The Trainer

by Shey Stahl

  Silas started yelling, trying to collect himself and giving his bodyguards a verbal bashing over not protecting him. That’s when I felt Destry’s stare on me.

  I wouldn’t look at Destry, scared maybe, even though I could feel his eyes on mine, contrite and somewhat sincere. I didn’t look because if I did, and found his eyes that I missed so much, I would no longer be dust I felt like when he found that article. I’d be lifeless because I knew how bad I hurt him.

  His stare was challenging, incredulous even as he stared at Silas who was threatening to sue him for assault. It meant nothing to a guy like Destry.

  “Fucking sue me, you piece of shit!” He growled turning away from him and then turned to me. “Come with me.” He whispered, his voice strong, biting back so much.

  When I didn’t reply, his voice came stronger, his hand reaching out for me as the bodyguards helped Silas off the floor. “I’m not asking you, Tallan. Come with me right now.”

  “Why?”

  His control was gone. He was pissed and more so than I’d seen in a while. It was the result of me. “Because. We need to talk and I’m not doing it in a fucking bar or around him.”

  We were out on the street now, a black truck with dark windows parked half on the street and half on the sidewalk. “Get in the truck.” I knew then he wasn’t asking me. He was demanding I go with him. There was no way I was staying here.

  “Fine.” I said, trying to appear casual. “Since you’re asking so nicely.”

  My mind was racing with thoughts, from him, to Silas, to Marcus. At least I knew the truth now and the way it happened sucked. I’d spent years wondering and now I had the answer. One I’d never considered. But I had one.

  I had no idea what Destry was about to say to me but I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be good.

  When I was inside the truck, he looked over at me. “Stay here. I’ll be right back. Do not move.”

  His warning was so polite but there was no way I wanted to go in there anyway.

  My thoughts raced again as to why he went back. I know the cops were called, surely we’d need to get out of here…and fast.

  An unexpected punch that catches a person completely off guard. The term sucker punch dates back to 1947 in the sport of boxing.

  Destry returned to the truck ten minutes later, his breathing just as heavy as it was inside. I wanted to ask what he did but by the blood on his gray t-shirt that hadn’t been there earlier, he got in another fight, or finished one.

  The drive to his apartment was quiet, no music, nothing. Streets were empty, houses dark, and businesses closing down. At the stoplight, I snuck a peek at him, and his stare was forward, never yielding. Given his mood, I was nervous I had caused more drama he didn’t need. I probably shouldn’t have called him but I knew he was my only option.

  Honestly, I needed to experience tonight. I had to. If I didn’t, I would have never fully moved on from Silas. I would have constantly been wondering if there was still anything there between us.

  With one hand on the wheel, Destry grabbed my purse from me, dug out my phone and looked for a number. When he found what he was looking for, he held the phone up to his ear.

  “Jared? Yeah… it’s me, Destry. I have Tallan… yeah… I’m takin’ her back to my place… ok.”

  And then he hung up and tossed my phone back at me, never bothering to put it back in my purse. It landed on my lap and then fell onto the floorboard.

  Like him, I made no attempt to retrieve it. Not only was I exhausted, physically and mentally, I was shaken. He parked in the parking garage below his building and turned off the ignition. “Jared said he’d come get you later.”

  “How did you know where I was?”

  He didn’t look at me as he spoke. Instead his eyes were on his keys in his hand. “I followed you.”

  That’s all that was said before we got out.

  The elevator doors slid open and we both walked in, silent. As soon as we were inside the elevator of his apartment building, I felt like I should rock back and forth. Cry until I had nothing left and then maybe I would be okay. But it was all bullshit. I wouldn’t be okay because I had put myself in that position and let the one thing that I had overlooked get away. I looked at him then, my vision blurring.

  “Why are you crying? You put yourself in that position.” Shaking his head, he stared at his feet. “I fucking warned you that’s all he wanted from you.”

  I wanted to say something snarky right then. But I had nothing. “I had to know.”

  He frowned and looked at me like he wanted to say something more. I waited—nothing. He swallowed, his eyes intense, maybe too intense. Feeling controlled, something flickered behind his eyes, but he blinked, and it was gone. And then, in typical Destry fashion, he laughed bitterly. “I hope it was worth it and you got the answers you needed.”

  “Fuck you.” My voice seemed desperate for him to listen to me, though my words and my tone were clearly not insinuating my level of desperation, but he wasn’t hearing any of it. Or maybe he couldn’t listen to me. Maybe he still doesn’t care enough to. Tears stung my throat.

  There seemed to be a silent challenge between us. Destry didn’t need to be loud to get his point across, though he could be at times, he did it in his own intuitive way. I knew, without a doubt, he was quick to stand up for himself.

  Destry spread his arm, as if he was inviting me to, his voice thick with sarcasm I knew him well for. “Go ahead, baby.”

  “That’s not what I meant, asshole.” My voice was escalating again, my heart ready to beat out of my chest and throw itself on the ground before him.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You call me to beat up pretty boy for you and I’m the asshole?”

