Chapter 377

Remy was in a piss-poor mood, had been since the night of the Christmas party and everything that had gone down with Tatum. He bit off the head of anyone foolish enough to ask if he was okay. He'd been eating lunch by himself, and overall had been a miserable fucking loner. Even right now, while everyone else was partying their asses off, his big date was being in the gym and beating the ever-loving shit out of a heavy bag. It was the only thing that seemed to calm him the last few days.

Hearing his fists connect with the bag felt good, even if it was muted by the gloves he wore. His arms burned, his shoulders and back ached, his chest heaved, and sweat poured down his forehead and into his eyes; making them sting. The sting felt good though, because it distracted him from the guilt he felt for the way he'd treated Tatum. And that guilt was pressing down on him like he was trapped under a thousand-pound boulder.

He'd felt every emotion on the spectrum since she'd walked out on him