Chapter Eighteen
Fly
The clunk of the machines echoed in my ears as I entered the gym.
I’d missed the place just up the road from our home.
It was a private discreet gym, and the people who went there paid big money for that discretion.
There was an underground car park and it had fully tinted windows so high profile people could work out without prying eyes.
A few celebs were spotted training most days.
Not that I took notice of them, I was too busy trying to keep a low profile.
Limping over to a side door, I knocked, hoping to hell that Bella was inside. It only took a moment for her to answer, and when she did, her face lit up.
“Fly!” Gesturing me inside, she stood back. “It’s been a week. How is that le…?”
Her sentence trailed off when I entered, almost dragging the motherfucker thing behind me. Her face fell when she looked at me. It wasn’t a surprise considering the poor bandage work on my shin.
“What happened?” She tutted at me. “I strapped that up beautifully last time you were here.”
Settling on her bench, I took a deep breath and shook my head. “Don’t ask. I don’t know how much damage I’ve done but I’ve used it more than I should have.”
“Where’s your crutches? You were supposed to be using them for six weeks.”
Her disapproving frown was balm to my fraught nerves.
I’d been so worked up when leaving Brit, I had to come straight to the gym to work it out.
Except, the bandage kept falling off after Moth’s feeble attempt at re-wrapping.
I also knew that if Bella saw me working out without seeing her, she would ban me from her gym.
“I lost them.”
It wasn’t a lie. When Brit’s men had dragged me from the van, I’d left them in there. I could only assume that they had taken them before Ant had got back, because he hadn’t seen them either.
Frowning, she unwound the bandage, gasping when she saw the extent of the bruising around the wound. The stitches were barely in place, the puckered skin pulled and ugly.
“What have you been doing, Fly?” She went straight to her cupboard, grabbing sterile supplies.
“It’s a good job you're a registered nurse as well as a sports therapist.” Shrugging, I smiled, not daring to tell her that I'd been kidnapped, in a car crash, trapped in a wing of a cult leader’s mansion. Or that I'd had to run for hours to escape, lastly jumping into a river to finally be free.
Fucking hell, my life was a James Bond movie. I would make a good James Bond.
“You haven't been riding your bike, have you?” she asked, holding up the alcohol-soaked cotton pad.
Clenching my teeth, I nodded for her to clean me up. The sting radiated down my leg as she swiped the pad down the surgical wound, making sure to get into every sore part. Bitch.
“Are you done?” I asked as she soaked another pad.
A small sick grin crossed her face. “I thought you guys were tough as nails.”
Giving me a mock evil stare, she dug the pad into a particularly dirty part of the wound.
I'd tried cleaning it in the shower, but it had been stubborn.
I grunted and clenched my hands, screwing up my face against the pain.
It hadn't hurt this much when Brandon had run my leg over in the first place.
“I am tough.” I relaxed when she chucked the pads away and proceeded to dress the wound again. “I just don't enjoy having my torn skin gouged by a nurse lady.”
“Nurse lady?” She rolled her eyes.
I was going to call her a pretty lady, like I would've done before, except, it felt different this time.
We'd all enjoyed banter with Bella, constantly pretend fighting over who was going to win her over - none of us would, she was far too intelligent - but now?
Brit's face came into my mind when I thought of a pretty lady. Fuck.
“I've got spare crutches,” she said, taping the dressing and tapping my thigh. “Please use them!”
I didn't dare tell her that there was a chance that my leg had rebroken. It had been so painful after my kidnapping incident, I'd convinced myself it was. However, the bone inside had settled more now. I just needed the wound to heal.
“I wish I could ride my bike,” I said glumly as I climbed off the bench, taking the proffered crutches.
Pointing a finger near my face, she waved it. “No way! You are banned from riding your bike for at least another four weeks.”
“Four weeks?” I held tightly to the crutches to stop myself from swearing at her.
“Motorbikes are dangerous as it is,” she said, showing me to her door, “You won't be able to grip the bike properly and you'll lose control. Just… go do the exercises I showed you.”
Grumbling under my breath, I went through the door, turning when I was through. “Thank you, Miss Spoil my fun.”
“You're welcome.” She watched me as I strode away, as best I could on crutches.
She had been extremely trustworthy since we'd joined years ago.
