Chapter Four
He’s staring at me. My heart pounds and the sound of blood rushes through my brain. Everything around me filters out. The noises of the gym, the machines clanging, the people laughing. And the two men fighting in the ring. All I see is Joey. For a moment, the grip of anxiety slips when he almost trips over.
Joey is so put together, so strong and fearless, it’s kind of hard to think of him doing anything as normal as tripping up.
This is a long time coming, I know that. I’ve been too nervous to face him.
A lot of it is to do with not understanding why he helped m. But some of it is to do with the fact I’ve had a crush on Joey Ferguson for a while. I could never act on it, not with… him around. I have not uttered his name once since it all happened.
I’ve admired Joey from afar, and tried not to freak out the times when he talked to me.
He looks amazing. He must have had his hair done because in court, it was longer, with curls showing. It’s shaved again, not close to the scalp, probably enough to be rough to the touch. His tight sleeveless top accentuates his arms, which I would struggle to get two hands around. And those abs. Those endless, hard abs I’ve seen in all their glory many times when he’s been working out or fighting in the ring.
Joey is the kind of man that exists in fantasies, not real life. For a fighter, he has a remarkably perfect face with his beautiful sky-blue eyes and dark lashes that frame them. His nose is straight, with just a slight bump on the bridge. I’m sure I remember Jenna saying he’d had surgery after he broke it once in a fight. His lips are full and dark red, like he’s been using them.
Thoughts of what for have my cheeks flushing.
Brushing some hair behind my ear, I glance nervously at the receptionist, but she is busy on the phone, not interested in what I’m doing. Come on Megan, get yourself together. He’s just a man.
A huge, muscled, attractive, sexy man.
I blow out a breath and move towards him. Joey stays still and I imagine he is used to women walking towards him. The look on his face is unreadable, but the closer I get, the more it softens. His eyes rake over me, cataloguing. I’m sure he’s remembering how I looked the last time he saw me.
The cuts and bruises are all gone now. I’m left with scars, some physical, most mental, but I’m working through it.
Brooke found me a therapist who specialises in helping women who’ve suffered domestic violence. I didn’t resist. Despite everything, I’m smart enough to know I need help.
One thing she has helped me work on is accepting help from people around me. When I told her about Joey, she prompted me to think about why I hadn’t reached out. She never questions or pushes me, which is what I like about her. She says just enough to make my mind work through the issues I’m dealing with.
Thanking Joey for his help is one thing I should have dealt with weeks ago. The money may have been given back to him, but he had no way of knowing Brooke was going to win my case. He did that. For me. No one has ever done anything like that for me before .
Brooke got all the charges against me dropped, but Joey kept me out of a prison cell that day. And he hasn’t asked for anything in return.
I have to tilt my head back when I get near, he’s so tall. I’m five foot seven, but he is huge both in height and width. Despite that, there is nothing intimidating about how he is watching me. When he’s in the ring, he must scare the shit out of his opponents, but right now, he shows nothing of the fighter in him.
Sure, he’s apprehensive, not knowing what to expect, but I’m not scared of him. I try to channel Jenna and pull up my big girl pants. I almost hear her in my ear, cheering me on.
She’s always been a big supporter of Joey, even though Adam pulls a face every time she mentions him. None of us knew how kind-hearted he was underneath all those muscles.
“Hi,” I manage, my cheeks flushing even hotter.
Joey dips his head in greeting, and I wring my fingers together.
“It’s good to see you back in the gym,” he says before I lose my nerve and run away.
“Well, I’m not here to work out. Yet. I am going to come back. It’s always been the plan, but I… Yeah, I am going to come back.”
Joey lets out a quick breath, one side of his mouth ticking up in a grin. “You have nothing you need to thank me for, okay?”
“How can you say that?”
“Easy,” he shrugs. “It was the right thing to do. You needed help, I could offer that. So I did.”
“It’s that simple?”
Joey looks over my head and around at the people working out. His eyes linger on something, and I glance in the same direction. It’s the sign. Sam’s edict and the one Jenna told me about the first time we talked. No flirting with the female members.
Why is he looking at that? My lips part as I imagine what it could mean, how it makes me feel, and then he turns back to me.
“Do you want to get a cup of coffee?”
“Aren’t you working out? ”
“I can work out any time,” he grins. “But if you’re busy.”
“I’m not busy,” I blurt. A tiny part of me, one I’ve tried not to let the lid off and scream too loudly, says I can’t do this. But another part, a stronger one, one that the therapist has been helping me work through, reminds me I was making myself better before he found me again.
I was becoming stronger, independent, worthy. And I need to get that back.
In my own time.
