Gym Junkie

“Why?” God, what is he talking about?

“Why you fucking left me, Tully. I did everything right. Everything that you wanted, I handed it to you on a silver fucking platter. Now I want to know why you left me.”

My heart sinks in my chest. He has a point; he did do everything right. “Brock, I didn’t want you to hate me. I know it sounds lame.”

He watches me intently.

“When you came to London and we had that first fight, you said you were there to take me home.” I throw my hands up in the air. “I knew that giving Simon my attention was going to be an issue for you. And I know you came around and said it wasn’t an issue at that time.” I take his hands in mine. “But if it had gone on for three, four, or even six months, you’d have become bitter. Anybody would have, Brock. Even me.”

He rolls his lips as he looks down at our entwined hands.

“I’m sorry that I left you, but I don’t regret it,” I say.

He frowns.

“I needed to be there for Simon, Brock. He’s very sick… still is very sick. I’ve already visited him three times this week.” I smile. “Did you know he’s having a baby?”

“What?”

“With Penny, that girl he was seeing.”

His face falls. “And you’re happy about it?”

“I’m thrilled about it. She’s really nice, and hopefully they’re going to try and make a go of it. He’s going to be a dad. I’m so darn happy for him. It couldn’t have come at a better time.”

He frowns, confused.

“When I tell you that my feelings for Simon are platonic now, I honestly mean it. I care about him but only as a friend.”

He drops his head.

“I love you, you big twatwaffle.”

His eyes rise to mine. “You need to come up with better nickname material than that, Princess Pussy Porridge.”

Tears instantly fill my eyes. In that moment, I know it’s going to be okay. I rise onto my tippy toes and kiss him softly. “Take me to bed,” I whisper.

He wraps his arms around me. “No. You’re in time out.”

I giggle up at him. “For how long?”

“Life.”

I smile, and we kiss. I hold him tight.

“We need to get going. Grab your things,” he sighs in defeat.

“Okay.” I run into my room and grab my overnight things, smiling at my reflection in the mirror as my heart bursts with hope. Please let us get through this.

We make our way downstairs.

“Oh, I’ll just check my mail.” I get the key and open the mailbox.

The janitor, Meredith’s friend, walks past. “Oh, Tully, hi. Can you take Meredith’s mail to her at her mother’s, please?” He hands me a big wad of mail of hers that he’s collected.

“Sure.” I stuff it into my bag. “Thank you.”

Brock’s phone rings. He digs it out and answers it. “Hey.”

He frowns as he listens for a moment. “Fuck’s sake,” he sighs. “Fine, tell her she’s a pain in my ass.” He hangs up.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as we walk out of the building.

“Meredith left her phone on charge in the safehouse. We have to swing by and pick it up.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not okay because it’s out of the fucking way,” he snaps. “She’s so annoying. How do you forget your phone?”

There he is, my impatient man. I smile goofily.

“What?” He frowns.

“I missed your cranky ass.”

He rolls his eyes, unimpressed, and we make our way out to the car, and then over to the safehouse. He wasn’t joking, it is out of the way. It’s on a private piece of land that sits on the edge of the national park. We haven’t spoken much but he held my hand on his lap the whole way here while I smiled like a two-year-old.

We pull up to the side of the house and I peer in. It’s an old house made of sandstone.

“God, this house is creepy.” I shudder.

“Wait here, I won’t be a minute. I’ll grab it and be right back.”

As he gets out of the car, his phone rings. “Stan.” He smiles. “What are you up to?” He chuckles as he disappears into the house.

I smile and put my head back to the seat, closing my eyes. I finally feel like I can relax. I think everything is going to all right. At least he is open to working on it.

Something hard and cold buts up against my neck, and I look up and find myself staring straight into the evil eyes of Cole, my boss.

And the cold, hard thing pressed against my neck happens to be a gun.

Holy fuck.

Chapter 26

“C-Cole,” I stutter. “What… what are you doing?”

My boss?

He jams the barrel of the gun up under my jaw. “Hand it over,” he growls.

“Please, what do you want?” I whimper.

“You know what I fucking want. Hand it over.”