Page 78 of Whenever You Call

She shook her head. “You never think anything you do is a big deal.”

You have no idea.

We got out of the car and made our way inside; me leading, while she trailed not far behind, keeping herself close without holding my hand the way I wanted her to, even if that did make me a selfish bastard.

I waited for people to look up from their workouts—for their eyes to linger on Hannah for a second too long—but none of them bothered. They didn’t register our arrival. Everyone in that gym was there to fight their own demons, which made me relax as I turned to put her in front, placing my hand on the small of Hannah’s back, noticing the way she flinched a little before sinking into my touch.

I guided her to where Creed stood against a wall at the back of the gym, his arms folded as he studied the men and women in front of him. When he caught sight of us, he offered a small nod, a slight smile, and he tipped his head to the left, gesturing for me to take the door that led through to the private training room. I offered him a nod of my own, grateful when he never cast a glance Hannah’s way.

Once inside the training room, I locked the door and turned to see her already peeling the cardigan off her arms before dropping it to the floor like it didn’t matter.

“You ever done this before?” I walked over to the selection of boxing gloves and pads displayed on the wall, trying my damn best not to focus on the tanned sliver of skin that now sat exposed between Hannah’s high-waisted leggings and her flowy cropped tank top. Any part of her I caught a glimpse of, I savored, but that damn strip of skin would make me lose my mind if I didn’t keep my eyes off it.

“I’ve thrown a few punches,” she said. “I’ve held my own on occasion.”

I stopped in my tracks, turning to look at her with a raised brow. “Really?”

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“I didn’t have you down as the fighting type.”

“I was a lot of things before I became Cole’s timid little wifey.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute,” I said, trying to hide the growl in my voice. Even the mention of his name now made my jaw tick. If I felt this angry, I could only imagine what was going on in her mind.

Reaching for some gloves, I eyed them up, eventually choosing the size I thought would fit best before I walked back over to her and held one up so she could slip her hand inside. She pushed her tiny hand in, but I focused solely on her, waiting for her to expand on that particular story.

“I had a rough childhood,” she eventually said. “And with that comes a big attitude at various points throughout my teen years. Some girls once tried to make fun of me. I had to show them why that wasn’t a good idea. Back then, before I had money in my life, it was eat or be eaten. I chose to eat.”

“Damn, Hannah,” I blew out in a breath. “That’s kinda hot.”

“I was hoping for smoking hot, actually.”

“Goal achieved.”

A mad blush ran to her cheeks. “I’m a woman of many talents. There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet.”

“So, what you’re saying is, I should be on my toes when you start throwing punches my way in a minute.”

“I prefer not to hurt the people I like. You’re safe.” She slipped her hand into the next glove, and that tension was there between us again, unavoidable.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I said quietly before I broke eye contact and walked back to the far wall to collect the pads for my hands.

Several punch bags hung down from rafters, but I didn’t want her to have to use them. They were heavy and unresponsive. They wouldn’t offer her the answers she needed. They wouldn’t drive her to insanity, forcing every bad thought out of her mouth the way I could with the pads and nothing more than a few simple moves.

She needed to purge herself, but she also needed to let her agony out, too.

I only hoped that, however this went, I did right by her in the end.

Chapter31

HANNAH

“Son of a—” I gritted my teeth and pushed damp hair away from my forehead with my forearm.

Logan didn’t take my stink eye to heart. He just smirked and challenged me to keep track of him—to hit the pad this time when he moved instead of missing it. I’d have called him an asshole, but we both knew I wouldn’t have meant it.

KnowingwhyI was doing what I was doing made me feel like a performing monkey, but I performed anyway, willing everything bad and toxic inside me to pour out and free me from the tormented prison of confusion I’d found myself caught up in.

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