Chapter 10
Jimmy: Where are you?
My stomach sinks. My heart beats like a speeding train.
I scan the benches as soon as I leave the housing office. People must see the look on my face because they give me worried glances. My heartbeat returns to normal when I don’t recognize Jimmy or one of his friends. There are times I think he will pop out of nowhere.
Ari: What do you want? I told you to leave me alone, Jimmy. We’re done.
Jimmy: You know we could never be done. You can’t throw away three years. What she says means nothing, Ari. She means nothing.
I have deduced that Jimmy can’t take rejection very well. A guy like Jimmy isn’t used to people telling him no. Ever since he went pro after a year of college, he is used to everyone doting on him, giving him whatever he wants and listening to everything he says. He is the two-time MVP for the Flyers. No one would believe me if I said he was violent.
He’s called me incessantly, threatening me if I don’t go back with him and won’t leave me alone.
I rush to my car without attracting too much attention, walking through the throng of people in the afternoon rush to the pep rally. Penn State has a football game, so the campus is full of students preparing for the game.
When I reach my car, I let out a sigh of relief and turn it over, ignoring the stares as I put it in reverse, and it screams out of the parking lot.
Jimmy: You can’t do this to us. I love you, Ari. I’ll prove it to you.
Please don’t. Leave me alone.
The nights I’ve spent alone, wallowing in self-pity, I spend thinking about my relationship with Jimmy. I’ve started seeing things in a whole new light.
The selfish way he was with me when he had sex. It wasn’t memorable, but I had nothing else to compare it to. It wasn’t like I’ve read romance novels or seen posts from women on social media when they write about finding love. When I was with Jimmy, it wasn’t explosive or heart-pounding. I was more self-conscious. Like I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t measure up to the other girls around him.
In a way, he made it seem like I was lucky to be with him. I remember the girls’ smirks when we hung out with the other guys on the hockey team. They would look at him like they knew something I didn’t.
It all makes sense, like puzzle pieces finding their way to where they belong, so I can see the full picture.
I was never beautiful in his eyes. I wasn’t what he wanted. I was convenient. Someone stupid to believe his lies. The one who swallowed my doubts because I was afraid of being hurt. I was foolish and blindsided to have fallen for his shit. Who knows how long or how many people he has screwed behind my back. What he is capable of when he doesn’t get what he wants with me .
I get to the gym after buying a water bottle at the sporting goods store. Javier had a spring water dispenser placed in the gym. I get thirsty at night in my car, and filling up the water bottle is more cost-effective than buying bottles of water. It is also a better option when I need to brush my teeth and rinse out my mouth.
A couple of guys are talking outside, blocking the door. A strong gust of wind blows the leaves against the building.
I spot Javier’s truck and smile when I see Rey’s black Range Rover parked beside his. I could give Rey the gift I bought him. It isn’t much, but I hope he finds it useful. I want to thank him for paying for my lunch last week. He refuses to speak to me, but it’s worth trying. I want to show him how grateful I am. It was the biggest meal I had, and I was able to save the rest for later so I didn’t have to drive to the shelter that night.
Right before I walk inside, a guy steps in front of the door and holds it open. “Hey, you’re the office girl,” he says, running his gaze over me.
“Yeah,” I say vaguely.
The guy next to him gives me a grin and then drops his gaze to my chest. I’m wearing a fitted black sweater with matching leggings, but it’s like I’m wearing nothing in his eyes.
“I heard you’re new,” he says with a playful smirk, tilting his head to the side.
“Yes. I started two and a half weeks ago,” I say with a polite smile as I step inside from the cold wind. “My name is Aria, but most people call me Ari.”
The door shuts. “Let’s go, man. We’re going to be late,” his friend says, pulling him by the hood of his sweater. “You know they won’t think we’re serious if we show up late for our workout. We still have to change.”
But his friend ignores him and steps closer, snagging his bottom lip with his teeth. The way he keeps looking at me makes my skin crawl.
I feel heat on the side of my face. Like needles grazing my skin as I look away, wanting to get away from him.
He gives me one last run with his gaze, pausing between my legs and chest, and then slowly says, his lips carving in a nasty smile, “I’ll see you around, Aria.”
I walk away with my head down. When I get to the office, I shut the door. The thought of giving Rey his gift evaporates because I don’t want to go back out there.
I sit behind my desk, placing the sporting goods bag near the keyboard. My lips curve into a smile when I see an origami swan neatly placed near the tube of strawberry lotion I left. I pick it up, carefully inspecting the expertly folded paper.
The door swings open, and Javier walks inside, out of breath. “Nice,” he says to the swan in my hand. “Can you hand me the first-aid kit?”
I place the swan on the desk and quickly grab the first-aid kit bag behind me. “What happened?” I rush out, handing him the bag. “Is everything alright?”
He shakes his head. “My brother trains too hard sometimes.”
It feels like a brick fell on my chest, imagining Rey hurt.