Joey isn’t asking for anything, just a cup of coffee. He’s given no indication of wanting something else from me. In fact, he’s been so respectful I’ve often wondered if he is into men. I’d chastised myself for that. It’s more likely he isn’t into me. But I guess Sam’s warnings are well ingrained in the long-term members and fighters here.
A fissure of nerves runs through me. Can I do this?
“It’s just coffee,” he says, his voice gentle. “Although I don’t drink caffeine, I’ll get a green tea.”
I’m not sure what it is about that, but it makes me laugh. I picture the big bad MMA fighter with a China cup, his pinky finger sticking out. And with that imagery in mind, I agree.
We walk to the coffee shop down the block from the gym. I don’t miss how people stare at Joey as he strides along beside me. He’s slowed his walk so I’m not struggling to keep up. I can’t help but send surreptitious looks his way. I’ve never been close to a man like him before, a man this size. Yet, I feel comfortable, safe. He’s not too close, and he has made a conscious effort not to touch me.
He’s respectful and aware of my situation .
I’ll never get used to all the people who know about my life and what I endured. It is part of the reason I’ve struggled to come back to the gym. I’m scared of how people will react to me.
Jenna is still apologizing, but it’s not her fault. It’s not even Adam or BreakNeck’s fault. The press would have reported on it no matter who I know, or who else is involved.
Adam never looks at me like I’m at fault either. Sure, he was terrified for Jenna, but the last few times I’ve seen him, he’s been fine with me. I apologized, but he told me there was no need. He is glad both of us got out of the situation.
After getting a seat, Joey goes to place our order. I watch him as he waits at the end of the counter, my eyes trailing up and down his body. He is a work of art. I’m not the only one noticing. He doesn’t seem to be aware when he walks over to the table and sets my drink in front of me.
His green tea is in a large white mug, with the tea bag string hanging over the side, not a small one, but it is dwarfed in his large hand. I thank him and he settles in the chair. I wish I’d gone to a booth where he would have had more room.
“So how are things?” he asks.
“Good. As well as can be expected, I guess.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re okay.” He takes a sip of his drink.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice two women at a nearby table staring at him. Joey follows my gaze, and a crease mars his brow, but he looks straight back at me. I wring my hands in my lap before I realise I’m doing it. Joey’s eyes drop in that direction. I stop and lift them up onto the table.
“Erm, I know you said you don’t want me to say this, but I have to. It’s important to me that I thank you for what you did and I’m sorry that I didn’t do it sooner. So, thank you, Joey.”
Joey nods, his face is stoic and I’m not sure what to make of it. He’s always been friendly in the past. He jokes around a lot and has a good relationship with Jenna. Right now, he seems like a different person .
It has to be me. He doesn’t know how to react to me. It’s something I’m encountering a lot. No one ever knows how to talk to the woman who took a beating from her partner and stayed. Maybe he is wondering why I didn’t leave.
I want to tell him I did. I found the courage, and I moved two entire states away from my home, my job and what little family I have. For six months, I was safe and felt like I could get my life together. Michael didn’t bother looking for me, initially. I didn’t change my name or anything, but I didn’t let anyone who Michael may speak to know where I went.
He took enough from me. I didn’t want to lose my identity too. When he got bored, he came looking, and he found me in a nice apartment, with a good job and happier than I’d been in years. He couldn’t stand that, so he stayed, so he could take it all away again.
“You alright?”
My mind catapults out of the terrible memories and refocuses on the coffee shop, on the look of concern on Joey’s face as he leans his elbows on the table. I nod, trying to control the trembling of my hands around the cup. The surface of the dark liquid vibrates, like someone has thrown a stone into a calm lake.
“Sorry, sometimes I just…”
Joey tilts his head. His voice is soft when he speaks. “It’s over now.”
My brow creases, not expecting such compassion from a guy like him. He uses his fists all the time, it’s how he makes a living. Yet, I’ve never felt scared or uncomfortable around him, or the other fighters at the gym. There is something different about them, nothing like Michael at all. My mind can separate the two, but it’s still hard not to spiral at the thought of anyone hitting someone else.
Something I am going to need to get over, and quickly, is being able to tolerate the things that go on in everyday life. I don’t need to put myself into situations that are going to trigger me, but I have to know how to defend myself if the need ever arises again. I never want to be in the position I found myself in these last few years. Ever again.
“Joey,” I speak, my voice not as confident as I wish it could be.
“Yeah?” He still has a normal look on his face. There’s no pity, he’s not tiptoeing around me so as not to spook me, like everyone else has been around me.
“I want to come back to the gym.”
“That’s great. Fitness is important.”
I smile at him. He means that. “I don’t just mean to work out.”
One brow lifts, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s waiting for me to continue.
Taking a deep breath, I look straight into his eyes and tell him what I’ve been thinking about for the last two weeks.
“I want you to train me.”