by S. M. Shade
“And bouncy. Thought she might knock me out with them,” Brandon agrees, laughing.
“What a way to go out, though.”
After a few seconds of silence, he asks, “Do you think Karen would go out with me?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” I throw Alex a large target and wait for him to move to Brandon’s other side. “Slide up and side kick,” I instruct.
“What if she laughs?” he mumbles, slamming his foot into the target.
“Then it’ll probably be because she’s as nervous as you. Girls aren’t good at this stuff either,” Alex reassures him.
“I don’t know what to say to her,” he admits.
“Just be honest, tell her what you like about her and what you want.”
I laugh at the doubt on Brandon’s face. “Alex isn’t the best guy to give you girl advice.”
“And you are,” Alex scoffs.
“Well, he can’t tell her the truth, he’ll get slapped in the face. Look.” I step back, putting a stop to the kicking drill. “Tell her that her eyes are pretty or her hair or something. Then say you want to get to know her better.”
“How is that different from my advice?” Alex asks, brushing a sweaty curl from his forehead.
“I was fifteen once. What he wants is to stick his tongue down her throat and get some boob action. He needs to tell her what she wants to hear, not what he wants to do.”
Brandon turns three shades of red, but manages a grin. “I think I’m going to go with Parker’s plan.”
“Smart kid, now, let’s see if you can hit me.”
After a few fights, Alex jumps in and I watch, correcting and coaching from the sideline. “Arm bar! Get it together, Taylor! He left himself vulnerable and you didn’t take advantage of it!” Brandon groans and taps out as Alex applies a choke hold.
Alex’s phone is buzzing again and I glance over to see who’s calling while he explains what Brandon did wrong. My gut clenches at the sight of Indiana State Prison blinking on the screen. Without a word, I grab his phone and look at his call history. The last call was twenty minutes long. Alex has been talking to that murdering abusive asshole.
“Hit the shower, Taylor. You did good work today,” I call, trying to keep my temper in check until he’s gone.
“Thanks!”
“Why the fuck have you been talking to Gene?” I demand as soon as Brandon is out of earshot.
Alex pales and snatches his phone. “Why are you checking my fucking phone?”
“It kept ringing. Answer the question.”
He runs his hand through his sweaty curls and haunted brown eyes meet mine. “I need to see him before he dies.”
“No, you don’t. Why the hell would you do that?”
“He’s going to be dead, Park. Dead. I’ll never get another chance to talk to him, to figure shit out.”
“Figure what out? He killed our mother! Beat her and shot her in the head! What more do you need to know?” I shout.
“I don’t know.” The bench shudders under his weight as he drops onto it. “He wants to see us before he dies.”
“You don’t owe him shit, Alex. He fucking owes us. He owes us a childhood that isn’t abusive and a mother who loves us. He took everything. I don’t understand you!”
“No,” he agrees. “You don’t.”
Brandon reappears and gathers his equipment, putting an end to our conversation. Alex grabs his phone and keys and nearly sprints out the door.
I spend the rest of the day pissed off. At least there are only two classes to cover, and I just have them focus on conditioning. I’m in no mood to correct form or referee. I don’t want to bite someone’s head off over a mistake. I lock the door behind the last student, and turn to find Janice gazing at me with a sympathetic smile. Without a word, she approaches and gives me a warm hug.
“It’ll get better. I know you hate life right now, but it’s good to see you care about someone. Don’t give up.” For the first time, my eyes burn with unshed tears. All it takes is a hug and a few consoling words from an unlikely ally. “Go home and rest. You look like shit,” she adds, making me laugh.
“See you tomorrow, Janice.”
The next week creeps by, no matter how much I stuff into each day. I’m at the gym first thing in the morning to workout before running whatever errands I’m needed for at Striking Back. The safe houses are covered which leaves me with too much time on my hands, so I fill it by tackling the second floor of the gym. I can’t help Macy anymore, but I can make a difference for women like her.
God, I miss her, no matter how exhausted I am when I fall into bed at night, I lay awake for hours, reliving our time together. My bed feels empty without her, but so does my day. No conversation over breakfast donuts. No afternoon game of Scrabble. I watch the sun go down from my back patio, but it isn’t the same without her curled up in the lounger next to me. I’m in a constant state of depressed and pissed off.
All I know to do is stay busy. Work, workout, train, and work some more. The second floor is completely cleared and ready for the remodelers and now I’m at a loss for what to do.
“Ev!” I call when I see her walk in the gym while I’m running on the treadmill. I’ve fought the urge all week to bother them. Mason is recovering and they have a kid to take care of, but I have to know how Macy is doing.
“Hey, Parker. How are you doing?” she asks, a sympathetic expression on her face.
“I’m okay. How is Macy? Is she doing all right? Has she had any panic attacks? Is her ankle okay?”
Ev holds her hands up at my rapid fire questions. “She’s okay. I talk to her every day.”
“Talk to her? Isn’t she staying with you?” I step off the machine and throw a towel around my neck.
“She moved back to her apartment the day you left.”
“What? Shit, Ev. You should’ve told me. I thought she was staying with you. She shouldn’t be alone.”
