Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kip
Back to the Grind
I’m not an angry person. I’ve never been violent.
Not until becoming a vampire, that is. And not until Tyson showed his true personality.
Now every time I see him I’m filled with uncontainable fury.
How dare he call my Charlie a whore. Who does he think he is, trying to dictate who I can and cannot see? I’m so fucking done.
The entire way to work I’m fuming. I need to punch something. Preferably Tyson’s smug fucking face, but a punching bag will do for now. I think it’s time for me to look for a new place to live. This situation with Tyson is just not working anymore.
I have half an hour before my first client arrives, and I spend that time beating the shit out of a punching bag. Taking out all my fury and frustration on the leather bag. I’m drenched in sweat, and panting when my alarm goes off telling me that my client will be here in five.
I hate feeling like this. Out of control.
Unhinged. The only other time I really felt like this was when my parents died and I was in foster care.
Like then, the only thing helping me calm down is working out.
This is who I am, and definitely not who I want to be.
I need out of this situation with Tyson, and fast.
I chug some water, and shoot off a quick text to Charlie now that I’m not as wound up.
Kip: sorry bout this morning. he had no right to call you that.
Charlie: It’s not your fault.
Charlie: I don’t want to cause drama. That’s not my scene. Maybe I should avoid going to your place from now on.
Kip: fuck that. it’s my apartment too. i shouldn’t have to worry about my guests being treated like shit
Three dots appear, letting me know that Charlie is busy typing back, when the receptionist calls for me.
“Kip, Sean is here.”
The first couple of sessions with clients go alright. Management apparently told everyone I was sick, and that’s why I was out. Everyone keeps asking if I’m feeling any better. It’s kind of annoying, but I’m also glad that my manager and my clients don’t know the real reason for my absence.
When Tyson comes in for the day, it’s like the air in the room becomes twenty degrees colder. The anger and tension between us is palpable. I try my best to ignore him, but can feel his eyes on me throughout the next two clients I work with.
I’m working with my fifth and final client of the day when shit goes sideways. Bryant goes to pick up the next pair of weights, the fifty pounders, and as he’s about to start his first set, the one in his right hand slips, landing right on his toes. Bryant screams, and immediately I smell blood.
Fuck, okay. I can do this. Bracing myself, I will my fangs to stay hidden, and my bloodlust to not make an unwelcome appearance.
Luckily, I’m able to contain it as I rush forward, lifting the weight away from Bryant’s foot.
It’s then I notice that the handle of the weight has some type of slick substance on it, like lube or oil.
What the fuck? Why would there be oil on the handle?
This isn’t like the oil from someone's hand, but like someone literally drenched it in something.
I shake my head, refocusing on the problem in front of me.
“Shit. Steph, call an ambulance, please!” I yell out to the receptionist. I try to keep my voice calm. “Okay, Bryant. I’m gonna have you sit down on the bench behind you, alright? Paramedics are on their way.”
The paramedics arrive quickly, and determine that Bryant broke several toes, as well as several bones in his foot. They take him in the ambulance, and I’m left to wipe up the sweat and blood that is on the floor where Bryant’s foot was crushed.
“What the fuck is up with all these people bleeding around me while I’m at work.” I mumble to myself, scrubbing down the rubber flooring.
I feel Tyson’s eyes on me again. I make eye contact with him, and he looks at me blankly.
“Good job with that. Keeping your cool and all.” Tyson says without showing a hint of emotion.
“Thanks.” I reply, not wanting to interact with him any more than I have to.
Once the floor is clean, I bring the barbell set up to the front desk. “Hey, Steph, we should probably have management take a look at the cameras, and check out the dumbbells. This one is covered in some type of grease. That’s why Bryant dropped it.”
“Well, that’s weird. It’s like dripping off the handle, ew.” She replies, picking up the phone to call the manager. When she hangs up, she turns back to me. “I’ll clean this up, and Joe wants to see you in his office about the incident.”
“Okay, thanks, Steph.” I tap the front desk, walking past to step into the manager’s office. “Hey, Joe.”
“Hi, Kip. Take a seat.” He’s looks away from the camera feeds to gesture for me to sit.
“Listen, if it turns out someone actually greased the dumbbell, it’s going to be a huge issue for Pump Palace.
I know Stephanie said it was really oily, but are we sure it wasn’t just from something on Bryant’s hands? ”
“Joe, there’s no way. Like who would do that? Coat their hands in grease before lifting? Bryant is a regular here. He knows what he’s doing. And I am telling you, that dumbbell was absolutely coated in something.”
Joe sighs. “All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t be the first time someone has tried to pull something like this, I’m not saying here, but elsewhere, in order to sue.”
“You seriously think Bryant crushed his own foot for money?” I scoff. “How about we watch the footage and see what really happened?”
