Tobias: Book One of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Forty-Seven

Shivers of cold, hard sweat racked Tobias's spine with every raise of the glinting axe, the tool's head glinting from the snowy expanse outside of the shed. He chopped, and he hacked, and he cut, not stopping until his entire body felt like all of its muscles were being torn apart. Setting the axe down, he gasped in breath after tortured breath, trying to focus on only the physical pain.

“Fuck!” he screamed until his body collapsed, and he crumpled onto the cold ground.

Shirtless and dressed only in a pair of ratty shorts, Tobias made sure to let the splintered wood dig into his already damaged skin, just lying on the ground and trying not to think about her. She was probably getting for work at the moment, making sure to sweep up her thick curls into a tight knot. Little tendrils would be framing her face, a light flush to her cheeks from the previous shower.

He checked his watch. At 7:24 in the morning, she would most definitely already be up, maybe even already having arrived at Brad's Diner for her Friday routine cup of coffee. Body aching to drive the short distance to that small diner, Tobias repressed the urge and tried to clear his mind of her. Like all of the other times he had attempted the menial task, it didn't work.

Just don't think her name. Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't-

“Jane,” Tobias gasped, clenching his thoroughly bruised stomach.

He didn't know what hurt worse, his beaten body or the way everything inside of him felt like somebody or something was repeatedly stabbing and kicking him. Tears streamed down his face, reminding Tobias how much of a weakling he still was. Retching everything he had onto the cold ground, he tried to forget, failing once again like so many times before.

The image of his beautiful, brunette physical therapist laying in front of him as he spoke those three, damning words entered his vision until it was all he could see. Despite the fact that the incident had happened exactly thirty-one days ago, he remembered the incident perfectly. Jane had started sobbing, and then she had left.

It had been simple, more than simple really. One second she was there, and then she was gone; off to find a new lover, one who would be able to please her better than he had. Of course he wasn't good enough for her. He had always known it, but it hadn't mattered then. Nothing had mattered then. It was only her and him out to face everything together.

And now he had to face everything alone.

Every night that he went to bed, he became death itself, always reminded of the fact that he was alone. No matter how many blankets Tobias covered himself with, an internal chill kept him awake until ungodly hours of the morning. Every, single night, he imagined Jane reaching for him in her sleep like she always had, but he could no longer do anything about it.

It was over, and Tobias knew for a fact that he would never fully recover; but Jane would, and for that, he found a little tingle of hope.

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday. Sitting on her porch, he had opened up his partially frozen eyelids, a little perplexed as to why Jane was in an unfamiliar car. Sleek and silver, it had practically been twinkling against the snowy backdrop. A tall man had been sitting beside her, and then Jane had leaned across the car.

Long, skinny fingers had tangled into her hair, each one of those appendages another arrow to his heart. When they had finally broken apart and Jane had stepped out of the car, Tobias had recognized Dr. Froid as the driver. He had wanted to shout, had wanted to scream with all his pent-up fury; but instead had just removed the last true piece of himself and given it to her.

Now, he was here, walking back into the house to get ready for work. Rex pawed at him once again, and Tobias quickly fed him before taking a long, cold shower, wincing every now and then with every bend and twist he forced his battered body to do.