Haley John's fingers wrap around my biceps and I freak. Completely. I jerk out of his grasp and throw back my arm, prepared to punch if he touches me again.

He tosses his hands in the air. "Easy, Haley."

"I said get away!" The words tear through my throat with such force that the chords of my voice box strain. "I can't do this! I told you I can't do this!"

The world blurs from colors to shades of gray, then back to colors again.

John nods but doesn't do what I ask. He's too near. Everyone is too near. It's like the gym is shrinking. I rip at the Velcro of the hand wrap and I need the material off now, but it won't come off. It's attached to me. Just like Matt's blood is still attached to me.

I'm stained and ruined. I hit my brother in anger and sent him to the floor. An ache develops in my chest, near my heart, and breathing becomes difficult. Why can't I get these wraps off? "Get them off!"

But when John nears me, I step back and shake my head to the point he trembles in my vision. I need the material off, I need to get away and not fight ever again. I'm evil when I fight and if John touches me, I'll hurt him, too.

"Let me do it."

I suck in a breath when West dips under the ropes. Oh, my G.o.d, he's seeing this. He's seeing me. The real me. The poseur. The fraud. The patheticness. "I don't want to hurt you."

West moves toward me with the slow, confident swagger that only he possesses. "Only way you could do that is to tell me to stay away. You know kick-a.s.s girls turn me on."

As if there was a breeze, the haze clears just enough to create a small focused thought. "I want my wraps off." I lift my palm to reveal how I've murdered the set on my left hand.

Like a thief, West slips into my personal s.p.a.ce. "I can see that. Do you mind if I give it a crack? I'm quite talented when it comes to taking clothes off of pretty girls."

I'd normally laugh because that statement is so West, but I don't. Instead, I extend my arm. West cradles my hand in both of his and slides his thumb against the exposed skin. "I'll do this slow and then we'll get out of here. Just you and me. What do you think?"

Something wet threatens the corner of my eye. Sweat maybe? I'm not sure. "Okay."

"Good." He begins to untangle the material that's knotted like necklaces shaken together in a jewelry box. "There's too many people here for my liking. I prefer to kiss you in private."

As if from a distance, someone shouts something about clearing out and I sort of recognize the voice as John's.

"Kaden hit me behind the ear," I say as if that will help him understand.

"I saw." He meets my eyes and his hands pause. "Are you hurt?"

I'm broken. "No."

Guilt rushes through me. My eyes dart until I spot Kaden, but I don't have to look far. He's beside me and Jax is next to him. How could I not have noticed? "Are you okay?"

He beats his chest twice. "Made of stone, remember? Plus it's not the first time you've taken me down. How about you, Hays? You okay?"

No. "I'm sorry." And I stop because my throat closes. I hold my breath when my eyes burn. I hit my brother. When Kaden's glove connected to my head, my mind flashed to Matt and I hit my brother. I caused him pain-on purpose. I can't fight. I shouldn't fight. "I'm sorry."

"She's shaking," says Jax.

Cold air caresses my fingers as West frees the wraps. "I'm getting her out of here."

"Not to her uncle's." John walks up next to West. "Her blood sugar's dropping. Get her something to eat and that'll help with the shock. Kaden, Jax-meet Haley at the front door of the house at midnight. She doesn't need her uncle's c.r.a.p tonight."

West slides his jacket off and tosses it around my shoulders. He shouldn't be nice to me. "I hit my brother." In anger.

West brushes his fingers against my cheek and cups my face in his palms. "It's okay."

"John," says Jax. "Maybe she should stay with us."

"I want you," I whisper to West.

"Then you'll have me. Can you walk?"

I nod, but my legs don't move. West bends over; then my feet are dangling and my body is cradled tightly to his. I rest my head on his shoulder because it's too heavy to hold and plus...I like his warmth.

"It's okay, Haley," West says as he carries me past the bags for the door. "It's okay."