“She’s a grown woman and she wanted to go home. She’s back at work and doing well. In fact, we’re getting together tonight for a girl’s night to celebrate a big client she landed. She was really excited.” Ev runs her hand down my arm. “She’s really okay, Park, but you could call her. She misses you.”
“I miss her, but she’s better off,” I mumble. “She moved back to her old apartment?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me know if she needs anything, okay?”
“I will.” I’m pulled into a hug. “Don’t be a stranger. I expect to see you around the house as usual. No hiding out.”
“I’ll be by,” I lie.
* * * *
“This what you do all evening? Sit out here and feel sorry for yourself?” Alex walks out on my patio carrying a bottle of bourbon.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Nice to see you too, brother. Ian and Cooper are on their way.”
“What for?”
“To drink, what else?”
The last time I saw Alex, I screamed at him and he’s bringing the guys over to make me feel better. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, but you’re right, I don’t understand.”
“Let’s just let it go for tonight, okay?” he asks, as we hear a knock on the door.
Cooper and Ian traipse in carrying another bottle. “Are we getting torn up tonight?” I ask, shoving a couple of loungers in their direction.
“That’s the plan.”
The rest of the night is a blur, and I wake thirsty as hell with a pounding headache. It’s too damn early to be awake, but that always happens when I drink. I only sleep long enough to sleep off the alcohol and I’m wide awake. And thinking of Macy.
She seems to be doing fine without me, working and hanging out with her friends. I’m happy for her, but I also don’t want her to forget me. I’ve been tempted all week to contact her, maybe send flowers, now I have an excuse to do so. To congratulate her on her success at work. Who am I bullshitting? I want to know she at least thought about me today, even f
or a second. It’s only fair since she’s haunting my every second.
Chapter Nine
Macy
Janet shows up for girl’s night a few minutes before Everly and Marie. She seems pleased to have been invited since we haven’t really hung out outside of work. This whole situation has made me realize how much I need to make new friends. I got together with Al when I first moved to the city and meeting other people just wasn’t a priority. I didn’t realize how isolated I was until I needed help.
Everly and Marie bound through the door with wine and a huge box of chocolates. After introducing Janet, we settle around my kitchen counter, sipping wine.
“Ugh,” Ev moans, glaring at her soft drink. “Nine months without alcohol.”
“But you have the perfect excuse to gorge on chocolate,” Janet points out.
“Next time we can go dancing,” I suggest. “Another few weeks and my ankle will be able to handle it.”
“Sounds great,” Marie replies. I haven’t seen her since I broke down and told her the truth about Al at our book club. We weren’t close before. Truthfully, we’d never talked outside of the club, but when she saw my bruises through my makeup, she jumped to help me. These are the kind of women I want as friends.
“So.” I turn to Janet. “Heard from a certain hot bulky bodyguard?”
Janet’s smile could light up the whole neighborhood. “We met for lunch yesterday.”
“Bodyguard?” Everly asks, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“Jensen.”
“Holy shit! Jake Jensen?” Everly beams at Janet. “He’s a mountain of hot.”
“I know!” Janet squeals. “We’re going out again tomorrow night.”
“All right. You bitches need to quit holding out on me,” Marie huffs. “Sexy MMA brothers—twins for god’s sake—hot buff bodyguards. I thought these men only existed in dirty books.”
“Oh, they’re real,” I remark, draining my glass.
“So real,” Janet sighs.
“And they fuck like a rock star,” Ev adds. My kitchen is filled with laughter for the first time I can remember.
“You could introduce her to Ian,” I suggest to Ev, before regarding Marie. “Tall, dark, and handsome. Amazing eyes.”
Ev shakes her head at Marie’s expectant look. “I’ve learned the hard way not to hook Ian up with my friends. His relationships don’t last long and then things get complicated.”
Ev turns to me with a grin. “Devon, on the other hand…”
“He’d be perfect!”
After another hour of chatter, we decide to catch the new Magic Mike movie at the theater. The theater is packed with groups of laughing, chatting women, eager to see our favorite actors shake their stuff.
We argue good naturedly over who has the best ass and firmest abs until the lights dim. Marie unabashedly produces the large box of chocolates and passes them around. For the first time since he left me, I manage to push away all thoughts of Parker, at least for a couple of hours.
* * * *
My head feels as big as a pumpkin and someone stuffed my mouth with cotton while I slept. At least that’s how it feels when I drag my sticky eyes open the next morning. Make that afternoon. The clock on my nightstand reads 12:02 when I stumble out of bed to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
“Is the sun always this bright?” Marie grumbles, pulling herself to a sitting position on my couch.
“Only after endless bottles of wine.” I start the coffeemaker and grab two bottles of water, along with a pack of ibuprofen.
“Thanks.” She accepts the water and we both down the pills. “Ev went home last night, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, so did Janet.”
“Lightweights.”
“Wussies,” I agree, and wince at the sound of a knock on the door. Who the hell could that be?
