“Juno Jones.”
With a huff, I gave him a dramatic eye roll and stepped out of his hold. “Drop it, Oliver. I’m wearing this no matter what you say. Now, are we training or what?”
He studied me as I distracted myself from the heavy conversation, stretching both arms overhead and leaning to one side, then the other. “You know, when you came to me asking to learn basic self-defense moves, I thought it stemmed from the missing women cases. Now I’m wondering if that’s the actual reason or if you need to protect yourself from something or someone else.”
I lifted both shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “Does that change your willingness to train me?”
“No.” He shook his head. “But please don’t take this training and kill some dumb fucker from your past who doesn’t know his dick from his ass. Because that’s what he is if he ever even hinted at you not being perfect no matter what you wear. Because you are, Juno.”
Unshed tears burned behind my eyes. If Oliver only knew half the degrading lies and comments that were flung my way at one time. He was the type of man who would not only encourage me to seek Eric out to set him straight but would probably arm me with weapons too. Which was why I hadn’t mentioned him or anything in my life pre–Anchor Bay to anyone. Those shitty years and people needed to stay in my hometown of Banks, Alaska, where they belonged, allowing me the chance at a new life here.
I’d never heard of the quaint bay town where I ended up until I came across a job ad for a social media and scheduling coordinator posted by Uplift Adventure and Rescue Company. Needing a quick exit from my old life—as in I packed up my shit and bolted without telling anyone—I accepted the job sight unseen and moved my meager possessions to Anchor Bay. Little did I know it would be the best rash decision ever. I not only got away from the emotional abuse, but it led me to meet an amazing group of people who quickly became the family and friends I’d never had but always wanted. Being introduced to the poly community created by the owners of Uplift—Brandon, Amy, and Carl—was a shock at first, but now the thriving and happy throuple relationships seemed a lot more stable than traditional ones.
Everyone in the community was amazing, even the infuriating bastard Langston. Though that was mostly because he was so attractive that I forgot how to breathe around him, if he didn’t open his mouth and remind me why I named him Captain Asshole after that first meeting. He was well over six feet tall, with dark, almost black thick hair, a chiseled jaw, full sleeves, and jade-green eyes that I swear could see into your soul. Which sucked because the man was annoying, rude, instigating, and, for some reason, hated me.
Why?
Hell if I knew. Since that first meeting when he picked me up in Anchorage after I was hired, the man had a cactus up his ass when it came to me. Other than him, and the female hikers and our friend Caroline going missing—oh, and the recent murder of a local—life was great now in my new home.
“Earth to Juno.”
I blinked and flinched at Oliver waving the practice mitts in front of my face. With a huff, I batted them away and went back to stretching. “By the way, while I love changing in a locker room with a urinal that was last cleaned in the sixties and metal lockers teeming with tetanus, when are you renovating this place?”
He spun in a slow circle, inspecting our surroundings with a grin. “What do you mean? It’s functional, right?”
The corners of my lips curled upward as I took in the mostly empty space. Other than the new sparring mats and punching bags hanging from the ceiling, plus the ancient treadmill I was pretty sure he’d found while dumpster diving, it barely looked like an actual gym. He never explained why he leased the dilapidated building six months ago, and maybe he never would. We all had our secrets, and I, for one, was glad he never pried into mine, so I offered him the same courtesy.
Similar to our previous sessions, I took my time warming up, making sure my muscles were loose before putting power into my punches and kicks. Oliver never touched me, preferring to coach from behind the mitts on my stance or posture. Soon, his deep voice and the pounding of my fists connecting with the firm pads were all I heard, offering me a few precious moments of peace from the relentless negative thoughts that constantly ran on a loop in my mind.
Almost half an hour had passed when he dropped the training pads and inclined his head toward my water bottle. “Take a break.”
Sweat dripping down my temples and breaths coming in quick pants, I dropped my fists and stepped back, ever grateful for the breather.
“You’re getting better. You take verbal correction well and put effort into our training time. You’ve come a long way from the woman with two left feet who asked me to train her.”
“Thanks,” I breathed as I downed some water. With the back of my forearm, I wiped at the few drops that clung to my lips. “At first, I just wanted to feel capable of defending myself, but now, being here, going through the movements, it’s freeing in a way. The movements, the sounds echoing around the empty space, help me zone out. It’s helping me feel strong, not just physically but mentally too. Not sure how that works.”
Oliver nodded. “I don’t know how it works either, but I feel the same way when I train. Which is why I’m here working the bag most of my days off.” Hands on his hips, he turned in a slow circle, admiring his gym. “I guess that’s one reason I rented the building and started putting together the small boxing gym. The place has turned into my haven from all the messed-up shit going on outside those glass doors.”
“It just needs a women’s locker room,” I commented with a grin as I checked the time on my phone. “Shit, I need to get going. I have a meeting with Brandon to update him on the scheduling software I’m creating and don’t want to go in there smelling like ass.”
Before he could respond, the front door opened with a grind of the metal hinges, allowing a gust of morning air to sweep through the space as his brother Kale stepped inside. The man froze when he saw me before continuing deeper into the gym.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Oliver called, dropping the training mitts to the mat. “I thought you were laying off the workouts until your knee healed?”
Kale hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah, I am, but I saw your car out front and just wanted to stop in, say hi or some shit.”
“Liar,” I snorted.
Releasing a frustrated groan, Kale ran a hand through his long, wavy hair. “I might have stopped in to see if there were any updates on that Jasper thing. Everyone in town is freaking out. Old man Murray thinks a bunch of devil worshippers possessed Jasper and made him kill himself.”
A soft laugh escaped as I started unwrapping my gloves. “That man needs to stop watching so much TV. Devil worshippers? In Anchor Bay?”
“‘That Jasper thing’ being his active murder investigation?” Oliver said. “You know I can’t discuss the details of an ongoing case and?—”
Kale raised both hands in surrender. “I’m not asking for details. Just give me something, anything that will calm people down. Do you know how many theories and conspiracies I’ve had to hear since it happened? With being your brother and the best bartender in Anchor Bay?—”
“So modest,” I chimed in with a wink while pulling on a pair of sweats over my tight shorts. It was one thing to wear the shorts while working out; a totally different level of confidence was needed for stepping outside the makeshift boxing gym.
