No Rep

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  Francine, however, looked like she needed my protection.

  She looked like she’d welcome it, too.

  If she found out she could trust me, that was.

  I blinked and tried to shove that protectiveness I could feel toward her down into that cage that I tried to keep it in, shoving it deep and locking it up tight so I wouldn’t run her off.

  Then I gave her my back and started to roll the whiteboard toward the middle of the room where I was going to use it today.

  All in all, eighteen people had shown up for the bootcamp, nineteen if you counted Mavis who was going to work out with her sister and not go to the regular class that was about to happen on the opposite side of the gym.

  Once the clock struck six in the evening, I reluctantly uncrossed my arms, tried in vain to look approachable, and said, “Hello, class. Happy Monday. Everyone excited to be here?”

  There was a shit ton of grumbling coming from the class, but only one in particular that I was interested in.

  The woman that Mavis crowded closer to.

  “I am Coach Brady. I’ll be instructing your six-week bootcamp,” I announced to them all. “Why don’t we start right here and work our way around the circle, introducing ourselves and what we do.”

  I, of course, chose Mavis first.

  She smiled. “I’m actually a veteran CrossFitter, if there even is such a thing. I’ve been here for a year and a half. I came to accompany my sister, Francine.”

  Francine smiled and waved at the class.

  “You can call me Fran.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Maybe if we tell people that the brain is an app, people will start using it.

  -Text from Fran to Mavis

  FRAN

  “Did you know one of the worst workouts in CrossFit is named Fran?” the sexy man, our coach, asked me.

  And when I say sexy, I felt like even that word didn’t give the man standing in front of me enough justice.

  Even him saying I was named after an awful workout wasn’t enough to keep me from staring at him.

  Something I’d been doing ever since I’d noticed he was there.

  Jesus, he was severely breathtaking.

  “I did not.” I shook my head. “I have to admit, I was kind of unwilling to try CrossFit until recently. I don’t want to look like a bodybuilder.”

  The man’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. He did have amusement in his eyes, however.

  “You won’t,” he promised. “Bodybuilders have to eat and bulk up to get to their growth. I highly doubt you’d like ingesting five thousand calories a day and lifting weights for six hours. Plus, you don’t have enough testosterone flowing through your veins.”

  I automatically shook my head, unable to answer him.

  My tongue was twisted and refused to work properly.

  My eyes went over his body as he thankfully moved to the man beside me.

  His name was Herb, and he hadn’t worked out in fifteen years. He secretly hoped that he didn’t die today.

  All the while Herb was speaking, my eyes took the coach in.

  Coach Brady was tall. Very tall. At least six-foot-four.

  I’d never really been into tall guys, mostly because I was on the short end, and always looking up was a pain in the neck. Literally.

  The coach was also very muscular. As in, he could probably pick me up and break me over his knee with little to no effort.

  What had me not freaking out about his size, however, was the color of his eyes.

  They were a pale green, like the color of the Gulf of Mexico in Florida on its very best, most clear day.

  Eyes that very same shade had been the soothing balm on about two years’ worth of nightmares.

  Nightmares that I had, living and awake, since the assault that had nearly killed me.

  The man that had saved my life had eyes that color.

  I remembered seeing them and only them that night in the dark. He’d had a flashlight that’d reflected off my white shirt and lit up only a small portion of his face, giving me the color of his eyes.

  Eyes that I’d then relied on for the next two years to get me out of every nightmare that ever took me over.

  I didn’t know why, out of everyone that had helped me after that—the nurses and doctors, the paramedic that kept me alive, physical therapists, occupational therapists, psychiatrists, hell, even my sister—that his eyes were the only thing I was able to focus on that calmed me. But it was the cop that ran the man away before he’d gotten a chance to do anything. That man was the one that stuck out the most. He had stopped something from happening to me that would have broken me and I would never be able to recover from.

  The coach’s jaw was chiseled—even under the short beard that covered the lower half of his face. I could even make out a chin dimple, too.

  A chin dimple that was adorable on most people but was sexy as hell on him.

  Seriously, the man was the whole package.

  Dark brown hair that almost appeared black until he turned just right. Dark scruff on his face. Dark eyebrows, and eyelashes that were more suitable for a female than a male—or, at least, they were eyelashes that a female would kill to have without having to get them added on once a month.

  His mouth was full, and his teeth were straight.

  His Adam’s apple was prominent, and what I could see of his chest and legs—he was wearing jeans, motorcycle boots, and a black t-shirt—was just as muscular and toned as what I couldn’t see.

  Did CrossFit coaches normally wear street clothes like that to the gym?

  Outwardly, I couldn’t see any tattoos—but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any.

  There was also a scar on his lip that looked like it’d happened recently.

  “Are you even listening?” Mavis hissed.

  No, no I was not.

  “No,” I admitted. “Why?”

  “He told us to go roll out.”

  I had no idea what that meant.

  “Holy shit, Mavis. What the hell?” I whispered to my sister the moment that she pulled us to a corner of the gym that was semi-private, sensing that I was losing it.

