure the binding was not too tight or loose. He started slowly, with a one-two rhythm his muscles warmed in his arms, legs and stomach as he landed rapid blows to the bag.

There was no way around what he learned. It wasn't just the photos or Colin's story that proved Hope's identity. Her blood type matched Lily's.

Hope was a married woman. Her true name, Lily.

His right hook caught the bag and sent it soaring high into the air before swinging back down.

His beautiful Hope.

She was a drug to him. Once he'd gotten a taste, he craved her with every fiber of his being. The way she looked at him with innocence and desire.

But he could not have her if it was all true.

His gut clenched.

Hitting the bag harder in rapid succession, each pounding with has fists were deeply satisfying, easing the thoughts on his mind.

Zayn shoved all his anger and energy into his punches, the slick of sweat beating down his face. Each thud pounded, echoed in his ears until all thoughts of Hope and Colin were pushed from his mind and all he saw the red blur of the bag swinging with each of his hits.

It was a good part of an hour before he began pulling the tape off. Grabbing a towel to wipe up the sweat from his face, his shirt and shorts were plastered to his body. Snatching a water from the mini-fridge, he drowned the entire thing. Crumpling the plastic bottle in the palm of his hand, he sat heavily on a nearby bench and sighed loudly, peering over at the punching bag.

He could probably work the bag for at least another couple of hours.

He had enough rage in him to last him the entire night.

An image flashed through his mind of Colin and Hope, together under one roof, sharing a bed, touching her soft body. . .

His mind blackened with rage. His jaw flexed hard and he glared burning daggers of hate at the picture in his mind.

His control was slipping faster than he could catch it.

Feeling a shaking in his arm, Zayn looked down, his hand turned into a tight, white-knuckled fist.

All his life he'd gotten everything his heart desired. Never had he come across any obstacle's. Never had any problems. His life was always structured.

For the first time in his life he had no idea what the hell to do.

It truly was a year of many firsts.

However, this was not the ending he was expecting. There was an important first in his life he did not want to end.

*****

The next morning Sammy sat on the sofa, hands twisted nervously in his lap. When she walked in, he immediately stood, a look of pity in his eyes.

"Girl, I'm gonna miss our shopping extravaganzas." He said in a high pitched lisp.

Hope smiled. "Is that all you'll miss Sammy?"

"Someone got to stop cutting onions up in this joint."