Joe plays through the footage, speeding it up. We watch through from yesterday, all the way through to when Bryant dropped the weight. At no point does it show anyone near the dumbbell racks, that is, not until Bryant picks it up to bring it over for his set. Fuck.
“No way.” I whisper disbelievingly. “Bryant would never do that…” Something is wrong here.
“Well, from where I’m sitting, he did.” Joe replies matter-of-factly.
“Wait, can we follow Bryant through the footage? Surely if he greased the weight or his hands we’d see it on camera.”
“Kip, his back was turned when he was at the weight rack. He could’ve easily done it then without being seen. Listen, I know you’re a good guy, and you want to see the best in everyone. But this time, I think you’re wrong. Just because you think you know someone, that doesn’t mean you really do.”
I guess Joe has a point there. I thought I knew Tyson for years, but it turns out I was wrong there too. My gut is telling me that Bryant wouldn’t do this, but the footage doesn’t lie, right?
What the fuck is going on at Pump Palace lately, and why is it always happening around me?
Charlie: I’ve been thinking about this all day…and I don’t want to make things weird but…do you think that maybe Tyson has a crush on you or something? That maybe he’s jealous of me because I’m with you?
Charlie: I just don’t get why else he’d be acting like this. Constantly trying to come between us.
I’m sitting on the couch, staring down at the texts from Charlie.
I keep rereading it. There’s no way, right?
Tyson is just mad that he lost his food source and can’t use me anymore.
That’s all it is. He isn’t into me. That’s ridiculous.
Tyson has only been with women since I’ve known him. He’s one thousand percent straight.
“Hey.” Tyson spooks me, plopping down on the couch next to me.
I flip my phone over, hiding my conversation with Charlie.
Tyson eyes me, looking from me to my phone. “That wasn’t suspicious as fuck at all. Chatting with your boyfriend about me?”
“Nope.” I pop the p, playing it cool. “What do you want?”
“Look, can we just talk, like friends? Like we used to? Seriously, since you’ve been seeing Charlie it’s been—”
I cut him off, my hackles already rising. “Oh, you mean since I found out you were feeding off of me without my consent, and because of that I was turned into a vampire against my will? Cuz’ that’s got nothing to do with Charlie, that’s all on you.”
“But Kip…we’re bros. I only did it because I knew you’d be okay with it. Bros helping bros, ya know? If you had done it to me, I wouldn’t be mad.”
“I don’t know how many times we have to have the same fucking conversation.
” I’m so exasperated with this fucker. “And I don’t know why you can’t get it through your stupid fucking head.
I am not okay with what you did. Had you asked me, maybe things would be different.
But you didn’t, and they aren’t. Your animosity towards Charlie makes no sense.
If you can give me one solid, legit reason you hate him, it might be different.
Although, I still would choose him over you. ”
“He just came in here and fucked everything up between us.” It almost sounds like Tyson’s voice cracks as he speaks. “It was you and me for years. Wing manning together, being bros and roommates. What we had was good. I had you and you had me. And now I’ve lost my best friend.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Great, is your boyfriend here again?” Tyson grunts.
I get up, walking towards the apartment door. “No, and even if he was, it’s none of your business. Grow the fuck up.” God, I wish he would just admit that this is his fault. Not mine, and certainly not Charlie’s.
When I open the door, Lisette stands on the other side.
“Hi, Christopher.” She says, her face hidden in her hood like usual. “May I come in?”
“Uhhh, yeah…sure.” I step aside.
“Thank you.” She looks around, spotting Tyson. “Oh good, you’re here too. I’ll make this quick, I simply wanted to give you both an update on the council situation.”
“Come on in, feel free to have a seat.” Tyson chimes in, his earlier animosity gone.
“No, thank you. I’ll only take a minute of your time.” She replies. “I wanted to let you know that the situation with the council has been cleared up. The members who were using their positions for their own gains have been removed. You two, as well as Charlie, should now be safe from their reach.”
The color drains out of Tyson’s face, and his smile falls. Odd. At the same time, I beam at Lisette.
“That’s fucking great!” I clap my hands together. “You got that cleared up super quick, Lis.”
“It’s Lisette, please.” She corrects. “And yes, once their little scheme was revealed it didn’t take long to stomp it out, so to speak. Anyway, that’s all the news I have. You should all be able to go proceed with your normal lives. Thanks for your patience with the matter. I’ll be on my way.”
Lisette leaves as swiftly as she came. Tyson sits still, looking off into space.
“You’re acting weird.” I comment, shutting the door behind Lisette.
This snaps Tyson out of his daze. “It’s fine, I’m fine. Let’s uhh…let’s continue our talk another time, yeah?” He abruptly stands up, walking back to his own bedroom.
What a weird fucking day.
Kip: nah, idunno. i think he’s mad bc he fucked up and wont admit it.