We'd travelled around for a while after escaping from ‘The Reason' as Chad liked to call it.
After a while though, we'd needed roots, so we'd settled in a town that was close enough to the compound to carry out our vendetta but far enough away to avoid them.
“Fly.” Spider appeared behind me as I sat on a pec machine. “You good?”
Nodding, I put my arms on the machine and took a deep breath. Spider sat on the machine next to me and fiddled with his phone.
“Are you working out?” I asked. “If so, put that recent playlist on.” I gestured in the air, trying to conjure up its name.
Frowning, Spider sighed. He had never liked being told what to do, which I should've remembered. It was better to ask him to do something, rather than tell him. In this instant, he didn't put up a fight, instead just turning the music on and putting his phone down.
There was no one else in the room as we worked the machines, moving around the room together without saying much. I avoided any leg work and concentrated on my top half.
“You good?” Spider asked when I grunted on the bench press.
Shaking my head, I sat up and rubbed the sweat from my brow. “I've got something on my mind.”
“Do you mean someone?” He sat on the bench in front of the mirror and glugged some water, cursing when the band fell out of his hair and tumbled to his shoulders.
A woman over by the vending machine glanced over, smiling at Spider when he winked.
Most of the other patrons left us alone, especially when we were together.
Our tattoos, big frames and moody expressions put them off.
I'd always wondered why until I caught sight of us in the mirror once. Yeah, we looked like thugs.
“A couple of things, then,” I snapped, “And one is….”
“Hi Dicks!” Moth approached, slinging his gym rucksack on the ground near my feet. “I need a piss and then we need to talk plan of action.”
He wandered off, greeting Bella as she welcomed her next client. Although his sour-puss face hadn't lifted too much, there was definitely a tiny spring in his usually morose step.
Spider stared ahead, not really saying much. I cleared my throat to get his attention, using my thumb to indicate where Moth had just disappeared.
“Has it been all fucking and fairytales with them?” I swigged from my water bottle.
Spider shrugged with a sly grin. “Yeah, you could say that. When they weren't out searching for you.”
“Alia too?”
“Yeah, man, she blames herself for your kidnap.” Spider tied his hair up again. “Says that if it wasn't for her sick fuck ex, you wouldn't have firstly, been vulnerable and secondly, been at the warehouse that day.”
“Ssshhh.” I widened my eyes at Spider.
We had sworn not to talk about what had happened that night in public.
No cops had come calling apparently, which was good, but they would find Brandon's warehouse eventually.
And no doubt, someone would've registered him as missing.
Our hope had been that he told no one about his sick prison, so it wouldn't be associated with him.
“What are you bitches talking about?” Moth asked when he returned.
“Oh, just how you're pussy-whipped now,” I quipped, winking at him.
Giving me the finger, Moth sat on the pec machine and started some reps. “Stop worrying about me and how many times a day I'm dipping my dick and worry more about the plan on going back to the compound.”
“What now?” I blurted, my skin going cold. “Why would we do that?”
“To take out that son of a bitch for what he did to you.” Moth stared at me, his forehead creased and his eyes wide. “I thought you'd want that for you and Brittney.”
Her name hit me upside the head and I turned away from them, reaching for the weights on the floor.
I stood again, doing reps as I tried to push her face out of my mind.
It was the first time we'd been properly separated since before our captivity in the mansion.
Not having her close by felt fucking strange.
“I do.” My hesitation hung in the air. “But we need to follow our original plan. Chad is going to be on his guard right now. We need to go back to our list. Who's next?”
Spider and Moth glanced at one another. I ignored their shared concern, instead concentrating on lifting. It felt good to stretch my skin and tense my muscles. I'd got soft inside the compound and I was ready to get back to it.
“We've been too busy searching for your ass, and before that, Moth was messing around with whether or not to kill Alia.” Spider threw his hands in the air when Moth growled aggressively in his direction. “What? It's true. You were either going to fuck her or-”
“Shut the fuck up,” Moth spat, “or I'll-”
“What?” Spider taunted. “What will you do?”
Their semi-light-hearted jibing would get out of control if I didn't step in. Out of the four of us, these two were more like chalk and cheese, despite working on their music together. Well, Spider and I were at the forefront and Moth was the animation creator.
“How's the music?” I asked, fighting with myself about my latest revelation. “Any progress made?”