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.
Battered, he mused to himself, lightly tracing the bruising patterns that covered every inch of his torso, arms, and part of his face.
Purple now turned to a lighter shade and even green concealed his normal skin color. He could thank the countless number of men from the previous weeks for that. Each and every one of them had been built, scars criss crossing all over the skin, just begging for a fight. So, Tobias had given them what they had been clearly looking for. It had been easy; all he had had to do was bump shoulders with them a couple of times and before he knew it, a large fist would be planted in his gut.
Tobias lived for that pain now, for it was all that clouded his mind, all that helped make him the empty man he now was. He didn't feel anything anymore. No remorse, empathy, or sympathy, only the occasional breakdown like the one that had just preceded.
The man staring back at him was no longer a man anymore – rather some type of humanoid monster that was slowly consuming his very self. Each and every time he thought about Jane, that monster would come out and help him push down all of those terrible, terrible feelings into an imaginary box that he kept under lock and key now.
That was who he was now, and he didn't think anything could change that.
***
“Hey, Tobias,” Nathan called from the other side of the cement foundation they had just recently poured in. “Me and a few of the fellas are goin' out for some celebratory drinks tonight. It's my birthday, so...you wanna?”
Mac slapped the younger man over his broad head. "Nathan, you know Tobias don't drink none. Aint' that right, Tob-”
“Nah." Tobias shrugged. He wasn't the alcoholic in the family, and it was about time he sunk into that final, depressant-caused oblivion. Thrane could go to hell for all he cared. “Now's a good a time as any to get fucked.”
“Somethin' wrong?” Mac asked, walking towards him.
Snow invaded the inside of his jacket, flakes getting caught in his eyelashes and hair. They had been working nonstop for about nine hours now, all of them having decided to make their shifts twelve hours instead of the original eight. He needed the work to keep his mind off things, and they needed him.
He shook his head. "Nah, just need a drink. Haven't had a decent beer in over five years.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Peter cried happily before jumping into his own truck and most likely kicking up the heat. “Where to, Nathan?”
Nathan quickly rattled off the directions to The Raccoon Cage before offering everybody a ride over there. Declining the kind gesture, Tobias made his way over to his own truck and tailed Nathan along the endless roads. From what he had heard about the old bar before, it was way off in the country, a place where he could do whatever he pleased and maybe – hopefully – start another another little commotion.
On the way there, the Power button all but called his name, making him remember all of the times he and Jane had sang along to the classic rock stations. He resisted the urge, knowing it would just bring out more sorrow and distress – two things that he didn't need right now. No, what he needed was the pain that only a hard blow could bring. He craved it.
Tobias's thoughts blurred with each turn of the steering wheel until finally, they had arrived at the infamous Raccoon Cage. The building itself was exquisitely designed, showing the owner's eye for craftsmanship and detail. Made out of glazed oak wood and twice the size of his house, the bar was impressive, especially when one were to focus on the blemish free wooden columns surrounding the large porch area.
Raccoon Cage, the neon sign flashed brightly in the night, mesmerizing Tobias with its green and red lights. Strutting around in high heels and extremely short skirts, a few voluptuous women could be seen through the crusty windows, but Tobias paid them no attention. They weren't Jane, making all thoughts of attraction come to an abrupt halt.
“Tobias,” Mac's muffled voice called him through the frosted over window, and he immediately complied by hopping out and walking with the three other men into the raucous atmosphere.
Checkered tablecloths, high heeled cowboy boots, tanned legs, dusty windowsills, and scuffed floors defined The Raccoon Cage as a rough'n'tough kind of place. Leather jacket-covered bikers hovered all around the polished bar, all but violating the women with their greedy eyes. But one man caught his eye. Thick chested and wearing an Ed Hardy t-shirt that just screamed Hey, look at me. I'm a douchebag, a tall man with long, blonde hair was hovering over a young girl who couldn't have been a day over twenty-one.
“Mikkeller. Heavy black,” he instructed the bartender, needing to feel numb like never before.
A dark brown bottle was slid over to him then, and he quickly snatched it up as he clinked the bottle's neck with Nathan's, Mac's, and Peter's right before raising it to his lips. The dark mouth stared into him, swirling his thoughts until all he could think about was why he was here.
“Why?” Tobias whispered an unheard question to Jane before taking a slug of the bitter liquid.
Burning his throat and creating an unpleasant trail to the pit of his stomach, the Mikkeller was immediately set down onto the bar. Never again, Tobias yelled at himself for being so weak. He and Titus had promised Thrane to never drink again, and now he had just broken that promise.
“I'll,” he stuttered for a minute, “I'll be right back. I just...need to make a c-call.”
The rest of his crew nodded just as Tobias took out his cell and walked out into the cold night air. Dialing Thrane's number, he sat down on the front steps and waited for a few, heart stopping seconds.
“'Lo?” his third oldest brother replied groggily.
“Thrane,” Tobias pleaded, hating how his voice cracked, “I'm so sorry. I just-”
Always one for semantics and heartfelt greetings, Thrane replied, “Stop apologizing, you fuckin' pussy. What's wrong?”
“I-I lost Jane, and now I'm l-lost.”
“You lost Jane? What are you doin'? Playin' fucking hide-and-seek? My God, Tobias, grab your fuckin' balls and do something about it. And if I ever hear you saying sorry to me again, I will personally come down there and kick your whining ass.”
“But I almost drank for God's sake! After everything that I promised you, I almost-”
“No,” Thrane snapped. "Do not bring that up. More than ten years sober, Tobias. Do not ruin that streak for me." His brother's voice was consoling. "Now, tell me what happened.”
Rattling off all of the details – both explicit and completely too personal – Tobias soon found himself drowning in despair's deep, dark ocean. Despite the fact that he told Thrane everything, that little, locked box inside of him was sealed tightly shut, making him feel like he was being suffocated.
“Because she has to protect you? My God, little brotha, I didn't know you were that much of a wuss.”
“You don't think I'm trying? 'Cause I've been trying, Thrane! I've been trying to get over her for the past month now, but it isn't as easy as your little, one night fucks! I actually love her, Thrane. I fuckin' love her, and she doesn't love me back.”
“And what have I always told you?”
“I don't really-”
“We always get through the tough times, Tobias. Now, go distract yourself. She'll come back to you,” and with that, the call was ended, leaving static to fill the dull void.
Wiping away the God awful tears, Tobias straightened himself out a little bit before walking back into the bar, directly towards Mr. Douchebag. He picked up his beer bottle from the bar, smiling in delight as the frothy liquid soon covered every inch of the arrogant ass's head.
Here goes nothing.