Page 84 of Lucky Hit

THIRTY-SIX

OAKLEY

Ifeel the familiar burn in my knuckles as I continue to take my anger out on the punching bag in front of me. The ceiling shakes from the force of my blows and for a slight moment, I wonder if the whole place is going to come collapsing down on me. Oh, the irony.

The potent stench of sweat is thick in the tiny boxing gym I had managed to find after having my heart ripped clean from my chest a few hours earlier. I needed to hit something, and it was either come here or get into a bar fight.

I never said it's a healthy coping mechanism.

I can already feel the aches building in my muscles, but it does little to slow my pace. I've lost track of how long I've been here. The only thing I know is that I've managed to lose the love of my life in the span of a few hours.

I haven't been able to stop Ava's words repeating over and over again in my head. Her voice, void of all emotion as she tells me she doesn't want to be with me anymore echoes in my eardrums.

My harsh breathing cuts through the silence and blends in with the sound of my fists as they collide with the swinging leather bag. Sweat soaks my t-shirt and I can almost hear my heart pounding. I slow my movements long enough to yank the wet material over my head before crashing my fist against the solid surface once again.

I would have given it all up for her. God knows I could have waited. I would have waited. All she had to do was ask. Why couldn't she just ask me? Why did she have to run away?

The slam of a door catches my attention. A tall guy walks towards me, and I groan loudly when I recognize him.

"Oakley?" He seems genuinely confused to see me here.

I drop him a nod. I can try to be civil. We are "friends" after all.

"Adam."

We share an awkward glance before he drops his bag a few feet away from mine and pulls out a set of boxing gloves. I watch curiously as he pulls them on and tightens them around his wrists. He looks completely relaxed as he takes a long swig of water and launches his first blow at his punching bag.

"I haven't seen you here before," he grunts.

"It's my first time."

I can hear his gloves slapping against the leather in an oddly calming rhythm and can't help but look over and watch him. It's obvious he comes here a lot. I come nowhere close to his impressive skill.

"How often do you come here?" I ask, not missing how his shoulders tense whenever I speak.

"Every day." He doesn't stop his dangerous assault on the bag. "Lately, it's been twice a day."

I'm not naive; I know what happened between him and Ava. My guess is that's why he feels the need to come to this shithole twice a day.

"Why are you here?" he grunts.

"Same reason as you," I mumble and throw a punch so hard it makes me hiss in pain.

He chuckles and takes a step back from the punching bag. He rips his gloves off and sits on the bench behind us. He pulls out his water bottle again and takes a long sip of it.

"I heard. Matt keeps secrets like a teenage girl." He pulls his shirt up to wipe away the sweat on his forehead and looks at me without his usual cocky grin.

I unwrap my knuckles and sit down beside him. "Don't I know it."

"If it makes you feel any better, she's probably regretting it already."

Although we haven't exactly been the best of friends, I can't help but feel an odd appreciation for the guy. It takes a lot to sit and try to comfort someone you can't stand.

"Thanks. I can't say I'm so sure about that," I sigh and lean back against the cold, cement wall behind us.

"I know we've never really seen eye to eye, but trust me, she's crazy about you," Adam says with a long, drawn-out sigh. "This is just what she does. You scare her."

I stare at him in confusion. The last thing I expected tonight was for Adam to be giving me relationship advice.

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