His chuckle was deep and when he grinned, she could just see the makings of a dimple hidden beneath the beard that covered his cheeks.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked then, rolling on his spine so that he was sitting up straight in his seat. He pulled his legs from where he had stretched them out under the table as he leaned his forearms on the tabletop.
“Yes,” she said, holding her hand out to show the trembling had subsided. “Thank you. I should be fine to get home now.”
“And you’re sure I can’t drive you?” he asked again, those honey brown eyes searching hers.
Roxy smiled but shook her head, focusing on keeping her voice steady even as the anxiety of being seen made her chest tighten. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Thank you, Travis. I made you miss enough of your workout as it is.” She pushed herself up from the seat, grateful her legs didn’t wobble. She doubted he would let her leave alone if they had.
Travis leaned under the table to pick up both of their bags by the straps, then stood, easily swinging the duffel bags over one of his shoulders. He motioned for her to walk ahead of him, and she was acutely aware of him following her to the door, then out onto the sidewalk. The sun had set, the sky darkening on the horizon. Light poles along the street cast pools of light beneath them, the shadows between them growing darker.
Roxy extended her hand, and he slid her duffel down his arm and handed it to her. She reached into her sweatshirt pocket and pulled out her car keys, hitting the fob to unlock her doors. The headlights flashed, several parked cars down, and they walked silently toward it.
“Thank you again,” she said as she opened the passenger door, setting the duffel inside before closing the door and stepping back up onto the sidewalk at the front of the vehicle. He stepped forward as she did, leaning out to open the driver’s side door for her. She climbed in, rolling the window down several inches after he shut the door gently, then tapped the roof of her car. “See you.”
He nodded, his eyes sweeping over her once more, and then he turned and walked away. Lights flashed several cars back the opposite direction, and then he disappeared from her sight as she backed out of her parking spot.
Five
There was something cathartic about hitting something as hard as physically possible. Feeling the give of whatever surface it was; be it flesh, leather, rubber. The ache and burn of muscles being pushed to their limits. The throbbing in the hands and knuckles with the force of each hit.
Music blasted through the Bluetooth earbuds in his ears, drowning out everything else around him. The nightmares were back, just like he always knew they wouldn’t stay away. Not for good, anyway. The only thing that helped was this… or an illegal, underground cage fight, but he’d given those up a while ago. Wouldn’t even know where to find one nowadays.
He blamed the time of year, that date on the calendar that he hated with every ounce of his soul. The nightmares always got worse as that date drew nearer. Waking drenched in sweat, bedsheets twisted around his body, reminders of his failure. That he’d been too scared, too weak… too late.
Panting heavily, he let his hands drop to his sides, sweat dripping down his face and neck, slicking his back and shoulders. He’d pushed himself, probably too hard, but he didn’t care. His knuckles ached and would be bruised after this workout, but he’d take it as his penance.
The gym was quiet, only a handful of regulars taking up machines. Blondie and Red had been in and left already, he’d seen her flash of red curls from across the room. She had not sought him out, and for that he had been grateful. He knew his mind was in a dark place. That was why he’d stationed himself in the farthest corner away from others, put on his music, and just prayed that he was left alone. He had been thankful that the few glances he took toward her, she appeared to be feeling better than the last time he’d seen her, when she’d passed out. He couldn’t seem to keep his gaze from sweeping toward her though, watching for any signs of a repeat incident. His jaw clenched every time he caught himself glancing toward her, annoyance at himself tightening his chest.
He didn’t like playing the hero to damsels in distress. Because he would never see himself as a hero, not whenhewas the monster that lurked in the shadows most of the time.
Walking across the mat to the bench along the far wall, he picked up his water bottle and drank half of it in one pull before capping it. He performed a short routine of stretches and then sank onto the bench as he brought one wrist to his mouth, using his teeth to tear at the tape.
Sneaker clad feet appeared in his line of vision and he reached up to tap at the earbud in his ear, silencing the loud music, but he didn’t look up from what he was doing. He waited, but as usual, Merv didn’t waste time.
“You need a change.”
Travis raised his eyes, cutting away from the tape he was unfurling from around his left hand toward the man that had walked up to him. He shrugged his shoulders, noncommitting. Merv harrumphed something unintelligible as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“You’re unsettled,” he observed gruffly.
“I’m perfectly settled, old man. Maybe you should get your eyes checked, because I’m fine,” Travis grunted crossly.
Merv shifted in stance. “Twenty years, Travis.”
Travis grunted, his only response. If there was anyone that knew about his life before MMA, other than a handful of police officers and lawyers back in Oklahoma, it was Merv. But they didn’t talk about it, and Merv knew that. Travis pinned the older man with a stare that would have quelled a lesser man. Merv wasn’t a lesser man and returned the stare with one of his own.
“I know how long it’s been, Merv,” he muttered on a growl, straightening his spine and resting his elbows on his spread knees. His gaze hardened on the older man. “And I don’t need a babysitter.”
Merv’s graying eyebrows bobbed and he tilted his head in a slight nod, the corners of his lips turning down in thought. “Checking in on a friend isn’t babysitting, Travis. It’s caring about someone.”
Travis shook his head and braced his hands on his knees, pushing himself up to stand. He bent at the waist and grabbed hold of the strap of his gym bag, hoisting it to his shoulder. “I don’t need check-ins, either. If I need a check-in, I go to Steve. Someone licensed and bound by confidentiality clauses.”
Merv’s hand clamped around Travis’s bicep and halted him as he made to brush past him. “Travis,” he said quietly, though the slight bite in his tone was what brought Travis’s eyes around. “Look, I know as men we’re taught to be stoic and suffer in silence… but it’s okay to talk about things every once in a while. You’re a good kid—”
Travis laughed, though it wasn’t altogether a pleasant sound. Leaning close to the older man, he muttered quietly, “Merv, I stopped being a kid twenty years ago when I went to jail for beating my old man to death. That doesn’t make me a good person. It makes me a monster.”
He moved past Merv, who stepped aside to let him pass. Stalking toward the door, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped through the music app, searching for a playlist. Something loud and angry, he didn’t care. Anything to drown out his thoughts.
