Gym Junkie

Home > Other > Gym Junkie > Page 9
Gym Junkie Page 9

by T L Swan


  He leans into the table. “Are you trying to piss me off? Because it’s fucking working,” he growls.

  “Brock,” I whisper. “I don’t like you. I don’t want to see you again. Stop calling me.”

  “Bullshit. Tell me the fucking truth and I’ll leave you alone.”

  My eyes fill with tears because I don’t want to say it out loud.

  The truth hurts.

  “Tully.” His voice falls softer as he sees my tears. “What is it?”

  “You make me feel dirty,” I whisper.

  His face falls.

  “I don’t sleep around.”

  He clenches his jaw angrily, his eyes holding mine. I can hardly see him through my now-blurred vision. “You’re only the second person I’ve ever slept with and you fucked me up the ass in a public bathroom,” I whisper angrily. “And I hate myself for it.”

  He takes my hand tenderly in his. “Tully,” he whispers softly. I stare down at our entwined hands and I just want to sob. I hate that I like his touch. I hate that he makes this all seem normal and okay.

  “Don’t, okay,” I cry as pull out of his grip. I stand so quickly that my chair falls back onto the floor. “Leave me alone, Brock. I don’t like the way you make me feel.” I leave the restaurant and rush through the front doors but, of course, he comes after me.

  “Tully, wait, we need to talk.”

  I turn towards him, furious that he has, once again, made me weak at the knees. “No.” I push him hard in the chest. “You said if I told you the truth you would leave me alone.”

  He tries to wrap his arms around me. I push him away. “Don’t fucking touch me!” I cry, completely losing control.

  His eyes hold mine, and I know he’s trying to work out how to handle this situation. He’s completely out of his depth here.

  I crease my eyes together to try control the tears. “I hate you for making me feel like this.”

  His face falls. “Stop it,” he whispers.

  “Go back to your whores, Brock.” I angrily swipe my tears away. “Leave me the fuck alone.” I turn and storm towards my work building.

  “Tully!” he calls out to me. “Tully, you get back here!”

  I put my head down and power walk away from him.

  I feel relieved I said it, but I have a sinking feeling about never seeing him again.

  To be honest, I’m just glad it’s over and I don’t have to think about it anymore.

  I blow out a breath and angrily swipe the tears away as I power back to my office. I walk into the building, take the elevator to my office, and find Rourke sitting at his desk.

  “Thanks a lot,” I shoot at him as I throw my bag onto my desk. “Where did you go?”

  Rourke looks at me, deadpan. “Excuse me. In case you didn’t notice, your Hulk of a gym junkie boyfriend was going to punch my lights out.”

  I roll my eyes and drop into my chair.

  “He’s fucking crazy, Tully,” he mutters. “He must be on steroids.”

  I pick up a pile of files, drop them onto my desk, and they land with a thud. “Well, you won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s over. I ended it.”

  He looks at me flatly. “Does he know that?”

  “He does now.”

  He frowns and gets this stupid look on his face.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Does he fuck as crazy as he acts?”

  I twist my lips and nod.

  His eyes hold mine.

  “And, your point is?” I ask.

  He shrugs and goes back to his work.

  “What?” I snap.

  “It’s been a long time since I saw a man get that passionate about anything.” He begins writing something down on his file.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I frown.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know what it means, but I know that I never saw Simon get the slightest bit jealous of you. We could go out all weekend and have sleepovers and everything.”

  I stare at him. “So?”

  “Well, that dude nearly ripped my head off just because I was sitting with you.”

  I stare at Rourke for a moment as my mind tries to catch up with his thought process. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

  “I’m saying I would give anything for someone to be that passionate about me.” He looks at me flatly.

  I screw up my face in disgust. “Then go to the gym and hang in the toilets, if you’re lucky, might come and fuck you up the ass.” I shake my head. “It would not surprise me one little bit.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Why are you so dramatic?”

  “Because I’m getting back with Simon and I don’t need this shit.”

