9. Silas
CHAPTER 9
SILAS
I ’ve got Caleb locked up in a rear naked chokehold. I cinch my grip tighter until he taps my arm. When I release my hold on him, he rolls away with a groan and lies splayed out like a starfish on the mats. I rise to my feet while he sucks air into his lungs like he hasn’t taken a full breath for hours. “Fuck me. I thought for sure I had you this time.”
I laugh. “You got cocky and forgot your technique.”
“You fucker. I hate you. You’re not even winded.”
Shrugging, I say, “I’m always telling you to do more cardio.” Catching a movement in my periphery, I turn my head, finding an unexpected visitor. I’m smiling before I’m even aware of it as I walk over. “Gwen. This is a nice surprise.”
She stares up at me with those eyes I haven’t been able to forget since she walked out of my office. “Hi.” Her smile is tentative. “I hope I’m not interrupting your work.”
Before I can answer, Caleb jumps to his feet and cuts in. “Actually, your timing couldn’t be better.” He wanders toward us, and his gaze alights with interest when he looks Gwen’s way.
My teeth grit together. “Don’t you have some cardio to do?” I ask, hoping he’ll take the hint and get lost.
“I do, but I’m going to meet our guest first.”
Our guest?
She’s here to see me. Not that it matters to him. He’s an incorrigible flirt when it comes to women.
“This is Gwen,” I say.
She gives a quick nod toward him.
He smiles wide, hitting her with his pearly whites and offering his hand. “I’m Caleb. It’s nice to meet you.”
She doesn’t even see his hand as she angles the left side of her face away from him. “You as well.”
He drops his hand to his side. “I’d love to stay and chat, but as Mr. Grumpy here pointed out, I have some cardio to do.”
“Why don’t you start with a couple miles of running. Outside,” I suggest.
“Yes, sir.” He salutes me, then turns to Gwen. “If I die and you see it on the news, remember who’s at fault.”
“You will be for not taking your cardio training seriously,” I point out, watching him until he exits the building. I turn to Gwen and smile. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries. I’m the one who showed up unexpectedly.”
“You’re welcome anytime, but it feels like you’re not just passing by.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not really the type to stop in for no reason.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, then reaches into one of the back pockets on her cutoffs. When her hand reappears, she’s holding a small envelope. “This is for you.” She passes it to me. “I wanted to thank you in person for everything you did the other night. You not only saved Demi and me, but you kept me from getting badly hurt. I don’t really want to go into detail, but I’m still dealing with the after effects of a concussion I got last week, so had I hit my head, I’m certain the result would’ve been a bad one.”
I hold up the white envelope. “Thank you for the gift, but I told you before and I’ll say it again, you don’t need to thank me. What man wouldn’t step in to help?”
“I think you’re used to the tough guys you’re surrounded with here. In the real world, I’m not sure people are willing to help someone else.”
“I hope you’re wrong, but I can’t speak for anyone but myself. And as for the guys who train here, they better assist a person in need, or I’m not doing my job very well.”
“I thought you trained them to fight.”
“I do. But we also work on the importance of being respectful and upstanding citizens.”
“I’m impressed,” she says.
“Don’t be. I said we work on it. I’m not sure if they’re absorbing half of what I tell them.”
“Well, your actions show you lead by example, and that’s the most successful method of teaching others. Caleb seems like a nice enough guy, so he must be listening. And I doubt he’s the only one who is.”
Why is she mentioning Caleb?
Is she interested in him?
With how young she looks, he’d be a more suitable choice for her than me. But here I am getting ahead of myself. She flat out admitted she’s only here to bring me the gift card.
“Thanks. That’s nice of you to say.”
Her eyes open wider, imploring me to believe her. “I mean it.”
“Do you live in Charleston?” I ask, changing the subject. I’m not ready for her to leave yet.
While I have an opportunity, I’m going to take advantage and learn as much as I can about her.
“I grew up in Mount Pleasant and I’m back here for the summer.”
“Are you a college student, then?” I ask.
“Yes, I’m going into my junior year at North Carolina School of Design.”
Damn, she’s young.
“Design as in clothing?”
She shakes her head and grins. “No, I’m an art major.”
“Was that a dumb question?” I ask.
“No, not at all. You’d be surprised how many times I’ve been asked that.”
“Phew. I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
“The name is confusing.” Her gaze darts about the open space. “Do you own this place?”
I nod. “I do.”
“How long have you been in business?”
“A couple of years now.”
“You train competitive fighters?”
“Yes, for the most part. Some of the people who come here aren’t interested in competing but they still want to learn the skills.” I swipe my forearm over my brow to catch drops of perspiration before they can fall. Grappling with Caleb is a lot of work, and I’m hoping my deodorant is still holding up.
Of all the times for her to stop by.
But I’m glad she did. I had hoped to see her again but never imagined I would. She not only seems shy but admitted she wouldn’t come by without a reason. As much as I want her to think of me as a “reason,” it’s apparent I’m not.
“That sounds like an exciting career choice. Are you a competitive fighter too?” she asks.
“I was until a few years ago.” I don’t plan to elaborate.
“Do you miss it?” she asks.
“I do. Every single day.”
“Would it be rude of me to ask why you stopped?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I was in a car accident and sustained irreparable damage to my neck and back.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate.”
I laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, ducking her chin, as if she’s embarrassed. “I hope that didn’t come off as insensitive.”
“No, there’s nothing for you to apologize for. Life happens.”
