#Chapter 58: Fraying Edges

It was hard to leave his room after that last night, harder than I wanted to admit. We never even talked about it again. I threw myself into work like it was the only thing keeping me breathing. Each morning I volunteered for the harshest drills, the longest guard rotations, anything that would leave my muscles screaming and my brain too fried to think about him. I practiced hand drills until my fingers blistered and bled, cleaned the armory twice over, ran logistics until the numbers blurred on the page. The recruits learned to steer clear of me when I was shouting orders, my voice cracking with rage I wouldn't aim at anyone but myself. Richard did the same. He trained until sweat soaked his clothes, his hair plastered to his forehead. He fought with such ferocity that even Nathan looked rattled afterward, the two of them bloody-knuckled and silent. I watched from a distance, my breath short. When our eyes locked it was like striking flint to steel, too hot, too dangerous. I'd tu