  Rourke gets out of his chair. “Whatever.” He takes his files and disappears downstairs to the other lab. I turn on my computer and stare at the screen.

  Why the fuck did I change gyms?

  I walk out of the elevator in my building and up the hallway towards my apartment when a door opens. A girl with black hair comes out into the corridor. She’s wearing old fashioned, un-matching clothes. I saw her the other night when she was talking to a girl downstairs in the foyer. She’s quite pretty underneath her horrible styling.

  “Hello,” she says to me.

  “Hi.” I smile and walk past her.

  “I’m Meredith.”

  I turn to face her. “Hi, Meredith. I’m Tully.”

  “You just moved in this weekend?”

  “I did. Do you live in that apartment?” I ask to make conversation.

  “Uh-huh. My mother pays my rent because she doesn’t want me to listen to her having intercourse with her boyfriend anymore.”

  I blanch. What the hell? Okay, that’s just way too much information. She would be my age or close to it; at least twenty- four. Why the hell does her mother pay her rent? And why would she want to hear her mother having intercourse?

  Sick.

  I force a smile. “Really nice to meet you, Meredith. I have a lot to do, so I’ll see you later.” I turn and begin to walk down the hallway towards my apartment.

  “Tully?” she calls.

  I turn back. “Yes.”

  “Do you want to be my best friend?” she asks hopefully.

  “Erm.” I pause for a moment. What the hell? “You want me to be your best friend?”

  She nods eagerly. “I’ve never had one before. I ask everybody, but nobody wants me.”

  “Oh.” She must have problems. She looks so hopeful, smiling goofily at me.

  Empathy wins. “I already have a best friend. Her name is Callie, but you can be my friend too, if you want?” I shrug. “We can all be friends together.”

  Her eyes widen with excitement. “Really?”

  I smile, feeling like I’ve done my good deed for the day. “Yes, really.”

  She nods as she pretends to play it cool. “Okay, I’ll see you around.”

  I smile. “Okay.” I turn away.

  “I’ll see you around because now we are in a gang together.”

  I hesitate for a moment as I crease my face up. “Not really a gang, though, is it?”

  “More like a wolf pack?” she asks excitedly.

  “Sure.” Jesus, what the hell? “See you later then.” I turn... again.

  “Ah-wooooo!” she calls out.

  I turn to see she has her head back and is howling like a wild dog.

  “We could have a wolf call,” she says. “For our wolf pack.”

  I stare at her.

  “You know,” she adds seriously. “In case someone gets into trouble, we have a wolf pack call.”

  What the hell have I gotten myself into here? Does she think this is The Hangover movie? “See you later, Meredith,” I say.

  She howls again in response.

  Fuck me.

  I rush to my door, quickly dart in, flick the lock, and lean on the closed door behind me.

  What next?
/>   At 7:00 p.m. there’s a knock at the door. I get up to open it in a rush.

  “I have pizza and beer ready and I am at your service.” Callie smiles as she holds the pizza box in the air.

  I hold my hand out for her and kiss her cheek as she walks past me. “Come in.”

  She throws the beer and pizza onto my coffee table, looking around with her hands on her hips. “Wow, Tull, the place looks amazing.”

  I smile as I look around my new apartment. “I love it here, Cal. It’s closer to everything, and the apartment just feels so homey, you know?”

  She walks to the kitchen and takes out some plates before she comes back to the living room and begins to serve us our pizza. “Sorry I couldn’t talk today when you called. My boss is a huge asshole,” she says as she hands my plate over to me. “I’m going to knock him out one of these days.”

  I giggle. “That’s okay. I was just calling to have a meltdown, anyway. You dodged a bullet.” I take a bite of my pizza and frown. “Hmm, so good.”

  “Tell me what happened. Gym junkie had a ‘roid rage?” she says around a mouthful of pizza.

  I nod as I chew. “Completely. Grabbed Rourke, threw him out of the chair, and totally lost his shit.”