  Mavis turned to me with the same dark blue eyes as my own.

  “What the hell what?” she grumbled. “What’s your deal? You should be listening to this. It’s important.”

  I couldn’t listen to anything that man said.

  Mostly because his voice was so sexy that it made my chest ache.

  “Who is that man?” I asked, unable to fully keep my gaze off of him.

  When I looked toward him, it was to find him staring at me with curiosity on his face.

  “That’s Taos.”

  I frowned. “What? Chaos?”

  She shook her head. “No. Taos. Like Chaos, but with a T.”

  I blinked. What an odd name.

  I thought mine was weird, but Taos… I liked it.

  It suited him.

  “You didn’t tell me he would be so intimidating,” I whispered.

  Before we’d come, she’d told me absolutely anything and everything she could come up with regarding the gym.

  That included who might and might not be coaching. But a ‘Taos’ was never mentioned by her.

  Mavis turned to survey me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, even though I was slightly queasy. “I’m fine. I just…he’s big. And intimidating, and his eyes are super watchful.”

  Mavis tilted her head. “Taos used to be a cop. He’s watchful. He looks scary and unapproachable, but he’s a good man. I promise. I would never have brought you here if there were going to be people here that wouldn’t treat you like you need to be treated.”

  I almost rolled my eyes.

  My sister treated me like spun glass.

  Ever since the incident, she never, ever let me stay alone if she could help it.

  At first, it was because she was worried that I might up and die on her due to my injuries. Then she was worried that I might up
and die on her because I was going to kill myself.

  I wasn’t. Not after surviving. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t super depressed and found it hard to stay engaged in life.

  “Seriously, come on,” she urged. “Let’s get this started. Once you get your mind off of him and on dying instead, you’ll be able to do fine.”

  I had a feeling I wouldn’t, but whatever.

  “Sure,” I croaked.

  “…we’re going to be doing baseline.” Taos’ voice was like a balm to my disconcerted soul. I had no idea why it rubbed me like it did, but I loved it a lot.

  “What’s baseline?” A man in his late thirties, who was slightly overweight and had a beer belly on him, asked.

  “Good question,” Taos said as he spun the board around to face us. “Baseline is a place where every CrossFitter starts. We’ll do baseline initially and then every once in a while, to see where we’ve improved. Once today, and once at the end of the bootcamp. And, if you decide to stay with CrossFit, then sporadically throughout the year.”

  I was still waiting to hear what baseline was.

  As if he heard my thoughts, he grinned and said, “Baseline is five hundred meters on the rower, forty squats, thirty sit-ups, twenty push-ups, and ten pull-ups.”

  I didn’t even think I could do one pull-up, let alone ten.

  The others I had a feeling I could get through.

  Though, just sayin’, but I hadn’t done push-ups in years. And even then, I’d done what Mavis had called ‘girl’ push-ups.

  “Any questions?” he asked as he glanced around the room.

  Yet again, his eyes came to land on me, and I felt like he was calling me out specifically.

  I flushed and shook my head.

  He nodded and turned back to the whiteboard. “All right. Everyone grab a band and let’s get started.”

  He then proceeded to walk us through the warmup, which was, in my opinion, a workout in and of itself.

  It felt good, though, to have my muscles straining.

  It felt… freeing.

  After we were done with our ‘warmup,’ I watched as he walked over to an older lady in the back and helped her with her squat form.

  He touched the back of her leg lightly and then brought a ball up to her backside.

  He then demonstrated what he wanted her to do.

  The bad thing was, I wanted him to demonstrate on me.

  All night long.

  “You really have to control yourself,” I heard whispered from beside me.

  I frowned and looked over at the unfamiliar voice.

  “Are you talking to me?” I questioned.

  Surely, she wasn’t.

  But, sadly for her and for me, she was talking to me.

  “It’s kind of embarrassing,” she smirked. “My husband is used to it, after all, but that doesn’t make it any better.”

  Husband?

  Husband?!

  Why wouldn’t Mavis…

  “Surely you remember that ugly divorce y’all went through last year, right, Maria?” Mavis drawled. “The one that you brought into this very gym and tried to ruin his career and his friendship with his best friend?”

  What the hell?

  “Don’t call me Shirley,” the woman hissed.

  I had no heart to correct her and tell her that Mavis wasn’t calling her anything.

  “And I’m back here to try to win him back. It’d be best if y’all didn’t try to stand in my way,” Maria continued as if she hadn’t just embarrassed herself.

  My eyelid twitched.

  I had been in the woman’s presence for all of thirty seconds, and I already felt bad for Taos having to spend even a second more with her.

  “Well, good luck with that,” Mavis cheerfully replied as she caught my hand and led us away.

  “Who the fuck was she?” I wondered the moment we were far enough away from both Taos and his ex-wife.