  In my mind, the conversation was far from over, but for Destry, it wasn’t.

  A scowl settled over his face as he crossed his arms over his chest when the elevator doors opened on the seventeenth floor. “There’s the fucking door then.” His words hit me leaving a sting against my skin.

  I lost it. I was so pissed at him for acting this way when he didn’t know the entire story. Or even wanted to know it. Would he even care at that point?

  I looked at him so furiously hurt that he wouldn’t listen that I was scared my voice would break and I wouldn’t get out what I needed. I could have told him about Marcus right then. I could have.

  I choked out a breath as another round of tears started. His intensity returned at the sight, his body stiffening.

  He looked up at me then, his brow scrunched when I walked out of the elevator and down the hall to his apartment. I had no other place to go right then and felt safe with him, believe it or not. “You never planned on telling me, did you?”

  “That’s not true. I planned on telling you about the article. I did.”

  I don’t know why but he truly seemed surprised and didn’t say anything.

  When we got inside Destry’s apartment, he said nothing to me and my anger was starting to take over. He made me come here so he could treat me like shit. That’s exactly what he was doing. Revenge. I slammed the door behind me, which got his attention. He looked back at me, and I smiled, trying that condescending one he was so good at.

  Destry set his phone, keys, and wallet on the kitchen counter and then looked over at me again. “What’s the matter, honey?” He was taunting me with the curve of his lips and the smirk that touched his eyes. He was being vindictive.

  “Don’t be an asshole, Destry.” I threw my purse down, not caring if it spilled out, slamming the door shut with my foot. When I looked around his apartment, it was evident this last week hadn’t been easy on him. Around twenty long necks were scattered around the living room along with a hole in the wall by his bedroom door confirmed it hadn’t been easy. “I’m sorry I went there. I wasn’t trying to upset you.” I moved closer to him, but kept my distance. “I had to know.”

  “Yeah, I know.” His irritation spoke in his stance and the way his eyes held mine as he p
aced the living room, his hands, red and swollen, clasped behind his head as though he was trying to control himself. He still hadn’t calmed down. Before I had too much time to react, he stopped pacing and hovered over me, his eyes watchful of my reaction. “You made that perfectly clear. All you want is your story.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” I sighed, feeling like I was suffocating with him that close, that angry, and that defensive for something he didn’t understand. Quickly, I brushed away the blame-worthy tears streaming down my face that I couldn’t hide any longer and took a step back.

  “But you did,” Destry said, keeping his eyes on mine. His anger was flaring. That part I understood given how the night had unfolded. “You wrote that article. My story. That’s a story. You went to him to get your answer. That’s an ending to your story.”

  I was losing my patience with him. He brought me here to treat me like shit. “My God, you’re so frustrating.”

  “Yeah, well ...” He finally stepped back creating a few inches of distance, his hands raised at me. “You’re a bitch.”

  “I am not.” I glared trying to let him know this wasn’t exactly helping us move past this.

  “Yep, you’re a bitch.”

  “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to push me away. Yeah, you came there to help me but you had no intention of giving me a chance to explain myself, did you?” I gave him a glare that went unnoticed.

  “Shut up,” he said, keeping his eyes locked with mine.

  “Okay ...” I gave my own condescending smile. “Have it your way.”

  Destry pushed against my shoulder, and I fell against the couch. He smirked as he walked toward the balcony but added, “Finally.”

  I wasn’t finished with our argument, though, and had a few things I needed to say, so I followed him. He sighed when I came outside. “Haven’t had enough?”

  I did what I thought was necessary for the situation. I kicked his shin. “Don’t be a fucking jerk about this. And why are you acting like this?”

  Destry’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes immediately darkened and looked at me, the anger still heavy and oppressing in his tone. “Why not?”

  “You don’t even know what happened?”

  “It was pretty fucking clear what happened in there if you ask me. But you know what, go ahead,” he said, with another chuckle. “Tell me what he did so I can go back and kill him.”

  I wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t because I knew there was some seriousness to his threat. “That’s not nice, Destry. You’ve got some serious anger issues. Don’t act like you have some kind of vengeance against him.”

  “Whatever,” he grunted, kicking his legs up onto the railing and leaning back in the plastic chair that was out there. Beside him I noticed a dozen empty beer cans scattered around. His swollen bloody hand rose to run the back of his hand of the cut on his cheek that Silas left. “I’m not angry. I’m just pissed off.”

  Like there’s a difference.

  “Fine, Destry, take me home then. If this is the way this shit is going to go, take me home. I don’t want to be here.”

  “So what?” Destry snapped, jerking his legs from the balcony to sit a little straighter, his posture tense as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “You fuckin’ hate me now because I was trying to protect you from being raped by a fucking douchebag or being angry because you used me to write a story about me?”

  “I wasn’t going to be raped, Destry.” Losing a little steam, I sat down beside him in the other chair next to his. “You’re exaggerating.”

  He was quiet for a moment and I looked out over the city and the view he had of Elliott Bay.

