Finding Me (The Bad Boy Series)

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Authors: S.K. Hartley
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the words that fell from those beautiful lips winded me like a punch to the gut, pulling right back to where I was.   
    'I need to keep you safe, from me.'  
    My legs suddenly felt like lead, weighing me down on the spot and stopping the fierce run I had thrown myself into. I panted hard, my hands resting on my knees as I bent over, trying to suck in all the air that my lungs desperately craved.  
    "Fuck," I whispered with every hard breath passed my lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"  
    What have I done?  
    I just wanted the ground to swallow me up. I couldn’t believe I just walked out and left her there. Jesus, I can’t fucking breathe. I took every gulp of air that I could force down into my lungs as I stood up straight, noticing people staring.
    “What?!” I spat.
    No one said a word, they just turned around and carried on with their lives. Fuck, I needed to get out of here. I needed room to breathe. I forced myself into another run, it’s going to hurt like hell in the morning but I deserved the pain. I left the woman I love in a fucking hospital bed, battered and bruised after being attacked only twenty-four hours ago. What the fuck.
    I ran hard, hard enough to make me sweat and my legs burn. I didn’t know where I was running to, but where ever it was I just hoped it helps me breathe. The lump permanently lodged in my throat was restricting the air I so desperately needed.
    Three miles, six hundred and thirty-three steps, one broken fucking heart. I ran three miles to just try and breathe, and before I knew it, I’m at my mom’s house. It’s the same porch, the same white house, the same memories.
    I registered opening the door with my key, walking in and falling to my knees in the hallway. And I still couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe? I suddenly hear footsteps running towards me, but I couldn't muster the energy to look up.
    “Logan? Logan. Oh, baby boy, what’s wrong?”
    “Mom?” I whispered.
    She wasn't supposed to be here, she's been on a business trip for the last three months. Why is she here? Oh god, I can’t fucking breathe!
    “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, crouching down beside me and pulling me to her.
    “I … I, left her,” I stuttered.
    Only she would understand just how hard those three words were for me to speak. I made a promise a long time ago. To protect my family, my friends, my love. Just so they weren't torn apart the way my dad had done to my mother, like what that motherfucker did to Neva's family. I swore blind I would protect them. Now I was on my knees on the floor of my mom's hallway, not keeping my promise. But running away from it.
    Her palms rested on my cheeks as she pulled my face up so I could see her. Her brown and green eyes held the resemblance to my own. There were tears in her eyes, but I didn’t have the energy to wipe away the tears that had already fallen onto her face.
    “Oh, darlin’. Come on, let’s get you onto the sofa,” said softly.
    “I don’t think I can move,” I whispered.
    My muscles were starting to seize, I had thrown myself straight into a run and stopped without warming down. My heartbeat pounded so damn fast that I was sure my heart was going to jump out of my freaking throat.
    “Come on, sweetie.”
    She gently placed my arm over her shoulder and holds my weight as if I were a child again, walking me over to the sofa and gently laying me down. She lingered for a moment before draping an old blanket over my body. Giving me a small smile, she turned out the light and quietly left the room.
    She didn't ask me if I was okay. I am glad she didn't. She knew as well as I did that I will never be okay when Neva is hurting.
    Exhaustion took me quickly, my muscles screamed out in agony as I tried to let my weight fall into the sofa. I didn't remember falling asleep, but the memory of what I had done was forever imprinted into my mind.
    The sun peered through the curtains, waking me from my restless sleep. I had

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