Mine (James POV)

I don’t know what I was thinking bringing Rosa to Blackwood.

I’ve not been able to return outside of the day I left the hospital. The wound still feels as fresh as it was all those years ago. My sleep has been plagued with tiny flashes of what happened that day, but nothing that will actually help me.

Each night I’ve woken up covered in a cool layer of sweat, picking apart each nightmare in hopes that I’ll come up with something, but it’s been fruitless and left me in a sour mood.

Putting distance between Rosalind and I has been necessary because she doesn’t deserve to put up with my shitty attitude.

I came down to my gym for the fourth day in a row, pounding my fists against the punching bag. I didn’t bother wrapping them today. The pain was a welcome change to the building frustrating that I felt surging through my body.

The muscles in my arms glistened with sweat as I pushed my body to its breaking point. I needed the distraction.

My phone buzzed on the weight bench, flashing with