All the licks had connected to a part of my body, from my blocks or him getting through, as I attempted, but failed, to calm him down.
The punch combinations I could take, but the slap made my rage rise beyond my control. It was what our father made us do to each other when we were younger. The slap was the equivalent of him calling me a weak little bitch.
We ran into each other like two rams, keyed up for a knockdown drag out. Fists went flying as our bodies went staggering, and furniture was destroyed as we expelled our anger on each other’s bodies.
Fueled by rage, I didn’t snap back into a semblance of myself until we had been ripped apart from each other. Two of the guards restrained me, and two kept a tight hold on Arjen. Our fuel-soaked anger and heaving breaths filled the space. There was no sense of how long we had been going at it, but the study was destroyed.
Seeing blood drip from his lip and leaking from the cut over his eye conveyed that he had done as much damage to me. I had fucked up in so many ways with Arjen that each heaving breath I now inhaled hurt, sending stabbing pain into my heart. How was I going to fix this? Could it be fixed? We stood glaring at each other, his eyes red and filled with fire.
I didn’t hold back as I allowed the guilt and hurt of my actions to seep out of my eyes. I allowed the burning wetness to ease to the surface. It was the only way he would see how miserable I truly was over what I had done.
Arjen was the only person in the world that had given a damn about me, and I had hurt him in the worst way by betraying his loyalty and his trust in me. I had allowed myself to believe he would take the sting lightly as he was engaged in an arrangement and not a relationship built on a caring foundation. I was wrong.
Were we going to recover from this or had I destroyed my relationship with my brother?