“I’m beginning to realize that,” she says, making me wonder about the origin of the fresh scar on her cheek. Did it happen at the same time as the concussion she mentioned? And what was the cause? “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m sure you have work to do.”
“I’m glad you stopped in. I’ve been wondering how you were doing,” I confess.
Her dark brows rise. “You have?”
“Yes. I regretted not escorting you back to your vehicle. I should have.”
That’s not the only reason.
She stretches her arms wide. “As you can see, we made it safe and sound.”
“I’m thankful you did.”
“Take care of yourself, Silas,” she says, stretching her arm out.
When our palms meet, my fingers wrap around her much smaller hand, and instead of shaking, I merely hold on to it. “You too, Gwen. Don’t be a stranger.”
We stare at one another, as if there’s more to be said, but neither of us bridge the gap. I don’t want this to be the last time I see her, but it’s for the best that it is, which is why I bite my tongue and keep back all the words I’m dying to say.
Releasing my hold after a couple of beats too long, I instantly miss the contact. When she turns and walks away, it takes all my willpower not to call out to her. And once she’s out the door, I barely restrain myself from chasing after her.
Somehow, I manage to hold my ground and resist temptation, but I’m making a promise to myself right now… If the two of us ever meet again, I’ll take it as a sign I shouldn’t let her walk away so easily.
I focus on my breathing while the soles of my sneakers pound the pavement. Dove stays right with me, allowing slack in her leash. She doesn’t try to go after the other dogs we pass. Her obvious contentment as she trots along beside me for our usual three miles is my main motivation for running outside instead of on the treadmill at the gym.
We make the turn onto our street with the sound of Freddie Mercury singing about fat bottomed girls blaring from my earbuds. As we get closer to my house, I notice a dog owner allowing his Great Dane to take a shit in the middle of my lawn.
I pull an earbud out and pick up the pace of my feet, shouting, “Hey! That isn’t a fucking dog park.”
The dog owner’s head snaps up, and his eyes open wider as he sees my rapid approach.
He holds up a hand as if to stop me. “I’m sorry. He’s so big, he gets away from me.”
“That’s unfortunate, but I can’t have your dog shitting in the middle of my lawn. It’s not fair to her.” I gesture to Dove and she barks as if to agree.
He whips a waste bag from his pocket. “Don’t worry, I’m going to clean it up.”
“Yes, you are. But the point is he’s thirty feet into my yard. How’d he get so far in? Tighten up on his leash, man.” I shake my head and start up my driveway.
“I’m Dave,” he calls out in a friendly tone.
“Yeah, well, my name is don’t-let-that-dog-shit-in-my-yard-anymore,” I snap back at him.
But once Dove and I have climbed the steps to the porch, I give a quick raise of my hand. “I’m Silas.”
Caleb chuckles from the wicker couch he’s kicked back on with his legs stretched out in front of him. “I thought the poor guy was gonna piss his pants when he saw you barreling toward him.”
I shrug. “He shouldn’t let his dog roam in other people’s yards.”
“I bet he won’t now that he met such a grumpy fucker.”
“I doubt anyone would react any differently to a massive dog taking a dump in their yard.”
He gives a quick shake of his head and smirks. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“I wasn’t trying to intimidate him,” I say.
“I know. You don’t have to try. It comes naturally for you. Maybe it has something to do with you being six foot three and having that mean mug,” he says, referring to my fighting nickname. Known for the intensity I fought with, a sports commentator once dubbed me as having “the meanest mug known to mankind” and it stuck.
Gavin opens the door and steps outside with two beers in his hand. “Hey, I didn’t know you were home yet. You want one?” He raises a bottle.
“No, thanks.”
“Good. Now I can relax,” he says, lowering onto the couch.
“I ordered pizza from Pizano’s,” Caleb says. “It should be here soon.”
“Thanks. That sounds great.” I’m tired from the run and could use some food right about now.
“Don’t mention it. I charged it to your account,” he adds, grinning.
“What a surprise,” I say, undoing Dove’s leash and letting her inside the house. Walking across the porch, I drop into my favorite chair and rest the side of my foot across my knee.
“So what was the deal with the babe who came by to see you?” Caleb asks me.
Gavin sits up straighter. “Wait. What’s this about?”
I wave my hand dismissively. “It’s nothing.”
“I call bullshit. You smiled more in ten minutes than you have in three years.”
Did I really?
“Aww,” Gavin says. “Is this true, Silas? Do you have a little crush?”
Yep, and it’s not little.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about.” Feigning ignorance seems like the best plan.
“Come on. Don’t be a dickhead. Just tell us who she is,” Caleb presses.
“We’re here for you, bro. You know we only want what’s best for you,” Gavin adds.
“Her name is Gwen. A few nights ago, I stopped someone from mugging her and her friend.”
Caleb scoffs. “And this is the first we’re hearing about it?”
“Oh, I already knew about that,” Gavin boasts.
Caleb scowls. “What the fuck?”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
“I’m sure it was a huge deal to them,” Gavin says. “So Gwen came by to thank you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you make plans to see her again?” Caleb asks.
“No.”
“Did you at least get her number?” Gavin asks.
“No, I didn’t.” I hold up my hand. “And before you two start in on me, you should know she’s young.”
“How young?” they both ask.
“Junior in college young.”
Gavin looks up at the porch roof as he calculates her age. “That means she’s gotta be twenty or twenty-one.”
“Dude, that’s not so bad. She’s not a teenager,” Caleb says.
“I’m too old to pursue her. End of story.”
I don’t want to share any more details about Gwen with them. If all I’ll have is my memories, I’m going to keep them to myself.