I couldn’t let the pain I was feeling be for nothing.

I threw the blankets off me and went in search of my backpack that had my laptop and school books in it, finding it sitting next to the front door. There was a small window next to the door, I pulled on the curtain subtly and took a peek outside. A bike was parked at the curb outside and a club member sitting at the bottom of our staircase, cigarette hanging from his fingers. As I thought, there was only a prospect patch across the back of his cut, they didn’t get their full patch until they were voted in as a full member.

I couldn’t tell who it was, as they had a hood pulled up over their head and I knew both Ham and Neil smoked. I sighed and let the curtain fall back into place. I knew the ins and outs of the club like I’d been born into the life. Sometimes I’d wonder whether everything in life had its purpose. Were we actually in control of our destinies, or was that something that was controlled by fate?

I loved my parents and I missed them every single fucking day, but what if they had never died? What if I’d never found the club?

I know I felt as though the club filled the void that I’d missed by not having a stable family while I was growing up, but what if it was more than that? What if the club was where I was meant to be? What if fate had wanted me to find the brothers?

I shook my head.

Fate must be a cruel bitch if she put me through all the shit in my life, killing my mom and dad, throwing me into homes where I had ‘parents’ that only cared about the paycheck I bought them every week, only to lead me here where she knew I was going to have my heart broken.

I felt ill.

I never meant to come here and fall in love. It was the last thing on my mind the night I walked into the Brothers by Blood clubhouse. I was looking for hot men and sex. Plenty of no strings attached, don’t care if I never see you again sex. What I ended up with was a home, a best friend, a man who stole my heart and a clubhouse full of guys who would lay their lives on the line for mine.

My back hit the door as I struggled against the emotions, fighting them, trying so hard not to let them consume me. I slid to the floor with a thump, a jolt of pain shooting up my spine.

It was suddenly hitting me.

Walking away had caused me to lose more than just the man I loved - I’d walked away from a family I never thought I would have again. Once again, I felt like I’d lost everything and that tunnel of darkness was slowly creeping up on me, threatening to pull me inside.

This is why I’d spent my life running.

If I didn’t get attached, then nothing could hurt me.

I ran because I was afraid.

I was scared of being happy—finally being happy—and then having it all ripped away from me all over again.

Run, don’t stop running.

The voice echoed in my head like it had many times before. My hands pulled at my hair in frustration. I should have run. I shouldn’t have stayed. I should have run. I should have listened.

I’d let Optimus in. I’d let him and the club allow me to feel safe and content. I’d fought the urge to run because I’d found a place where I could feel okay again. I’d found people who took me for me, who supported me, loved me with no expectations or agenda.

Just like a normal family would.

I’d found what I knew was my place in the world.

And now what? Now, I’d just thrown it all away because I couldn’t keep my feelings in any longer. I grabbed the item nearest to me, a pair of high heels that lay next to the door, and threw them across the room. They hit a lamp next to the sofa and it crashed to the ground.

I scrambled to my feet, my body needed some kind of release. I needed to let everything out and I was done crying. I was done feeling weak, sitting here, waiting for him to admit how he felt.

It wasn’t his fault.

It was mine.

I should have run.

I tossed my backpack across the room, the contents spilling out as it hit the floor. The crash of my computer against the hard wooden floor feeling almost satisfying. I slammed my hand against the wall and screamed, the low vibrations enough to cause my throat to hurt. It felt like sandpaper, but it felt good.

“Chelsea?” There was a banging at the door, but I ignored it, continuing to attack anything I could find.

I’d lost it.

I was breaking.

I tried to scream again, but instead it came out as a sob as I took hold of one of the dining table chairs and threw it to the ground. There was a loud bang and I jumped like I’d been shocked with a cattle prod. Boots pounded against the floor and Ham came into view looking around frantically for the source of all the noise.

“Fuck, Chel. I thought someone was in here beating the shit out of you,” he said finally as his eyes scanned my body checking for any signs that I was hurt.

I gripped the kitchen table with both hands. My legs were threatening to give way, every part of my body was telling me to give up. Everything was hitting me at once and it was almost too much. I stared at Ham, unable to even speak. I placed a hand over my mouth, trying to force down the tears that I thought were done.

Ham eyed me carefully, taking a few small steps toward me. “Hey, it’s okay.”

I took a deep breath and that’s when I felt it.

My heart broke.

I could feel it in my chest, shattering into pieces.

Some might say it was impossible. But I knew.

Ham’s hands flew out and caught me just as my body crashed. He pulled me into his chest and cradled me like a baby, rocking me back and forth and making soothing noises. “Chel, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

I gave in. I let him comfort me even as every other part of me protested, my mind screaming at me to run.

But I was tired.

I didn’t want to run anymore.

I wanted to be happy.

I could have been happy.

But now, I was just broken.

I managed to hide any damage I had created in the house from Rose. She wasn’t even aware that when she’d walked out that day that I’d had the breakdown of the century.

Ham had talked me down. He was a sweet guy, I even began to wonder why he’d joined the club since he seemed so strait-laced and from such a proper family.

Since that day, my emotions had calmed. Only a little, but they had calmed. I had even made it to class two days this week. Rose practically forced me out the door. But that was what I needed, someone telling me to wake the fuck up and move on with my life.

I sat at the kitchen table, scrolling through an article on the nutritional benefits of certain plants and vegetables. It wasn’t really my thing, more Rose’s, but it was compulsory to learn about during my degree.

I heard the click clack of heels on the wooden floor and looked up just as Rose came to the end of the hall. She looked stunning. Her hair was pulled back in a tight pony, and she had light makeup on, just enough to accentuate her already stunning features. Her dress was simple, black with a shimmer of glitter that hit right at mid-thigh and had thick straps that went over her shoulders.

“Wow, you look fabulous!” I told her, my jaw hanging open. Rose grinned and did a little twirl. I could appreciate the female body just as well as any male, and this girl had it going on. I closed the lid of my computer – it had managed to survive my temper tantrum and started gathering the mess of books and papers I had left strewn across the table. “I’m going to climb into my PJ’s and finish this in bed.”

She held up another dress on a coat hanger. It was a deep purple color with blue accents. “I don’t think they let people into nightclubs wearing pajamas,” she said with a soft, almost unsure smile. I stared at her confused. “I figure our night, the other night, got cut short. We really didn’t get to have much fun. Keen to have another try?” She shifted from leg to leg, I could tell she was nervous and unsure of what my answer would be.