Heart of Ice

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Song: Come Wake Me Up- Rascal Flatts

It's one of those nights where all I can do is toss and turn. I know what it means. It's the build up to a nightmare that happens every time. I know it's only a matter of days before a big one infiltrates my mind and leaves me spiraling. That's how it has always worked.

When I finally do fall asleep, it's rudely interrupted early in the morning by a screaming match down the hall. I can't hear what the muffled voices are saying, but I know by the pitch of their voice that it's a girl and a guy. With it being so close, I know it can only be one pair, and part of me is joyous over hearing them fight, but another part of me is annoyed that the somewhat peaceful sleep I was getting has been disturbed by the same idiots who are the reason I haven't slept well for the past month in the first place.

Not bothering to open my eyes, I grab the pillow beside me and slam it over my face, wrapping the edges around my ears to drown out the noise. I just want one night where I can sleep the whole way through. Just one! It figures I can't have a second of peace in my life.

The pillow doesn't do much to bring me enough silence that I can fall asleep again, but soon, the yelling ceases as a door slams and someone's rapid steps run down the stairs. In the distance, I can hear the front door slam too, and then silence covers the house once again, and I can rest. I never do fall back asleep, but being able to close my eyes and allow the silence to envelope me for a few more hours helps my body feel more rested once I wake up after daylight.

I lag all morning as I get up, dress for training, and make my way down to the gym. The house is still silent aside from the low rumble of the TV in the living room. Once I'm settled in the gym, I begin stretching, closing my eyes to try to relax and rest a little more before training begins. I figure I'm going to be alone or dad's going to be training me after the brawl the night before, so I mentally prepare a training routine that won't end in disaster like the last one.

The gym door bangs open, and to my surprise, in walks Hunter, that familiar emotionless expression taped across his face like it has been several times lately. Also accompanying it is a faded scar on his nose where I had punched and burned him, which made me feel bad. He doesn't mention it though as he comes in and does some quick stretches. I finish stretching and stand, trying to act unbothered as I rest my hands on my hips. "Surprised you're still training me when you hate me so much now."

For a moment, his shoulders tense, but then he rolls his eyes. "It's not like your dad gave me much of a choice."

"There's always a choice, Hunter. You could choose to train me or you could choose not to train me. Just like you could choose to believe me or you could choose not to believe me. And as you apparently know, others can influence those choices."

Pain twists his face. His eyes don't meet mine. "The choice is easier when I see the truth with my own eyes."

"Bullshit. You didn't even bother to ask me first, you just blamed me."

"We're not getting into this," Hunter sighs, grabbing the boxing pads and sliding them on his hands. I push his hands down, and his eyes snap up to mine.

"Yes we are! I was here the whole time, trapped in a horrible nightmare because you went off to God knows where for two days," I yell, and this time, he doesn't look away. "Tell me, does that sound like a lie to you?"

He hesitates. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Then believe me!"

"I can't."

"Not even after everything we've been through?" Tears blur my eyes as I force myself to keep looking at him, no matter how badly it's hurting. "The last few months?"