Gym Junkie

“I didn’t think much of him, anyway. Good riddance.” He gently squeezes my hip again. That’s it.

“What are you doing?” I snap, flicking his hand off me.

“Come on, Tull,” he whispers. “You’re lonely, I’m lonely.” His eyes drop to my lips again. “We can help each other out.”

“What… by fucking?” I snap, outraged.

He inhales sharply and grabs my hand, placing it on his hard dick. “You know I’ve always wanted you.”

My eyes widen in horror. “What the hell, Peter?” I whisper angrily as I snatch my hand away. “The feeling is not mutual. I’m offended. You need to leave.”

“Bullshit! I’ve seen the way you look at me. You want it.” He grabs my hand and puts it back on his hard cock again.

I pull my hand away and shove him in the chest. “Get the fuck out!” I snap.

“Come on, Tull,” he whispers, pushing me backwards and pinning me to the bench. “We would be so good together,” he breathes on my neck.

“What the actual fuck?” I knee him as hard as I can in the balls, and he doubles over in pain. I run to the stairs and take them two at a time.

I get to the bottom of the stairs and push the double doors open, panting and gasping for breath.

That’s it. Fuck him! I’m telling them what I know.

Peter is a fucking asshole.

“Are you kidding me?” Rourke whispers from across the table.

“I wish I was,” I whisper as I lean forward in my chair. “So, Brock and his team think it’s a policeman who is forcing these girls to blackmail wealthy business men, and then he’s murdering the women once they’ve done it.”

He frowns as he sips his Coke. We are at lunch in the middle of a crisis meeting, and I’m telling Rourke everything.

“And now you are suspicious that someone is switching evidence,” I whisper.

“Not suspicious. I’m sure of it,” he says with conviction.

“Remember when I saw Brock downstairs at reception, way back when I hardly knew him, and he was wanting to know who was driving a certain police car?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“I just checked it.” I glance around and lean in. “Peter was driving it.”

His eyes widen. “Peter… your stepbrother?”

I nod. “Yep.”

He puts his hand over his mouth. “Fucking hell,” he whispers and runs his hands through his hair. “Maybe it was a coincidence?”

“Maybe. Brock said he wants to put a hidden camera in the lab.”

His face falls. “We can’t do that. If we get caught we’ll lose our jobs.”

“But we can’t tell anyone,” I whisper. “We have no idea who we can trust. If we tell the wrong person, they’ll kill us, too.”

Rourke puts both of his hands on his head. “Fucking hell, Tully, what do we do?”

“I don’t know. But we had better start thinking of something fast.”

“And they really think this is so serious that Meredith is now in protective custody?” He frowns.

I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“Where is she?” He frowns.

“I don’t know,” I whisper angrily. “I have no damn idea what the heck is going on anymore.” I throw up my hands in exasperation. “The whole world has turned to shit.”

“Did you speak to Brock?”

I roll my eyes. “He told me he wishes he’d never met me.”

Rourke winces. “Ouch.”

Now it’s my turn to put my head in my hands. “I went to his house the other night during that big storm. He wouldn’t answer the door, so I sat on his front step and cried in the rain for an hour.”

Rourke curls his lip in disgust. “Playing hard to get, hey?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I can’t believe what a fucking idiot I’ve been.”

Rourke widens his eyes. “I wouldn’t say a fucking idiot. A martyr, yes.”

My face falls. “You think I was being a martyr?”

He shrugs casually. “I think that you never dealt with your guilt over leaving Simon and you channelled it very badly by dumping Brock.”

I stare at him sadly.

“I can’t believe Simon got someone pregnant,” he sighs.

“Do you know how fucked up I am?” I ask. “I’m thrilled that he got someone pregnant because it means that I’m not the bad guy in our relationship anymore.”

“You were never the bad guy, Tully. Breaking up with someone is not being a bad guy. It’s just being honest. You did the right thing… right up until you threw away what you had with Brock.” He points at me. “That was fucking stupid.”

“I know.”

“And he will probably never get over it,” he adds.

“I know that, too.” I sigh as I put my hand over my forehead.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he hates your guts now.”

“Shut the hell up, Rourke,” I snap. “You’re pissing me off with all your honestly.”

“Listen, back to business before we go back to work. I think we need to seriously consider what Brock is saying. He won’t let anything happen to you.”