  “What did he say?”

  I crack open my Corona beer and take a sip. “He was carrying on because I wouldn’t answer his calls all week. I told him it was over, and then...” I shake my head in disgust.

  “What?” She frowns, falling serious.

  “I told him how he made me feel but now I feel kind of stupid about it.”

  “No, it’s a good thing. He needed to know the truth,” she assures me. “What did he say once you told him?”

  Knock, knock, knock.

  “Who’s that?” I mutter.

  “It might be him,” Callie teases.

  “I fucking hope not.” I answer the door to see Meredith standing in the hallway.

  “Hello,” she says, as if annoyed.

  “Hi.”

  “You didn’t tell me we were meeting up tonight?” She walks past me into my apartment.

  Callie frowns at me in question. “Oh my God,” I mouth behind Meredith’s back to Callie as she walks past me.

  “Hi, wolfy,” Meredith says to Callie.

  Callie stares at Meredith, and then her eyes rise to me in question.

  “Callie, this is Meredith.”

  Meredith smiles happily and shakes hands with Callie.

  “Meredith asked me to be her best friend today,” I say. Get the hint, Callie.

  Callie’s eyes flicker between the two of us as she clearly tries to work out the dynamics of what’s going on.

  “So, I told her we could all be best friends,” I explain.

  Callie fakes a smile. “You did? Fancy that.” She sips her beer.

  “Yes.” I stare at Callie as I try to maintain a straight face. “And Meredith thinks we should make a wolf pack now.”

  Callie chokes on her beer. “Excuse me,” she whispers through a raspy throat. “A wolf pack?”

  I nod and, unable to help it, I giggle. Meredith bounces onto the sofa and smiles happily, crossing her legs in front of her.

  If only I could read Callie’s mind. I can’t imagine what she’s thinking, but I know it’d be fucking funny. I need to explain myself a little more.

  “Meredith has never had a best friend,” I continue.

  Callie’s face falls. “Oh, really?”

  “And Meredith’s mum pays her rent for her so she doesn’t listen to her having intercourse anymore.”

  Callie’s face falls farther, and I can see her connecting the dots. “Your mum listens to you having sex?” She frowns.

  “No.” Meredith shakes her head. “I listen to her having sex.”

  We both stare at her as the horrific thought rolls around in our heads.

  “She’s good at it, too, because her boyfriend moans loudly,” Meredith adds.

  Callie’s eyes are the size of saucers as she tries to make sense of this weird person in front of us.

  Manners eventually get the better of her. “Would you like a beer, Meredith?” she asks.

  “No, thanks,” Meredith says flatly. “I can’t drink beer. It makes my vagina smell.”

  Callie’s eyes widen in horror.

  “Yeah, you know sometimes you just think, fuck, this pussy smells,” Meredith says casually.

  Callie stares at her, deadpan. “Can’t say that I do.”

  I can’t help it; I get the uncontrollable giggles. Who the hell says this shit?

  Meredith looks to me. “It’s not funny, Tully. It’s a real hot mess down there. No beer for me. Ask my mum how bad it smells.”

  Callie’s face pales, and I can see that she’s getting a really bad visual in her head as she holds her pizza up, mid-air.

  I burst out laughing.

  Meredith folds her feet up in front of her and smiles broadly as she looks between us. “So, what do my friends want talk about?”

  “Anything but your reaction to beer.” Callie sighs as she sips her drink. “Or your mother sniffing it.”

  I’m still laughing. “I agree. Anything but that.”

  It’s Friday afternoon. 2:00 p.m. to be precise, and I’m downstairs at the police station going through some evidence with one of the detectives, Martin. We’re sitting at his desk, each with a coffee in hand. I like Martin. We have an easy friendship. He doesn’t try too hard to be cool or funny, he’s just who he is. I’ve had a good week, I’m settled into my new apartment, and I have plans for the weekend with Callie and Rourke. It’s been seven days since I had my bathroom fling with Brock. I think I’m finally beginning to forgive myself a little.

