Sucker Punch (TKO 4)

I sigh as I approach the front door. This is the one place that makes me truly feel good inside and out. I may be changed, but this place, it never changes, and for that I’m fucking grateful. I pull the door open and walk in, accepting the smell of testosterone and sweat. Ah, smells like heaven.

I approach the office and peek my head inside. Howard is laid back in his chair snoring. I chuckle and step back, bumping into someone.

“Whoa, watch it. You’re going to make me mess up my hair.” Lance laughs. He scared the crap out of me, I didn’t know anyone was around.

“You’re an ass. How’s Tyler?” I ask about their new baby boy.

“I’m a sexy ass. He’s just like his daddy, awesome. What’s Howard doing?” He nods towards the office.

“Sleeping.”

“Not for long.” He laughs again, even louder this time as he jumps inside and yells, “Wake up, motherfucker!”

Howard almost falls out of his chair, startled by Lance’s job as our built-in alarm. “Were you raised in a barn?” he mumbles as he sits up. His eyes are red like he’s been sleeping a while.

“Maybe.” Lance grins, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m up now, anyone want breakfast? I’m buying.” Howard stands.

I told Ruston I didn’t want anything, but when Lance announces he wants a sausage biscuit, my stomach begins begging me for food. I chime in my order and he writes it down on a scrap piece of paper.

“Tired much?” Lance asks Howard. I notice Howard is wearing the same black shirt and gray wind shorts as yesterday, but I don’t say anything.

“Hell, y’all may as well hear this from me instead of Garrett or Whitney, but we got in a big fight last night. These damn pregnancy hormones seem fucking worse this time around. She took Randi Lynn and went to stay with Garrett, and I just couldn’t stand to stay in the apartment, so I came here.”

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry, man,” I tell him before Lance can spit out something sarcastic.

“We’ll be okay. I just don’t like fighting like that. I don’t like my family being threatened. She’s never threatened to leave but she did last night. If I lost her and Randi Lynn, I don’t know what I would do.”

“Well, like you said, you’ll be okay. I bet y’all make up today.” I offer him some hope as he stands.

“We all know Whitney loves you. Obviously y’all hump like rabbits since you knocked her up again,” Lance finally is able to chime in. Howard actually chuckles. I wasn’t sure he would.

“I’m going to get breakfast. I’ll be back. Don’t burn anything down while I’m gone.” Howard stares dead at Lance, who throws his hands up defensively.

“Why does everyone seem to think I’m the troublemaker?” he asks all innocently before bursting out into some sort of demented laugh.

“My point exactly.” Howard chuckles again, grabbing his wallet.

Once he steps outside, I turn to face Lance. “So what are we doing first today?”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but since the boss is out for a minute, I’m sitting on my ass. You know he’s going to work us to death because it’s how he deals with his personal turmoil.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask him. I’ve only been at the gym for a few short months before the accident, so everyone here is still fairly new to me.

“Anytime he and Whitney fight, we pay the price here. He’s being nice now but he’ll snap later, so enjoy the free time. Hey, where’s your arm?” he asks. I was waiting for someone to notice, but at the same time, it’s nice I can walk around and know they aren’t gawking at me and my disability.

“I didn’t want to wear it today. I know I got it for a reason, but I don’t like it. I’m probably better off without it.”

“I can’t say I blame you. You look pretty badass no matter what. It’s pretty fucking epic your tattoo is still there,” he points out.

I laugh at his ‘badass’ comment. If only he knew the breakdown I had this morning trying to tie my damn shoes. Then he wouldn’t think I was so badass anymore.

Chapter 2

Howard returns with breakfast and Lance and I run over acting like we’ve been working hard when in reality, we’ve been just horsing around. He still looks like he’s in a good mood but I’m not trying to test him. I unwrap my sausage biscuit with my arm, trying not to drop it, and take a bite. It’s so damn good. I’m ready to finish eating when the front door swings open and a pissed-off Garrett comes barreling inside.

“Where is he?” he growls.