turns to me, raising his brow in challenge. “You coming or what?”
“Fine.” The steps creak under our footsteps as we descend into the darkness below, making me wonder if they’ll fall any second now. “Seriously, if this is some kind of joke to you I’m going to…”
A switch flicks in the distance. Light illuminates the room, blinding me temporarily. Cursing silently, I blink a few times but it takes me a moment to regain my vision.
The space comes into focus slowly, and I turn in a circle to take it all in. “What is all of this?”
It’s not big or fancy, if anything the decor is minimalistic. Linoleum covers the floor, the walls are bare and it’s freezing inside. There is a treadmill and a stationary bike, a couple of benches and racks with different weights, and one lone punching bag hanging in the far corner of the room.
“Our private gym.”
“We were already in the gym,” I point out, letting my bag slide off my shoulder. I push it into the corner with my leg, moving closer to inspect the equipment.
“We were, and you almost died. Eaten by the belt.”
“It was just a small slip.”
Nixon is moving around the room. He’s behind me, so I can’t see his face or what he’s doing, but I can hear him clearly.
“A small slip that could have ended terribly. Besides, we aren’t here for the treadmill.”
I turn around to look at him. “What are we doing here?”
He grabs something from the hook on the wall and throws it at me. I almost drop it in surprise, but manage to catch it at the last moment.
Gloves.
I lift them in the air, looking at them warily. I’ve never been interested in boxing or anything that required any level of violence like that. I’m a peacemaker, not a fighter. Well, verbal lashing out not included.
They’re bigger and heavier than you’d imagine, their weight reminding me of the weight in my heart. Large and overwhelming. Like a wave ready to come down and crash over me.
How many punches can one take before being knocked down to the ground? Because that’s how I’m feeling right now. Like I’ve been punched repeatedly, over and over again, and no matter how hard I try to get back to my feet, it feels pretty pointless.
A lump of nerves forms in my throat, and it takes me a few tries to swallow it.
“This.” Nixon’s hand falls on my shoulder, and I lift my gaze to his. “This is what we’re here for.”
NIXON
Yasmin observes the gloves like they’re going to bite her. Different emotions cross her face, until they settle on one—resignation.
Fuck that.
Closing the distance between us, I put my hand on her shoulder. “This is what we’re here for.”
Those dark eyes lift, meeting mine. There is uncertainty in there, fighting with the storm brewing inside her.
Letting my hand fall down, I take the gloves out of her hand and start untangling the laces. Tucking one under my arm, I open the other and offer it to her.
I’m not sure what happened to get her so on edge, but whatever it is, I’m not letting her give up.
I noticed her the moment she entered the gym. Her face was all hard lines, her gaze set in front of her, not once wavering. People were moving out of her way, and it’s good they did because I’m not sure she’d have been able to stop. She was that lost to the demons that are haunting her.
“I didn’t know you box.” She slips her hand into the glove, and I help secure it, repeating the process with her other hand.
“I don’t.” Her brows furrow in confusion. “Well I did, I took Jade to some classes back when she started high school, but I couldn’t risk getting hurt so I had to stop. These are Maddox’s.”
“Jade boxing?” Of course that would be something to get her attention.
“Kickboxing actually, but she hasn’t gone since…” I run my hand through my hair, stopping before I say the words out loud. “Well, but yeah, she used to love it.”
Understanding dawns on her face. I don’t have to finish for her to know.
Before our mom was diagnosed.
Before the cancer started to steal the life out of her.
Before our family was torn apart.
Before I became a selfish bastard.
Before.
Just before.
Shaking my head, I push those thoughts to the back of my mind, forcing them into a box. This isn’t about me and my demons. This is about Yasmin. It’s about helping her