Chapter 1 #2
Similar to our previous sessions, I took my time warming up, making sure my muscles were loose before putting power into my punches and kicks.
Oliver never touched me, preferring to coach from behind the mitts on my stance or posture.
Soon, his deep voice and the pounding of my fists connecting with the firm pads were all I heard, offering me a few precious moments of peace from the relentless negative thoughts that constantly ran on a loop in my mind.
Almost half an hour had passed when he dropped the training pads and inclined his head toward my water bottle. “Take a break.”
Sweat dripping down my temples and breaths coming in quick pants, I dropped my fists and stepped back, ever grateful for the breather.
“You’re getting better. You take verbal correction well and put effort into our training time. You’ve come a long way from the woman with two left feet who asked me to train her.”
“Thanks,” I breathed as I downed some water.
With the back of my forearm, I wiped at the few drops that clung to my lips.
“At first, I just wanted to feel capable of defending myself, but now, being here, going through the movements, it’s freeing in a way.
The movements, the sounds echoing around the empty space, help me zone out.
It’s helping me feel strong, not just physically but mentally too. Not sure how that works.”
Oliver nodded. “I don’t know how it works either, but I feel the same way when I train.
Which is why I’m here working the bag most of my days off.
” Hands on his hips, he turned in a slow circle, admiring his gym.
“I guess that’s one reason I rented the building and started putting together the small boxing gym.
The place has turned into my haven from all the messed-up shit going on outside those glass doors. ”
“It just needs a women’s locker room,” I commented with a grin as I checked the time on my phone. “Shit, I need to get going. I have a meeting with Brandon to update him on the scheduling software I’m creating and don’t want to go in there smelling like ass.”
Before he could respond, the front door opened with a grind of the metal hinges, allowing a gust of morning air to sweep through the space as his brother Kale stepped inside. The man froze when he saw me before continuing deeper into the gym.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Oliver called, dropping the training mitts to the mat. “I thought you were laying off the workouts until your knee healed?”
Kale hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah, I am, but I saw your car out front and just wanted to stop in, say hi or some shit.”
“Liar,” I snorted.
Releasing a frustrated groan, Kale ran a hand through his long, wavy hair. “I might have stopped in to see if there were any updates on that Jasper thing. Everyone in town is freaking out. Old man Murray thinks a bunch of devil worshippers possessed Jasper and made him kill himself.”
A soft laugh escaped as I started unwrapping my gloves. “That man needs to stop watching so much TV. Devil worshippers? In Anchor Bay?”
“‘That Jasper thing’ being his active murder investigation?” Oliver said. “You know I can’t discuss the details of an ongoing case and—”
Kale raised both hands in surrender. “I’m not asking for details. Just give me something, anything that will calm people down. Do you know how many theories and conspiracies I’ve had to hear since it happened? With being your brother and the best bartender in Anchor Bay—”
“So modest,” I chimed in with a wink while pulling on a pair of sweats over my tight shorts. It was one thing to wear the shorts while working out; a totally different level of confidence was needed for stepping outside the makeshift boxing gym.
Kale rolled his eyes and flipped me the bird before continuing.
“Help me out. Give me something to tell them and….” He trailed off as if recalling something before pointing at Oliver.
“Did you say murder? Fucking hell. I thought it was suicide or a stupid accident or something like that. Murder? Are you serious?”
Oliver pressed his lips in a tight line, clearly frustrated with himself for letting that detail slip. It was a known theory within the Uplift community that he suspected Jasper’s suicide was staged, but most of the Anchor Bay community still thought he’d taken his own life.
“Well,” I called out, making the two men look my way, “I’ll let you two handle this drama between yourselves. I have to go if I want to shower before that meeting.”
Mid-stride, I lifted my gym bag off the cracked concrete floor and headed for the front door.
Pausing next to Kale, I shoved his shoulder, making him stumble to the side.
“So, self-proclaimed best bartender in town, how about next time all of us girls are at Dave’s, please, please, please do not allow us to order duck fart shots. Last time nearly killed me.”
I dodged his return shove. “That had to do with the quantity of alcohol you and your friends consumed, not the type of shot, Juno. Next time, don’t order seven rounds.”
Just remembering that night, and the following morning, made my stomach roll. I was hungover for days following the emergency book club meeting Baylee had called.
Running out of time to get my much-needed shower, I waved goodbye to Oliver and stepped out into the fresh morning air.
Inhaling deeply, I allowed my eyelids to close for a few seconds, absorbing the peaceful moment before stepping up to my bike.
Gym bag secured in the small front basket, I wheeled it away from the wall where I had parked it earlier and hopped on.
Loose strands of hair fluttered along my neck as I pedaled down the nearly empty street.
Smiling wide, I tilted my face upward, appreciating the sun’s warm rays on my skin.
Summer in Alaska was stunning but short-lived.
Normal days were cloudy, misting and gloomy, which meant I needed to savor every second I could of the gorgeous weather.
So today, instead of driving my small SUV to the gym, I opted to bike even though it took twice the time to get there and back home to the Uplift compound.
The term compound made it sound like a cult, but the community was far from anything like that.
We were a tight-knit found family who all worked for Uplift in some capacity and also lived within the self-sustaining community.
It was its own small town with a main street lined with cabins that Brandon and Carl had built and continued to build as the company and community grew.
There was even a small general store that their wife, Amy, ran along with a farm with horses, cows, and recently added goats.
Everyone had their part, not only in helping the community run but in their jobs at Uplift.
We had Miles and Aiden, whose adventure specialties were anything ATV or dirt bike related.
Liam was our resident cowboy, taking clients out on trail rides that ranged from kid-friendly to advanced riders only.
Ethan was our survivalist who took clients off-grid for days, teaching them how to live with only a knife and flint.
Langston ran everything that was water-based, while Dax and Finley were our resident pilots for rescue missions and client expeditions.
There were also others who lived outside the community but were one of us, like Oliver, Anchor Bay’s deputy sheriff, and the recent addition, former LA detective Hudson and his family.
After spending the first thirty-two shitty years of my life never feeling like I belonged or was wanted, this place and these people were exactly what I needed to feel alive.
But I couldn’t complain too much, because if my early years weren’t so terrible, I wouldn’t have been as reclusive, turning to computers and online gaming as refuge, which led to my career as a programmer and web designer.
Was I a computer geek? Yes, I was. Did I love playing online video games? Again, guilty. But since living in Anchor Bay, I’d not only balanced that isolation side of myself by socializing with my new friends—and liking it—but had come to understand that my geeky side wasn’t bad.
Hell, it could be worse. I could be addicted to drugs or online gambling, right?
Since settling into my new home, I no longer lost hours consumed in an online role-playing game or coding a website for a client.
I was happy and actually living a real life, not a virtual one.
And that terrified me.
Guiding my bike onto the road that ran through the quaint downtown area, I couldn’t help the heavy dread that settled in my stomach despite the colorfully painted buildings I passed.
If I could count on one thing in my life, it was that nothing good lasted, which meant this amazing chapter of my life, the first one where I actually smiled more than cried, would end.
And I really, really didn’t want that to happen.
But considering how the past usually predicted the future, my luck would run out.
Soon.