Page 1 of Fight For Us
Chapter 1
Olivia
The sound of fistsstriking padded vinyl put me into a meditative state.
Punch, grunt, shuffle. Punch, grunt, shuffle.
I could see why Mia loved Krav Maga.
Pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion quieted my mind. Baking did too, although it was easier to imagine my unknown abusers face on a blocking pad than on a cake. Each punch made me feel more empowered. Knowing I could put up a good fight stifled my anxious intrusive thoughts.
Punch.
Just try and touch me now.
Crouch. Punch lower. Hit him where it hurts.
I’m no one’s victim.
Sidestep. Punchhigh.
Never again.
“Why do you look like you could commit murder?” Kendahl asked, lowering the practice pad. I heaved a breath into my chest and wiped a bead of sweat from my brow. Kendahl gave me a second before handing me the pad so she could take her turn practicing high and low punches.
“I do not.” A distant memory from years ago flashed through my mind. The one that always tended to show up when my emotions ran high. His saccharine voice as he handed me a drink. “Let’s go somewhere to talk.”I didn’t need a mirror to know I was scrunching up my face in a scowl.
“There it is again.” Kendahl’s blond messy bun flopped as she got into position. “Please tell me that look isn’t for me.”
I forced my focus on the present, locking that memory away in its neat little compartment in my head.
“It’s not. Come on, punch lady. We only have ten minutes of class left and I need another round.” As exhausted as I was, pent up stress still had my chest tight and jaw clenched. Work earlier in the day was a mess. I spent an extra hour cleaning up after hurricane Wes.
“On second thought.” She grabbed the pad again. “You go ahead. I can picture Coby’s face on the pad tomorrow night.”
I stood in place. “Shit, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m being selfish. You go.”
“Something wrong, ladies?” Shawn came up beside us, wearing his black assistant teacher T-shirt. “Need help on your form?”
I glanced at my sister’s boyfriend, thinking for the millionth time since I met him that the guy resembled Thor. “We’re good. Just trying to decide who gets to let off more steam tonight.”
“Ah. Got you.” He nodded and ran a hand through his sandy hair. “I’ll let you get to it.” He set off to help another pair looking mildly afraid.
“I think we scared him.” Kendahl grinned. “I’d be scared of us, too. Look at my mean punching skills.” She punched with dramatic flair while I held in a laugh.
Class ended with both of us breathless and coated in sweat. I watched Alex run into the gym from his spot in the waiting area and get his usual fist bumps from the other students before heading over to the practice dummies and throwing some punches of his own.
“How’s the new place? Unpacked yet?” Kendahl asked while we collected our stuff from the cubbies. I mentally groaned. “There’s that face again. Bad question?”
“No, it’s fine. I love the new place. It’s a dream to be beachside, even if I’m discovering a new hatred of sand.” How and why does it get into every single crevice? Kendahl chuckled as I went on, “We’re somewhat unpacked. I should give myself more credit since it’s only been a few weeks since we moved across the country. Between learning the ropes at work, coming here a few nights a week, and entertaining Alex, I haven’t had much time to make the place feel like home yet.”
“It’s been a lot of changes lately. Give yourself some credit. Not many people would move to Florida in August.” She pattedmy arm before pulling her hand away, laughing. “Wow, you worked up a sweat.”
“You saw me. Of course I did.” I peeked over at Alex and found Shawn had joined him and was showing him the proper way to punch the lifelike dummy. Shawn’s face lit with a grin as he watched Alex go at it.
“Anyway,” Kendahl continued, “How about I come over this weekend and help you unpack? And before you argue, no, I do not have anything else going on. I could use some girl time too. You know, conversation where we’re not choking each other.”
I broke my gaze away from Alex and Shawn, focusing back on my friend. She had her gloves tucked under her arm while she attempted to fix her bun. I reached out and took them to help her out. I wanted to argue that I’d be fine. That I didn’t need the help. My dumb pride and all. But who was I kidding? It’s been weeks and I was still fishing underwear out of suitcases.
