Losing Control : His Madness, His Cure Chapter 205

I go back to work after that. The sun’s pressing down on me like it wants to see what I’m made of. I keep my head down and focus on the rhythm....wire tightening, wood creaking, boots crunching against dirt.

Then my phone buzzes in my pocket. I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and pull it out. It’s Xander.

*Miss you.*

Two words. That’s all it takes. The smallest damn thing, but it hits deep. I stare at it for a second, and something in me softens.

Then another message pops up.

*You’re leaving early, right? So we can see each other before I go?*

Before I go......that makes my chest tighten. My heart does this dumb little stutter I wish I could control. He’s leaving. I know it’s just for the weekend. I know he’ll be back Sunday night. But still, it messes with me.

I’ve been calling him a lot lately. More than I should. And it’s not just to hear his voice. It’s to make sure he’s okay. To make sure he’s still there. It’s like my brain doesn’t trust the world to keep him safe unless I check in myself. And the ugly part is it keeps whispering that something could happen to him before he gets back. That maybe he won’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s exhausting. And it’s fucking constant.

I type back, *Miss you too. And yeah, I'll leave early.* Then I shove my phone into my pocket, except it starts ringing again.

I pull it out, already smiling, thinking it’s him. But the name flashing on the screen kills the smile instantly.

Kieran.

For a second, I almost let it ring out. I’ve done that more times than I can count. But I don’t this time. I don’t even know why. I just exhale, swipe the screen, and bring it to my ear.

“Hello.”

There’s a pause, then a low laugh. “Holy shit. You actually answered. I was sure you’d just watch it ring like always.”

I huff a small sound that could be a laugh if you squint at it. “Must be your lucky day.”

It’s been months since we last talked, but it doesn’t feel like it. With Kieran, time doesn’t really matter, he always picks up like nothing’s changed. I’m expecting the usual....the small talk, him asking if I’m okay, me lying and saying I am.

But instead, he says, “I’m with Nate.”

That catches me off guard.

He goes on, “He called me. Said he’s in some deep shit.”

I stare out over the fence, the heat blurring the far end of the field. “Oh.”

“He mentioned he got you into a bit of trouble.”

“It’s fine.”

There’s a beat, then Kieran sighs, the sound rough and tired. “ Sorry about that. He’s an idiot, you know that. Not all there in the head, that one.”

That actually makes me chuckle. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

He laughs softly. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about those shitheads coming back. I took care of it.”

That makes me pause, my grip tightening on the fence post. I almost ask how, but I stop myself. This is Kieran Risk. If he says he took care of it, I probably don’t want to know what that means.

He sounds the same though.....sharp, controlled, with that thread of darkness always sitting just beneath his tone. Then, after a long stretch of silence, he clears his throat and says, awkwardly, “Nate mentioned you’re seeing someone.”

My stomach flips.

“But,” Kieran adds, almost teasing, “I told him I wouldn’t believe it until I heard it from you.”

For a second, I don’t say anything. Then I swallow and say quietly, “Yeah. It’s true.”

There’s a low whistle on the other end. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

We're both quiet for a while. There’s just that low hum of static between us, like the silence is giving us both time to think. Then Kieran finally says, “That’s nice, man. Real nice. I’m glad.”

It’s quiet again before he chuckles, all teasing. “Still....how the hell did you manage to snag someone before I did?”

I scoff under my breath. “Yeah, I don’t know either.”

I get what he means though. Kieran’s good-looking, always has been. He’s never been modest about it either. He soaked up all the attention that face got him.

I lean against the fence, wiping the sweat off my forehead with my wrist. “Where are you these days anyway?”

He exhales a short laugh. “Currently stuck in some beat-up town out in Nebraska. Real glamorous.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Oh, I'm having the time of my life,” he says dryly. “Nothing like a town with one diner, two bars, and a church that doubles as a bingo hall. Living the dream.”

I shake my head, smiling faintly despite myself.

“It’s fine though,” he goes on. “We’ll be moving on in a couple of days. Just got some business to wrap up here.”

I know better than to ask what kind. Whatever business he’s talking about, it sure as hell isn’t legal. It never is with those three. He clears his throat, the sound rough and familiar through the line. “Nate said you seemed pretty good.... happy.”

I hum in response.

“That’s good,” he says softly. “You deserve that. So embrace the joy, yeah? Kiss it, fuck it, make it beg to stay.”

I scoff. “You’re a poet.”

“Dead serious,” his voice dips a little, losing the sarcasm. “You’re owed that, Jax. All of it. More than most.”

My throat tightens, but I don’t say anything.

“Anyway,” he adds after a moment, his tone light again, “if I’m ever in town, I’ll ring you up. And if by the grace of the gods you actually answer, we’ll grab a drink.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, because that’s what we do. We plan meetings that will never happen. Same as it’s always been with all of them.

Kieran laughs under his breath. “Tell the boyfriend I said hi. Nate says he’s hot as fuck.”

That actually pulls a genuine laugh out of me. Short but real. “Yeah, I’ll pass that along.”

“Do that,” he says. “Alright, I gotta go make some bad choices. Bye Jax.”

“Bye.”

The line clicks, and he’s gone.

The quiet that follows is thick. Heavy. I slide the phone back into my pocket and just stand there, staring at the fields. I can feel the weight of that remark still hanging in my head..... that I’m owed happiness. That I should claim it.

I walk over to a rock by the fence and sit down, elbows on my knees. The wind’s hot, dry against my skin, and for a second it feels like it’s burning through me, like maybe it knows what’s rotting underneath.

I don’t get why I’m feeling all this shit. All these twisted, heavy things that make no sense but drag me under anyway. I hate it. I fucking hate it!

And Kieran’s right.... I am owed. This stupid world owes me. It can’t give me something as precious, as real as Xander, and then turn around and torment me with the kind of thoughts that tear me apart. That’s just cruel.

I dig both hands into my hair until my scalp aches.

I don’t wanna go back to The Pit.

I really don’t wanna need it.

But it’s like a sickness that won’t leave. Every time I go, I walk out missing another piece of myself. That place just takes and takes, and I keep going back, thinking maybe I’ll find what I lost, and instead, it digs deeper, eats more.

I pull out my phone, stare at the screen like it might offer something. Then I open that photo..... Xander’s smiling, eyes lit up, alive in a way I've never known how to be. He’s real. He loves me, God knows why, but he genuinely does. And I can’t even give him everything because I’m still bleeding inside.

My hands are shaking now. I glance at the picture again, and something in my throat aches. Then, before I can stop myself, before I lose my nerve, I open the browser and type....

*“Does therapy actually help?”*

And I just stare at the blinking cursor. Because scary as it is, I want to believe the answer might be yes.