  I guess it’s just one of those things. No matter how much I regret it, I can’t go back and change anything so, as Callie says, why beat myself up about it?

  Nobody else cares. Why should I?

  He wore a condom, I told him how I felt after it, and he obviously got the message because he hasn’t called me again since.

  Whatever the reason, I feel better about it, anyway. Maybe that’s just because I got a chance to say my piece to him.

  “There’s always a chance with the investigation that prior events will be brought up,” Martin says.

  “No, that won’t do. I need to see someone about it now,” I hear a familiar voice demand from the front reception desk.

  I know that voice. What the…?

  I turn and see Brock and his friend from the gym talking to the receptionist. Brock is asking to see someone.

  Shit.

  I turn in my seat so that my back is to the reception area, hoping he can’t see me.

  I stare at the computer screen in front of me as I eavesdrop on the conversation he’s having with the police officer at reception.

  “I want to know who was driving the police car with the number plate

  NGH 167 last night,” Brock states.

  “I’m sorry, sir, we can’t give that information out to the public.”

  “I’m not the public, I’m investigating a crime and have reason to believe that one of your officers may be involved.”

  My eyes widen as I listen in. Shit.

  “That’s completely out of line, and I can assure you that false accusations can and will get you prosecuted in a court of law. Now, please leave.”

  “Nope. I’m not going anywhere until I know who was driving that police car last night.”

  “Sir.” The policeman sighs. “I don’t even have access to that information.”

  “Who does?”

  “The person who does isn’t in again until Monday.”

  “Piss off.” Brock sneers. “Do you really expect me to believe that you don’t know who’s driving the fucking cars around?”

  I frown to myself, knowing that the officer is telling a complete lie. The vehicle information is in the back room for all to see. Everyone has access to it.

  “Do you feel comfortable about doing that?�
�� Martin asks, interrupting my thoughts.

  I glance over at him. Huh? I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

  “It’s in the printer now,” he says.

  I frown and glance over at the printer. What the hell is he talking about? Martin’s phone rings. He answers it and nods. “Can you grab that from the printer for me, Tully, please?”

  “Sure.” I stand and try not to face the front reception. I walk over to grab the paper from the printer and stare at it for a moment. Hopefully Brock’s gone by now.

  I drop my head, walk back, and slink into the seat.

  “Tully?” Brock’s voice calls out.

  I scrunch my eyes shut. Damn it. I turn and see Brock watching me. I offer him a smile. “Hi.” Shit, I can’t be rude, so I walk over to the counter.

  Brock frowns, clearly confused. “You’re a cop?”

  “Erm.” My eyes flicker to the policeman standing nearby us. “No, I’m forensics.”

  His face falls. “You’re a scientist?”

  I nod nervously. “Uh-huh.”

  He’s wearing a white T-shirt, blue jeans, and damn it, he looks so handsome I could cry. He’s the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.

  “You work here?” He points to the floor.

  I nod, unable to stop myself from smiling at the shocked look on his face. I wonder what he thought I did for a living.

  “Yeah, for a long time now. A couple of years, actually.”

  He and his friend exchange looks.

  “I’ve got to get back to work.” I smile at his friend. I think his name is Ben, if I remember correctly. “Nice to see you both,” I say casually.

  Brock frowns as he watches me. “Yeah. See you later.”

  I turn and go back to the desk Martin is sitting at. “I have to go upstairs. Can we finish this later?” I whisper.

  “Sure thing.”

  I walk over to the elevator and push the button so that the doors close. I exhale heavily once they do.

  What are the chances?

  It’s 6:00 p.m. when I walk out of work. I make my way over to cross the road, and I’m on the edge of the curb when and I look up and I see him, my steps faltering.

  Brock is standing under a tree, his right shoulder resting against the trunk.

  I freeze on the spot and he gives me a lop-sided smile before he comes towards me.

 

‹ Prev