“Delivery for Macy Tanner,” the young man says when I open the door. Marie comes up behind me as I’m handed a huge bouquet of wildflowers and a white bakery box. There’s only one person who would send me flowers. I’m grateful Marie thinks to tip the delivery guy before sending him on his way. I’m too busy trying to fight the instant lump in my throat. I pluck the folded card from the flowers.
Congratulations on your success at work. You deserve it. Never forget how amazing you are. Thinking of you.
Parker
Marie gives me a minute to read the card before asking, “Are they from Parker?”
Tears escape my eyes as I nod. They only increase when I open the box to find triple chocolate cupcakes. “He misses me too,” I whisper.
Marie moves to sit beside me and pulls me into a hug. “Of course he does.”
“I figured he’d moved on to someone else.”
“Once you get a hold of yourself, you should call him.”
“Maybe.” I wipe my eyes and take the cupcakes to the kitchen. “I need to think.”
“Why don’t you go to my yoga class with me today? It’s relaxing. Helps you think.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to shower.”
“Yeah.” Marie stands, stretching. “I’m going to go home and get cleaned up. I’ll be back to pick you up about three, okay?”
“I’ll be ready.”
The warm water helps wash away some of my hangover, but not my indecision. What do I do? I have to at least say thank you for the flowers and chocolate. He wouldn’t have sent them if he didn’t want to hear from me, right?
He’s the one who ended things the second I wasn’t in danger anymore. Maybe he always intended to. Nothing has changed. I’m still the same, still having panic attacks, still weak. I won’t be the pathetic woman who pursues a man no longer interested. He’s just being nice, checking on me and sending flowers.
There’s no way I can hear his voice without crying, so a text will have to do.
-Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful. And the cupcakes won’t survive the day.-
Okay, that sounds friendly and not too needy. A few minutes later I’m sure he isn’t going to respond when my phone beeps.
-You’re more than welcome, doll.-
Marie’s knock at the door distracts me before I can overanalyze and obsess over his reply.
I’m surprised to find that I like yoga. I haven’t had any exercise and it feels good to stretch my muscles. I need to start running again.
During the next couple of weeks, my days become routine. I wake up and stare at the empty spot in my bed and let myself cry. Grab a shower and catch a thirty minute yoga class before work.
Working with A.L. Primm is wonderful. She’s funny and easy to get along with, even though the work itself can be overwhelming and demanding. Not to mention word of mouth has my calendar full before my name is even listed on her books as an editor.
I meet twice a week with my therapist and though I still have an occasional nightmare, the panic attacks have stopped. I run every evening before dinner and my body is beginning to show the difference. It doesn’t hurt my self-esteem to see my thighs and rear firming up.
During my spare time, I hang out with Ev, Marie, and Janet, and even start a Saturday sketching class at the community center. I’ve always loved to draw, but never really thought I was good at it until Ev saw my notebook and asked me to design a tattoo for her.
I’m doing exactly what I planned, being independent and strong. My life is full and I should be happy. A cute guy in my sketching class flirts with me, but I just can’t. I can’t forget Parker. Can’t let him go.
I haven’t heard a word from him since the flowers and the text. Ev swears he isn’t seeing someone else, but she’s trying to protect my feelings. He’s moving on, and I need to as well.
It’s Ev that brings me my first real opportunity when we meet for lunch. “Stan’s a good guy, a little shy, but nice. You should let him take you out.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to start anything with anyone else yet,” I reply with a sigh. I’m still pining for the guy who doesn’t want me.
>
“You don’t have to start anything. Just go out and have a good time. It’ll be good for you.” Grinning, she holds up her phone so I can see a picture of a smiling man with brown eyes and blond hair.
He’s cute, but all I want is my dark headed man with the fuck me eyes. Damn it. Maybe going out with someone else will help. “Okay, give him my number,” I blurt impulsively.
Ev laughs in surprise. “All right then. I’ve got to run, but you better tell me when he calls you.”
I don’t have to wait long. Stan calls the same night and we spend a few minutes talking before he asks me to dinner the following night. You’d think I’d be excited. I have a date in less than twenty-four hours, but I just can’t seem to care. Parker has ruined me. I still love him and until that goes away, I’m not sure I can give a shit about much else.
Janet is excited enough for the both of us when I tell her I have a date. She’s been seeing Jensen almost every day and she’s annoyingly happy. Not that I’m not glad for her, but that old saying about misery loving company is true. On the days I struggle to drag my depressed ass out of bed, her bubbly attitude is hard to take. I’m sure I’m no joy to be around either.
I’m going through the motions of having a life, but I’m not feeling it. I’m not feeling much of anything, but I keep going. Wake, cry, yoga, work, run, dinner, sleep. An occasional drawing class or day out with friends. They say to fake it until you make it, and while there’s comfort in the routine, I can’t pretend I don’t miss him.
“I’ll come and help you get ready!” Janet crows. “Oh, we should go shopping this afternoon! Get you a new dress.”
“I’m not wearing a dress. He may as well see I’m not a high heels type of woman from the beginning.”
“A new outfit then,” she insists, shrugging off my argument.
She looks so excited I can’t tell her no. “Fine, we’ll go after lunch. How are things going with Jake?”