West Fresh out of the shower and in a borrowed purple sweater and jeans from Rachel's room, Haley twirls the fettuccine Alfredo I heated for her onto the fork and slides it into her mouth. Dad's away on business, Mom's staying the night at the hospital and my brothers are G.o.d knows where. Long story short-we're completely alone.

Haley and I sit next to each other on the floor of my room and lean against the end of my bed. Some girl-movie Rachel's watched a million times plays on the flat screen. I put it on for Haley, hoping it would make her smile and distract her. She watches it, and, while color has returned to her cheeks, her eyes are flat and dull.

"This is a lot better than deer meat," she says.

It seems like years ago when the two of us shared a simple meal on the floor of the attic. "We have a guy who cooks a couple of times a week. Our fridge is always stocked."

She creates an H in her nearly demolished bowl of noodles. "That must be nice."

Until I was thrown out, I took it for granted. Along with a million other things. "Are we going to discuss what happened earlier?"

In midbite, Haley coughs, then forces down the swallow. "Do we have to?"

"Yeah."

"I got hit and freaked out. I guess I'm rusty."

"What did Matt do to you?"

She slams the bowl to the floor and the fork clanks. "Nothing."

Bulls.h.i.t. "You turn white every time you see him, and Jax told me you stopped fighting six months ago-the same time you broke up with Matt. Jax also told me you held a national t.i.tle. National t.i.tleholders don't walk. Matt did something and I want to know what he did."

A fire ignites in Haley-the same inferno as the night we met. "Jax needs to keep his mouth shut."

"Maybe you need to learn how to talk." And I hit the nail on the head and I'm much closer than I'd prefer. The pieces fall into place: Haley freaking about fighting, about dating a fighter, then how hard she's fighting me now. A dangerous undercurrent of anger floods my veins. "Did Matt hit you?"

"You don't get to ask me that." Haley's on her feet and across my room in seconds. I'm up after her fast and I grab her arm before she can reach the doork.n.o.b. When I turn her toward me, she jerks away, then slams her palms into my chest. "Don't touch me!"

She gasps and stares at her hands as if they're covered in blood. "Oh, G.o.d, I did it again."

I worked too hard getting her back to reality and I'm not going to let her slip away. I take her hands and plant them on my chest. "Do it again. If you need to shove me. Do it. You know I can take it."

Haley s.n.a.t.c.hes her hands back and stumbles until she smacks the door. "This is why I gave up fighting. I did something horrible and I don't want to do it again."

This is it. This is as close as I've come to being inside Haley's head and if I say something wrong, if I move the wrong way, she'll shut down and I could lose the only good thing in my life. "Do what? What don't you want to do again?"

Her fingers splay open and she holds them up in a stopping motion, but I'm not what she's battling. There's something in her brain, someone there torturing her.

"Do what?" I urge.

It's like a shadow descends and she shrinks from it. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

I've never been a praying guy, but the goose b.u.mps forming along my neck tell me something evil is attacking her soul. "You're only hurting yourself by not talking to me."

Haley breathes. One breath in. Another released. A steady movement of her chest rising and falling. Hours could have pa.s.sed as I watch her wage a war in her own mind.

"There is no answer you could give that will make me change how I feel about you."

"And if he did-" a strangled sound escapes her throat "-do it...it still doesn't make what I did right or what I did to Kaden...or how I hurt Jax and my family and my grandfather. What I did was wrong and I'm useless and I'm pathetic and..."

"You are none of those things." Anger swells up in me, directed at Matt. If I'm not careful, I'll take it out on Haley. Not wanting to hear her berate herself any longer, I bridge the distance and pull her in to me. "There is nothing you can say to change us. Nothing."

Haley's hands fist the material of my shirt. For once in our d.a.m.ned relationship she's relying on me. I rain kisses into her silky hair and rub her back.

"Nothing," I repeat.

I hold on to Haley, wishing I was twisting that son of a b.i.t.c.h's neck. He hit her and not in the sparring type of way. "What happened with Kaden?"

