There better be nothing biting you except me.
Bolt upright in bed, I pant, my palm instinctively feeling my chest. There’s no hole, no blood, no bullet. My nightdress is soaked, my hair stuck to the back of my neck. Glancing around the dark bedroom, I realise I’m alone, I’m safe. My shoulders stop heaving as my diaphragm regains control, expanding and contracting with my lungs in a regular pattern.
Retrieving my phone from under the pillow, I learn it’s after five in the morning. There’s little chance of me going back to sleep and I’m not sure I can face it. I take myself to the bathroom and splash cold water over my face and in my dry mouth.Then I find my gym clothes in my section of the walk-in; we really are going to have to do something about expanding my space if I stay here. Clad in Lycra, I slot my phone around my arm in a holster and traipse to the gym room.
The cross-trainer and treadmill feel a little ambitious in light of my lack of sleep, so I opt for the spin bike; at least I can warm up a little first. Ne-Yo’s ‘Closer’ fills my ears and my legs begin to find life. Ten tracks into my workout playlist, my legs are most definitely awake, sprinting to the chorus of each track and keeping a steady pace to the verses. A bead of sweat tickles my face as it rolls to the end of my nose. I’m happily too tired to think about anything other than turning my legs to the beat in my ears.
When I hit sixty minutes, I climb down from the bike and cross my foot over my opposite knee, bending to stretch out my glutes.
‘Couldn’t sleep?’
Jackson stands in the doorway dressed in sports shorts and a vest.
I wipe the back of my hand across my brow to mop up the influx of sweat. ‘Not the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had,’ I admit, switching legs to stretch the other side.
He flicks his head to the lat pulldown machine on the non-mirrored side of the gym. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’
‘Not at all.’ I finish my leg stretches and lie down on the spongy gym flooring to do some bums and tums.
Jackson grunts on each yank down of the bar. After his set of ten, he smacks a fist into the punch bag that’s suspended from the ceiling by a metal frame. His lats look fierce.
‘How’s the leg?’ I ask, making my way over to him.
He looks at his injured thigh with pursed lips. ‘I’ll let you know later. I’m going to try some exercise on it today.’
‘Jackson, I was wondering if you would teach me some stuff. Just some punches, that kind of thing, on the bag.’
Jackson eyes the bag, then me.
‘I’d just feel better if I knew how to defend myself a little.’
He nods twice, then shakes his head. ‘He’ll never let anything come near you again, trust me.’
I sigh. ‘I appreciate that he thinks he can control everything, Jackson, but there are some things he can’t stop. We’ve seen that. I know Pearson’s gone. I knowthat’sover. But I’d just feel better.’
‘Come on then. Show me your fist,’ he says, standing on the opposite side of the punch bag to me, holding it still.
I clench my fist and hold it up.
‘You’ll break your knuckles if you punch like that, kid. You do it like this.’ He demonstrates, forming his own fist, then takes my attempt and adjusts my thumb position. ‘That’s better.’ He resumes holding the punch bag. ‘Let’s try a hook. You need to swing from your shoulder, that’s where you’ll get the power.’
I swing my hardest punch at the bag. Jackson holds it still.
‘Lift your elbow a little and punch through the bag, not at it. Carry your arm right through the impact.’
‘Like this?’ I throw my hook at the bag, shaking my fingers after the impact to stop the sting.
‘Atta girl! Nice hook! D’you want to wear the gloves?’
I nod quickly with a giggle. ‘Yes, please.’
My cardiovascular system has had a serious workout by the time we finish. I collapse in a heap on the spongy floor with Jackson looking on, laughing. My face feels like the savannah in the heart of summer. Even if I had the strength to do it, I don’t ever want to move again but a hand pulls my arm, forcing me to stand on my jelly legs.
‘You need to stretch those arms and your back.’
‘Jackson, I can’t. I can’t breathe.’
He laughs but lifts my arm across my chest. ‘Stretch.’