  “Maria. Taos’ ex-wife. The keeper to the gates of hell.” Mavis rolled her eyes. “They were married for a few years. Shit happened that I don’t know about. Then Maria started to come here to get a rise out of him. A few of the members asked her to stop, so she did. But apparently, she got bored or something because she’s back. I don’t know all, though. Just everything that happened here. By the way, a CrossFit gym is like a bunch of gossiping girls. You won’t be able to do something in the eight thirty class and not hear about it in the six o’clock class. And vice versa.”

  Gee whiz. I hoped that I didn’t do anything too embarrassing and make it to where everyone heard about it.

  “Everyone back from the bathroom and ready to go?” came Taos’ lovely, deep-timbred voice.

  “Ready, Coach!” Maria cooed.

  I wondered if she was just trying to piss him off.

  My guess was that she was.

  I narrowed my eyes at Taos’ pained expression.

  He looked annoyed that he even had to coach her.

  And I decided, right there and then, that I was going to beat the hell out of her in the workout.

  Taos grinned slightly at something that a young girl who looked more than a little frightened said to him up front, and I couldn’t help but grin myself at his smile.

  Then he started pointing a remote at a clock, and I felt sick to my stomach.

  “Everyone find a rower!”

  Then I was on my rower, next to my sister, about to do my first workout in a very long time.

  And I hadn’t even been nervous or scared or even thrown up once.

  Hell yeah.

  I could do this.

  Taos didn’t realize it, but he was helping me.

  His wife’s drama. His smile.

  His voice.

  They were all…

  “Go!”

  I hadn’t worked out in two years, and it showed.

  By the time I was a minute into the workout, I felt like I was going to throw up.

  By the time I was two minutes into the workout, I knew that it wasn’t a matter of if I was going to throw up, but when.

  I kept glancing over at Maria, who looked like she was breezing through the workout.

  But still, I kept myself in front of her.

  By the last minute of me doing the workout, I was on empty.

  The moment that I did the last rep, I headed directly for the door that led to the outside area behind the gym.

  I kept walking until I got to the grass and promptly threw up into the weeds.

  The moment I did, I felt a thousand times better.

  Face flushing, I turned around to see Taos staring at me from the gym door.

  He gave me a thumb up as if to ask if I was okay, and I gave him a weak one in reply.

  But even that was a lie.

  I might feel like shit.

  I might want to melt into a pile of questionable liquid underneath my feet.

  But I’d just worked out.

  I’d just worked out for the first time in two and a half years since my assault.

  I was… euphoric.

  That, and I beat Maria.

  Worth it.

  It was on my way out of the gym with my sister fifteen minutes later that Taos caught my eye. “You’ll be back.”

  Not a question.

  Not even a statement.

  A demand. One that I was more than willing to obey.

  CHAPTER 3

  Be a badass with a good ass.

  -Madd CrossFit T-shirt

  TAOS

  The white-haired woman turned slowly, her long curls brushing the tops of her butt cheeks, and looked at the puddle of blood with a glowing sense of horror on her face.

  She didn’t know that I’d done it for her.

  She didn’t know that…

  Brrrrring.

  I frowned and glanced at the phone, pissed that I’d had to stop that particular scene.

  “Hello?”

  My terse words felt like sandpaper in my throat.

  I’d been up all
night, and it was now three in the morning.

  “Taos.”

  I would know that raspy, perpetually pissed-off-sounding voice anywhere.

  “Hey,” I greeted. “What’s up, Chief?”

  The chief sighed. “Long story short? There’s been a few murders that I’m worried about. Seriously worried about.”

  I felt my stomach sink.

  “What’s going on with them?” I asked, not able to help myself.

  I’d been a detective at the police department in town for ten years after I’d gotten out of the Army.

  I just couldn’t help myself from wanting to know. My brain was wired differently.

  I just saw things, patterns, and inconsistencies, that other people didn’t see.

  That was why the FBI had tried to recruit me. Twice.

  However, I’d stayed with Paris PD and Chief Wilkerson because I didn’t usually buck from tradition.

  “Bad shit,” Chief Wilkerson grumbled. “I know that you’re not here anymore, and I’ve left you alone for a year. But shit. This one is getting at me. I need you to look at the case notes. I just… something doesn’t sit right with me.”

  I looked at my current work in progress. Then at the time on the clock. “Now?”

  “I’m at a crime scene now,” he said. “The fourth one exactly like this.”

  I knew what that meant.

  We might have a serial killer on our hands.

  “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” I stood. “I need some coffee because I haven’t gone to sleep yet. And some pants.”

  Chief Wilkerson sounded like he’d had a laugh ripped right out of him at that.

  “I’ll wait.” He paused. “The body’s been dead a while. Fifteen minutes, or thirty. Won’t make a fuckin’ difference.”

  I looked at my watch and grimaced.

  I had to be at the gym at six to teach a class.

  That meant that I had three hours to sleep. Or I would have, had I not had to go do this.

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  And I was.

  It took me two minutes to get to the house, which fuckin’ sucked because that meant that there was a murder taking place not even a couple of blocks away from me.

  Parking my vehicle in the front of the house—a house that looked like it’d been built just recently seeing as it still had red dirt instead of grass along the side of the road between the sidewalk and the road—I got out.