“Is Rey hurt?” I ask, getting up and wiping my nervous hands on my thighs. “ What do you need me to do? Do I call for help?”
He lets out a deranged laugh. “Uh…no. It’s the other guy. He’s bleeding from his lip and eyebrow. I’m not sure if he needs stitches.”
He grabs antiseptic, gauze, triple antibiotic ointment, and temporary strips. I feel useless and want to help.
“Tell me how I can help, Javier.”
He grabs as many items as he can. I can hear loud voices coming from the ring in the center of the gym. “Grab some water and more gauze.”
I grab what he needs and follow him out to the ring. I freeze when I see the blood pouring down the guy’s face. He is sitting on a chair in the corner of the ring, and it’s the same guy from earlier.
“You wanted to get in the ring with the champ,” his friend says, shaking his head. “You can’t roll with the big dog if you don’t have the skills.”
“I wasn’t looking,” he counters, trying to wipe the blood and sweat flowing like a river down the side of his face.
“Come on, Mike, admit it. He got you good, bro. There was no way you could have blocked him,” he says in amazement. “He’s fast, and when he hits, it’s like a semi-truck moving like a freight train.”
“If it makes you feel better, he’s undefeated for a reason,” another guy says behind him.
Mike is breathless; he blinks twice, trying to get the blood from going into his eye. “I don’t know what the fuck is up with him. He doesn’t go this hard. It was like I was an enemy,” he says, looking at Javier. “What the hell got into him?”
When Javier steps into the ring, I can see Mike’s skin split open about half an inch above his brow. The corner of his lip has a nasty cut. The whole left side of his face is swelling.
Javier kneels to clean him up. “Don’t get in the ring with my brother if you don’t have experience. He only has two sparring partners when he prepares for a fight.” He looks directly at Mike. “Unless you did something to piss him off.”
I walk up and move to hand the water bottle, but a tall shadow emerges, causing me to place it on the corner to look up.
Rey’s chest heaves like a volcano, ready to erupt. I can see his ribs above his ab muscles contracting. Rising and falling with each heavy breath he takes. He pulls his gloves off with an angry snarl on his face aimed at me. I step back. He glances at Mike, and his lips curve in a malicious smile. I don’t know how they don’t see it. The satisfaction in his gaze for hurting Mike. It’s probably why he is the best in the sport. But only a person with a black soul would smile like that after inflicting pain on someone.
I look away but can feel his gaze breathing fire against my skin.
“Ari, the bandage,” Javier says with his hand out.
I fumble with the packet in my hand but manage to give it to him. After Javier patches up Mike the best he can, Mike tries to get up, but it takes three other guys to help him. I see bruises forming on the side of his ribs.
“What were you trying to do? Kill him,” I mutter, stepping back so that they have room to get Mike out through the ropes.
“One would think?” a guy says, standing beside me with a towel around his face. “He looks pissed off, but no one will ever know what is going through his head except maybe his brother.”
“Why is that?” I ask to know everything I can about the man who stole my thoughts.
“No one has heard him speak except two words after a main fight.”
“Why?”
Rey is the last one to step out of the ring. He still has that hard look on his face when he passes me.
“No one knows,” the guy says quietly. “He keeps to himself. I think it’s dangerous.”
“What is?” I ask, watching Rey walk to the locker room, throwing his boxing gloves by the bench near his headphones.
“To not know what he’s thinking,” he says in a low tone like it’s a big secret. “Every fighter that has gone in the ring with him doesn’t know if he is angry or hates them.”
“Do you think he is…crazy?”
I think back to the medical report he received in the mail, which I placed in his bin exactly as I found it.
“Angry and passionate, but I’m not sure about crazy. This doesn’t happen. At least not since I joined six months ago when they first opened. I don’t know what happened or if Mike pissed him off somehow. He said he didn’t do anything but wanted to feel him out in the ring. To know what it’s like to be in there with the best.”
I guess he found out. But I don’t say that.
After Javier drives Mike to the clinic to get checked out, I head to the office, trying to piece everything together. I think about what the guy said about Rey not speaking. Javier never mentioned it when he talked about Rey.
After three hours, I fill out an incident and injury report. The gym isn’t liable since all members sign a waiver. I lean back and look at the gift I bought Rey.
I turn the rod from the blinds and see Rey in front of the mirror with a jump rope. At his speed, it looks like he is inside a portal traveling through time.
The gym is almost empty except for four guys lifting weights. I grab the shopping bag and pull out the sweatbands I picked up for his wrists. I hope he will like them. He can put them over the wrists of his gloves to wipe sweat from his eyes instead of having to take his gloves off to get a towel.
I keep a safe distance and wait until he spots me. He slows the rope down when I smile. He holds the ends of the jump rope in one hand and gives me a “what the hell do you want” look.
I bite my lip, step close, hold the sweatbands in my hand, and motion for him to remove his headphones. When he takes them off, he raises a brow, annoyed that I interrupted him.
