Page 54 of Fractured Fear

Attempting to leave my hormones in the dust, I increase to an all out sprint. They stay with me, but now this feels like a race. A race I cannot let them win.

That numbing burn spreads through my legs as I push myself faster. I have reached that point when the brain isn’t sure you can keep up with the speed you’re going, but I will not let myself faceplant on the asphalt in front of two drop-dead gorgeous men. Talk about embarrassing. I’ve done enough of that in front of them. The tally doesn’t need an additional mark.

We’re all struggling for air when we stop at the entrance to the gym. Zane brings his hands to his head while Rio bends over, rests his hands on his knees, and wheezes out, “You’re trying to kill us, aren’t you?”

“What gave you that idea?” I pant with a self-satisfied smile.

“No one likes cardio, but you practically begged us to come with you and then you run like your pants are on fire the whole way here. I don’t want to die young. I still have many good years ahead of me,” Rio rasps.

“What?” I blurt out. “I didn’t beg—” When I look at Rio’s face, I realize he’s teasing me and I roll my eyes. “Hilarious. Okay, well I’m going inside. I’ll see y’all later I guess.”

With reflexes I should have expected, Zane snags my hand, preventing me from walking away. “You think we’re just going to leave you here?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you have to go to work?”

I really need them to go. My workout needs to be distraction free, and I need to feel the sting of my fists connecting with the bag to chase my demons away.

“Not at six in the morning. My captain may run the station like a drill sergeant, but he’s not unfeeling. We adhere to normal work hours.”

Rio raises his hand. “I’m self-employed, so you’re stuck with us for now.”

“Oh…That’s good…” I fumble over my words trying to come up with more excuses for them to leave, but before I can put together an argument, Zane holds the door open and gestures for me to go ahead of him.

With my defeat accepted, I go inside.

Joey is right where he always is and greets me as he does every day. “You look like shit.”

Finally, something normal.

“And you look like a shriveled up dick.”

Joey does a double take and drops the paperwork he was sifting through at the front desk. Storming over to me he shouts, “What the fuck happened!”

Taken aback by his outburst, it takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about my banged up face. Not wanting to draw more attention to my bruises, I play it down. “I’m fine. It looks worse than it is.”

“Don’t lie to me, kid. You’re a shit liar. Now what happened?”

“It’s no big deal. I swear I’m okay.”

Joey’s eyes snap over my shoulder to Zane and Rio who have been standing back and observing the exchange.

“Who the fuck are you two?”

Zane steps forward. “Detective Zane Kingston.”

“Rio Flores.”

“Why are you hanging out with a detective and a tattooed bad boy? What’s going on?”

Zane snickers at Joey’s observation of Rio.

I sigh and surrender to the fact that Joey won’t stop until I give him the truth. “There was an incident when I got home from the bar the other night. But I’m fine. I fought him off.”

Joey looks me up and down, assessing my injuries. He still looks pissed as hell but says, “Good. Does he look worse than you?”

“I’m not sure. He grabbed me from behind, but I scratched him pretty good, took my knee to his face, and kicked him where the sun don’t shine.”

“Attagirl,” his brief smile warms my heart. “I’m proud of you, but you need to go back home and rest.”

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