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Chase throws his head back on a laugh, glancing my way with a grin. “That’s oddly specific.”
“My imagination is pretty thorough.”
Shaking his head, he steps inside first, and I stick close behind.
Thankfully, it’s not so terrifying once we enter. There are actual lights on the inside, but the small vacant desk that comes into view is kind of concerning.
My steps slow, but then low voices reach us, and I look to the far right to find a few people kicking back on a sofa pushed up against the wall.
They look up as we enter and smile.
“Hey, welcome to Riot and Rage,” the guy says as the girl climbs to her feet.
“You guys come to let off some steam?” she asks.
I look to Chase, who grins from me to her. “Yup. For two, please.”
“You got it.”
Ten minutes and a scary release of liability form later, we’re standing in the center of a giant room wearing goggles, gloves, and coveralls so long I had to roll mine four times.
A bat hangs from my hands, and a crowbar hangs from his.
There are random doors and mismatched lamps sitting atop hideous end tables. Mirrors hang in a mess of discoordination from one wall to the next, and there’s an ancient flat-screen sitting in the center, just right there on the hard floor.
“So…” I draw out, tucking the bat to my chest. “What now?”
Chase smiles, then turns, bringing the crowbar down on an old fax machine.
I yelp as little plastic pieces fly every which way, my jaw dropping with a laugh a moment later. “What the…”
“Did you think we were coming in here to decorate?” he teases, spinning and taking out a lamp. He moves silently from item to item, a shadow falling over his features as he goes.
I glance around the space, unease settling in my gut.
A loud groan escapes Chase, so I peek behind me, finding him heaving over a broken picture frame, the random couple’s smiles purposely scratched out, and it clicks.
This place, it’s set up for very specific reasons, filled with all the things that can morph in your mind into exactly what you need them to…the object of your inner issue, daring you to destroy it.
To take it by the horns and snap it right off the bull’s head.
I turn, my eyes immediately going to a long mirror on the wall opposite me.
It’s wide and framed in cheap plastic, smudges of who knows what decorating the center. I walk closer, my hands shaking as I pause directly in front of it.
My eyes lift, catching on the girl on the other side.
She’s…broken and weak. A screwup. Fat by other people’s terms.
She’s everything her mother said she’d be…
My jaw clenches, and I close my eyes, tension radiating through my every pore.
A warm hand brushes against my back, and my eyes fly open, meeting a pair of green ones in the mirror. After a moment, Chase nods and steps back.
It takes me a second to mentally check out or maybe check back in, I don’t know, and face my reflection.
I’m not cowering in a corner, begging for someone’s approval.