  “It sure as shit looked that way to me,” he mumbled. “You’re so fucking naïve. What the fuck did you expect when you went there? Did you think he just wanted to talk? He’s a fucking rock star, Tallan.”

  “Why do you even care? You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t give a shit.” I asked. “I don’t need you to protect me. You’re not my father.”

  “Yeah, sweetheart.” He gave another scornful glare my way. He called me sweetheart just to pour salt in the wound his words left. “You can be goddamn sure I’m not your fucking dad. Why did you even call me?”

  Just as I was about ready to walk away, he grabbed my hand when I stood, the fire in him simmering down slightly. “Tell me, why did you call me to rescue you? Why not Jared?”

  I shrugged.

  He let me walk away and gave me some space. In the twenty minutes he sat outside, his temper had calmed as did mine. I sat on his couch, still in my dress, ready to start crying again when I looked to my phone to see a missed call from Jared.

  Destry came back in so I set my phone on the table.

  “Why did you come then? If you don’t care, why did you come?” The words hung in the air, apprehension suffocating me.

  Destry picked up the beer on the coffee table, diverting his eyes from mine. He didn’t make eye contact, and I knew why. After taking a drink, he set the bottle down, still no eye contact. His expression remained the same. His eyes focused on the ceiling when he finally sat down beside me. “I couldn’t just leave you there.”

  “Why couldn’t you have just read the article?” My words came out choked as the tears flowed again. He knew now that I was crying. There was no hiding it.

  He looked at me, demanding truth. “Just be honest. You used me.”

  “No I didn’t. I decided to write the article to help you. Deep down I knew you weren’t who they said you were.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “You’re right… I don’t. Because you wouldn’t let me. I know the guy who treated me like shit and I know the one who fucked me. Two totally different people if you ask me.”

  “Tallan ...” He grimaced. He couldn’t look at me. “You look at that shit from my angle. You came to me looking for a personal trainer. You started asking questions. You asked me to fuck you. And you wrote that article and knew personal shit about me I hadn’t told anyone else. How would that look to me?”

  “But you didn’t even read it.”

  Nothing was said for close to a minute. His palms pressed to his face, digging at his eyes, and then he groaned, dropping them beside him. “No. I didn’t. And I still haven’t. I won’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Why do you think?” I didn’t like where this was going, and he knew it by the way his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “I don’t care what it says. You broke my trust. You should have told me in the beginning you were writing it.”

  I should have done a lot differently. I shouldn’t have trusted when Silas called me after five years. I should have been more curious as to why and how he got my number. Instead I was star-struck in a way. I should have been concerned when Marcus pushed me to write the article. I look for details for a living but yet I missed that one.

  I also should have told Destry in the beginning.

  My heart felt like a knife had been stabbed through it, and it was trying to beat around this foreign object, and this vital organ was simultaneously breaking in two, yet still trying to beat around the very thing that was ripping it apart. I felt guilty and rightfully so.

  “I need to leave.”

  Destry shook his head. “No. You can’t leave.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because. I said so.”

  I intended on going into the bathroom to run some cold water over my face but then I stayed in there. I ran to his bathroom and slammed the door shut. Spent the entire night in there. Crying. It may have been weak but mustering any other type of emotion at this point was futile. I went after a man who was in my past, all the while forgetting about the man that was in my present and was sure to be my future, that is until I totally screwed everything up.

  It was nearing morning, I assumed by the light coming in from the small window, when Destry pounded on the door. “Open the door. I have some things to say to you and I’m not going to say them to y
ou while you’re crying on my bathroom floor and there’s a fucking door between us. Get out.”

  He’s such a dick.

  “Nah,” I said, trying really hard to act like he hadn’t ripped my heart out. It wasn’t working though. “This works well for me. You should be used to distance, you know.”

  He surprised me, yet again, when his voice came louder, his hand hitting the door. “You wrote a fucking article about my life and our experience together. At least let me explain some things to you.”

  Hmmm. So he read it. Finally.

  “Well, you better say it through the door. I’m not moving.” I was more embarrassed than anything. No way did I want to face him right now. Sure, I wanted him to read it but now that he had, how would I face him?

  “You better get up.” He said, some amusement sparking in his tone. “I’ve never cleaned that floor. Imagine the germs on it and I can’t completely say I’ve hit the mark every time I’ve used the toilet.”

  I nearly vomited. I’d spent the entire night crying on that floor.

  He let me sleep on it? Bastard.

  Just a second later, I was standing there before him while he leaned into the door frame with no shirt on.

  See, he’s just teasing me. I knew it.

  “Put your shirt on.” I demanded, as if I had any verbal power over this man, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “No.” He shook his head, flexing his muscles. Bastard.

  I looked away. “Then I’m not talking to you.”

  “Why?” In amusement his eyebrows lifted.

  “Because I can’t focus when you don’t have a shirt on.”

  “Fine. Take your dress off.” Destry moved, shifting his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t focus.”

  “Why?” My eyes lingered over his chest muscles.

  Jesus, why do you have to be so sexy?