crowd. The machine weight room is packed with meatheads chatting about protein powder and the proper weight increase for back day. The free weight room is filled with men and women alike posing in the mirror. The hallway leading back to the treadmill room is housing four teenage girls filming a Tik Tok, and as I begrudgingly climb on a treadmill, I’m regretting even coming here to begin with.
I run hard and fast, giving everything I’ve got, but my mind still wanders. The last month has drained me, and as much as I’d like to mentally blame Colton, I know the numerous crime scenes have also had an impact. Seeing a dead body is one thing, and I honestly think I can handle that part of the job, but it’s the backstory, the flimsy reasoning for the loss of a life that is stealing bits and pieces of me.
Dad told me working in this field wasn’t going to be a good fit for me, but I dug in my heels. I don’t like being told no or you shouldn’t do that. I changed my major to criminal justice from sports medicine after one simple conversation over an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine of all things. Police work looked fun, and I voiced that opinion. Dad grew more serious than I’ve ever seen him, reminding me that the real world isn’t like what we were watching. Of course, I knew it wasn’t, although hilarious, that show is completely ridiculous. But, he told me no, and I wasn’t going to let him stop me.
And look at me now, running on a treadmill, so frustrated I feel like crying because bad things are happening to people and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.
Hot tears mix with the sweat running down my face, and I nearly jump to the ceiling when a hand taps me on the shoulder. I look over without thinking, nearly losing my footing. Cannon wrinkles his brow, pulling the emergency key from the machine.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” I ask stupidly because it’s a damn gym. I already know what he’s doing here.
With another frown, he pulls the headphones from my ears. “Are you okay?”
I look around the room to find no less than half a dozen people glaring at me like I ruined their night. I let Cannon guide me from the room, and by the grace of God, the teens are no longer dancing at the end of the hall.
“Take this.” He offers me a bottle of water, and I chug it.
“Where’s Rivet?”
“Working. They left late last night.”
“And my dad?”
“With them in South America. Wanna explain why you’re trying to kill yourself in there?”
I try to hand him back the half-empty bottle, but he waves it off.
“Bad day at work?”
“Is that the answer or are you asking me?”
“Are you always this annoying?”
“Yes,” he deadpans as I unscrew the cap of the water and take another drink. “And you know it. Tell me what’s wrong. Boy problems?”
I sputter, spraying water on the commercial grade carpet at our feet. “Definitely not boy problems.”
“So what then?”
“Any chance you’ll just leave it alone?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “None, now spill.”
“Have you ever made a choice in life and realize it was the wrong one?”
“Many times. Every woman before Rivet was a mistake.”
I make a gagging noise. “I’m talking about like work or school, not sex.”
He winks at me, but there’s no sexual vibe to it. The man is madly in love with his woman, and even though I thought I had a crush on him in years’ past, there’s none of those feelings lingering around at all. If my face wasn’t already flushed from running, I know he’d be able to see how embarrassed I am for trying to kiss him that one time.
“I thought I’d be living in Denver after graduation.”
“You’re not going?”
He graduates next month just like I do, his degree coming from San Diego. He’s one of the ones who met the love of his life and changed his path to line up better with hers. This last year of his has been spent doing classes online.
“I’m working for Cerberus, and I don’t see that as a step down, more like a step to the left. I’m working in my field of choice, and every night, well most nights, I get to lay my head down beside Rivet’s. I’m a happy fucking man.”