She couldn’t have picked a better day to be a lunatic. Biding her time, waiting until I was out of state. I sit there shaking my head, having an inner war with myself.
Once the town comes into view, my legs shake with nerves as Weeks gets us through the streets, pissing people off, but they’re the last of our worries. Screeching to a halt in front of Hard Knocks, the car isn’t even in park when I jump out, slamming the door, barreling into the gym. My eyes scan the room but come up empty.
I stand there, lost, when Thomas comes up from behind me. “Come on, let's go sit in the office.” He ushers me into the private room.
Sitting behind my desk, I open the camera footage and watch as she patiently waits for Weeks to become busy before she sees her chance, taking it without a second thought. I slam the laptop screen, cutting off the image of her exiting the gym. I force myself to turn and face the wall because I don’t want them to see the tears in my eyes.
“What is she thinking?” I question the room, not needing them to answer it. With no other thoughts, I get up so fast that my office chair flies back into the desk with a loud thud as I yank my shirt off before heading onto the floor, needing the boxing bag. I don’t think, just hit with unwrapped hands. I keep going, not stopping. I’m zoned in on the bag and the pain shooting up my hands when a hand touches my slick back, and I know instantly who it is. My arms fall to my waist, utterly tired and beaten up, as I slowly turn around.
Standing in front of me is a swollen-eyed Rowan. Her eyebrows knitted together. When she opens her mouth, I raise my hand, and she jumps back, which pisses me off even more. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Not right now. And why the fuck did you jump back? I’d never put my hands on you.” I spit the words like venom at her as she inches back away from me, my eyes never leave her face. I want to see her wrecked like I was.
“You scared me.” I walk past her, leaving her standing in the middle of the gym. The need to get away from her is heavy; my anger won’t subside.
The office door opens, interrupting me as I put my shirt back on, and Rowan stands there like a puppy with its tail between its legs. She knows what she did, but does she really care? She is upset and sad because she was caught. My anger is boiling, and I don’t like that. I don’t want to be angry at her, but what the hell am I supposed to do? She’s everything to me. My beginning and end. My here and forever. There was nothing before Rowan, and there won’t be anything after. She’s it. How doesn’t she understand that?
“I’m sorry,” comes out softly from her lips.
Squinting at her, I question, “Sorry for what, Rowan? What did you do? What was so important you had to go missing for hours?”
She stands there, just looking at me, not saying a word.
I nod my head. “I was worried sick about you.”
“I’m sorry.” That is all she can say. Nothing else, nothing more.
“I bet you are,” I toss at her before moving past her, out into the gym, leaving her there to worry her own self. She’s only sorry because she was caught.
Thomas and Weeks are both standing at the front. “Let's get some drinks,” I tell them, knowing they’ll follow me outside.There isn’t much around here, but there is a bar. We walk a few blocks in silence, arriving at Thirsty. We lumber in and nab a corner booth. I don’t talk to them but order a round of beer and some shots. “Bring me whatever; I don’t care,” I tell the server. She smiles at me and winks before turning away with her hips swaying. I downcast my eyes while breaking open a few peanuts, tossing them in my mouth.
Weeks is the first one to break the silence. “Where was she?”
Raising my shoulders, I say, “The hell I know. She didn’t say.”
Weeks shakes his head as the server sets the drinks down. “Tequila.” She points to the shots.
“Keep them coming.” I pass her a fifty-dollar bill.
“Yes, sir.” Her words leak with provocation as I look her up and down, her tiny shorts barely covering her ass as she walks away from our table.
Thomas shakes his head. “Easy up there.” He shoots a look at me.
I hold up my hands. “I’m good.”
“Just because you’re pissed off now doesn’t mean to make a mistake you can’t come back from.” Thomas takes his shot, shaking his head.
Weeks sitting next to him, nods in agreement.
“I’m not a fucking idiot. I’m mad at her, not going to fuck a random hole to get back at her.”
Thomas slides me my shot. “Drink and shut the fuck up.”
I do…and keep doing until the room spins.
“I got this,” Thomas tells Weeks as he hands the server his credit card, I have to keep one eye closed for everything to stop spinning.
When the server comes back, she hands Thomas his receipt, but then scoots a piece of paper to me. Before I can reach it, Weeks grabs it and hands it back to her. “We’re good, baby doll.”
“Oh,” leaves her mouth, and it sounds too whiny for a woman of her age. I can’t help the laugh I let out.