His veins stand out over his forearms. His chest is chiseled. He looks strong and powerful. I swallow nervously. “I wanted to thank you for lunch the other day. Um, I got these for you.” I hold them out to him. “So you wouldn’t need to take off your gloves, or…when you’re training, and the sweat gets too much, and you don’t want to stop to get a towel.”
I look up, but he doesn’t look happy. It’s like everything I just said didn’t have meaning. His eyes bore into me while he grinds his teeth. He looks at the sweatbands, and then his gaze lifts. I could see myself in the storm of his chocolate depths. I didn’t know why he looked so angry or why he was so cruel. Maybe I misjudged what I was giving him, and he found it mundane and stupid—a useless waste of his time.
There were plenty of times Jimmy hated it when I brought him something, only to find it in the trash or left forgotten on the couch. A shirt, something for hockey, a good luck charm. I didn’t make the money he did, and maybe I never would, but I tried with the money I had left from school or the odd summer jobs I got to make extra money.
I thought Rey would like it. It isn’t much, but how he looks at me tells me he doesn’t. It was stupid to think he would bother liking it. A man like him doesn’t need a pair of sweatbands from a homeless college girl he never wanted working in his gym in the first place.
After a few seconds, my stomach sinks. My chest feels like it was stabbed. He rolls his eyes and places his headphones back over his ears. He swings the jump rope, causing me to step back.
I drop my hand. “You hate it,” I say quietly, even though he can’t hear me through the loud music. “It was stupid.”
I walk away, blinking back tears like a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding .
When I get to the office, I’m glad it’s time to leave for the day. I grab my bag and hate myself for being naive. It’s why my parents sheltered me so much all the time, or maybe it was their fault for sheltering me. I wasn’t tough enough or smart enough to make the right choices.
I open my purse, pull out a desperately needed fifty- dollar bill, and drop it in Rey’s bin. Grabbing a sticky note, I write For Ari’s lunch and place it over the money and sweatbands. He could give them to someone who would appreciate it, but my pride won’t let him win.
My eyes fall on the origami swan. Anger has me gripping it in my fingers and ripping it apart. It’s stupid, maybe even juvenile, but it must have been him if it wasn’t Javier who left it. I want to destroy something the same way he does. He could make another. Hell, I’ll get him the fucking paper from the donation lounge at school.
Walking out, I almost drop my bag when I run into a brick wall. I look up to find two penetrating eyes rooting me to the spot.
Rey.
He doesn’t approve of me being here. I don’t know what I did to him, but I’ll stay out of his way.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly and move to leave, but he blocks me.
A stubborn tear escapes. I look up, and he walks me back to the office. The light automatically turns on.
“I need to get going,” I tell him. “It’s late.”
It’s late, I need to find a safe place to park. Food is out of the question.
I follow his gaze to the torn origami, the money, and the sweatbands I left in his bin. Not caring about what he thinks, I turn to go, but he grabs my hand, and slowly, before I have time to snatch my hand from his grasp, he wipes my tear with his thumb. I’m frozen under his touch .
He shakes his head slowly, but I try to tell him silently with my eyes that I want things to be different. I want us to get along.
He tries to hand me the money. He motions for me to sit at the desk when I don’t take it. I let out a sigh in defeat and take a seat.
He folds the bill into different sections as quickly as he can. After a minute, he places an origami heart of the fifty-dollar bill near the keyboard on the desk. It is impressive, and I’m sure he doesn’t think I would tear it up. He pulls out the gift and slides it over his wrists.
“You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to,” I rush out. “I wasn’t sure if you would like them, and if you don’t, I understand.”
He nods when he turns to look at me with them on. I instinctively rub my finger over the material, it feels like a soft cotton towel. They’re perfect on him.
His eyes lift, and I see something soft grow in them. There isn’t a glimpse of anger, but someone with passion—a heart. I can see it. The way he is looking at me right now is how women beg to be looked at—like you’re different, and words aren’t good enough.
I get up, causing him to take two steps back. He towers over me. He must be about six foot three, maybe taller. His gym T-shirt stretches over his chest muscles. The width of his neck looks like two of my thighs combined. Intimidating, strong, and powerful. But God, he is gorgeous. When he looks at me like that, my heart races. My mind begs for him to say something. I want to understand him. I want to hear his voice so I could imagine what it would be like if he said my name.
Just one word.
Instead, his gaze falls to my lips. In a flash, and all the energy is sucked out of the room. I pull my hand away, careful my fingers don’t graze his skin. Afraid he would retreat into his shell, worried that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
The office grows quiet. I hear his steady breathing and smell his masculine scent. A shiver runs down my body. My stomach clenches under his gaze. I’m attracted to him. I wish I could swim in his eyes forever, but I can’t.
He’s a fighter, and I’m a survivor.
My reality awaits me outside these walls, where it is cold and unforgiving.
We are two different people from different worlds, but no one has made me feel the way he does.