Fighting for Dominance

Mia Bella

"Fae, he's messed up."

That sentence was the first and only thing I could think of when I awoke the next morning. I hadn't exactly gotten to where I'd trusted Javier, considering his terrible temper and simple arrogance, but had still been thrown off when Jasper said those four words.

Messed up. There were many different views on that phrase. Some people think murder is messed up, while others think eating your string cheese without tearing each individual strand of cheese is messed up.

Honestly, the latter is pretty freaking messed up.

To say Javier is messed up is an understatement. The man's mood had less balance than a drunk on stilts.

With a broken leg.

What bothered me though, was the fact that as Jasper said it, he looked cautious.

And that was exactly what you had to be around Javier: cautious.

But to be afraid of your own brother? To have to warn people about your own flesh and blood? That was messed up.

I couldn't ignore what he's said. In the one day of knowing Jasper, I couldn't help but trust him on this, because I had had my own warnings and observations as well.

Ignoring them longer than I already have would just be childish. I kept telling myself he would leave soon. All I had to do was be polite when needed, and steer clear for any excess time.

Easy, this should be easy.

The house was silent as only three of us were here. I looked over to the clock at my bedside to see that I had been lost in thought for over an hour. 7:08 AM.

I hadn't worked out in a few days, so I forced myself up and put on some running shorts and a light, fitted windbreaker and sports bra.

After thing my shoes, I went downstairs to find the house completely empty.

I grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and walked outside to the woodsy area near our house. I started sprinting up the narrow path and played my music.

Running had always been a good way to escape and clear my head. As a kid, I would follow this trail and run until I didn't know where I was anymore. One time, I had to stay outside until my grandparents found me. I could have called, but I remember being too stubborn since they had been the reason I needed to clear my head.

That was the day Grandmother had told me that I was just like my father: a rebellious fool that my mother made a huge mistake of marrying.

My grandmother didn't know the difference between living and surviving. To her, like was cocktail parties and expensive dresses and perfect aesthetics.

Grandfather says that she used to be just like me, if not worse.

That was honestly the equivalent of saying Javier had a vagina. Impossible.

I crossed a small bridge that meant I had ran a little over a mile and a half, and sped up. The sun was peering through the trees along the path, lighting the way as it encouraging me to keep going.

My thoughts eventually disappeared and all I needed to think about was putting one foot in front of the other.

I stopped at about three and a half miles and took a long drink of my water.

I wiped the sweat off of my forehead and started heading back.

I looked to the side and something I had somehow missed before caught my eye. I jogged over toward a small cave and was instantly reminded of Javier's spot. How he had calmed me down and we actually had a normal time together.