Haley rests her head on my shoulder and gestures to where Kaden's glove had made contact. "The hit to the head. It triggered some stuff. Do you think I'm crazy because I freaked?"

"No. I think Matt's an a.s.shole." I think Matt's a f.u.c.king dead man. "How often did it happen with Matt?"

My heart beats several times.

"Once," she whispers. "That's when I walked away."

"Jesus."

"I hit him back," she mumbles into my chest. "I made him bleed. If I showed restraint, then maybe it wouldn't have been so bad."

Every muscle in my body convulses. He's dead. He's f.u.c.king dead. The d.a.m.ned b.a.s.t.a.r.d won't walk another day. "I'm glad you hit him back."

She becomes limp in my arms. "It's funny. I spent my entire life learning how to fight and I never thought of it as hurting someone. It was a sport-the ultimate chess match-and I was good at it. When I stepped into the ring, my intentions were never to hurt. My intentions were to use my skills against another person with skills. But with Matt, I meant to hurt him and I did. Doesn't that make me as bad as him?"

I set my hands on her shoulders and move so I'm eye level to Haley. "He hit you."

She flinches with the word hit. "He hurt me."

"Hit." I flip back through our conversation and realize she's never fully admitted what he did. "He attacked you and you defended yourself. This wasn't a sparring match or a tournament. Someone you trusted failed you. That makes him an a.s.shole and you justified."

Haley cracks her neck to the side and steps from me. I allow her the s.p.a.ce, because she's heading away from the door. Her fingers brush along the top of my dresser, touching two of my watches, a cla.s.s ring and a bottle of cologne.

She a.s.sesses the room. The judgment I'd been waiting for since the first night I brought her here settles on her face. "Why are you with me? You could have anyone, yet you're with me."

"What you mean to say is that I'm rich."

"And I'm poor. I lived in a homeless shelter."

I shrug. "And I lived in my car."

"You can't understand me." She dangles the Rolex from her fingers. "It's not the same."

"No, it's not. There are things about us that are different, but don't try to make me out to be something other than what I am when I'm with you. Being with you is the only time I'm okay living in my own skin."

"Why me?" There's a taunt in her voice and she's looking to pick an argument. "Did you get tired of girls who would give you whatever you wanted and decided to go for the chase?"

"Why are you pushing me so hard?"

"I'm not," she says. But she is. She doesn't like what I said to her about Matt.

"Last night you weren't sure you wanted us. Now that I know something intimate about you are you going to do what you do best? Are you going to hole up in your head and run away?"

"You're a jerk," she spits out.

I throw out my arms. "I sure am, but at least I'm not playing dead. Are you fighting or are you running? Because this is on you. You can say whatever you want and you can push me as hard and as long as you want, but I'm not tapping out."

Haley stands by my bed, unblinking and unmoving, and because I've already tossed it all on the table, I decide to give up the last of my pride. "And so you know, I'm a virgin, Haley. I've never had s.e.x with any of those girls. You were never about the chase."

Like I've announced I have eight nipples, she clumsily sits back onto my bed. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're the girl I've been waiting for. If you want to break up, then you're going to have to do it because I won't. You're it for me, and I'm not walking away."

Haley stares at the carpet. A sad song begins to play on the television. It's the part in the movie where the couple breaks up. Eventually, they get back together. It's what happens in movies, but as Haley has reminded me time and time again, this is real life. People lose their jobs, their homes... They lose each other and in real life, the pain actually hurts.

"I'm falling for you." It was a whisper, barely audible. I heard it more with my heart than I did with my ears and it was the most beautiful sound. "I'm falling for you, but I don't want to."

She bends forward and her hair hides her face. I crouch in front of her and tuck her hair behind her ear. "I'm not Matt. Me and you, we aren't a repeat of the past."

"I know."

"No, you don't."

She nods like she understands, but the truth doesn't reflect in her eyes.

"I'm not Matt."

"I know," she whispers again.

"Then you say it."

Haley twists her fingers into her hair and barely whispers, "You're not Matt."

"Then why do you keep comparing me to him?"