Finding Peace

by Emilia Finn

  “Love you,” he murmurs softly. The rest of us sigh, in love with their love, because it wasn’t that long ago they were both utterly devastated and heart broken. Now they have each other. Their souls other half.

  “Love you too. Lots and lots,” she replies between sweet kisses.

  I look at Kit as she watches them, then at Tink as she rolls her eyes and gets up off the floor.

  I love that these people forced me to love them. I don’t regret it at all.

  “Now go cook us some food.” She pats his shoulder and he chuckles.

  “Fine,” he grumbles. “You girls are so bossy. Don’t you realize I’m injured? Now I gotta slave away in the kitchen.”

  He steps away, scrubbing his hand along Tinks hair again and she slaps him away, then he grabs his phone from his back pocket, dialing and putting it to his ear. “Hey Pip, we need some pizza...”

  “Slaving away in the kitchen my ass,” Tink says, but Kit turns on her, a mischievous grin on her face.

  “What happened with Jon the other day?”

  “What?” Izzy asks, her doughy eyes snapping from Jim’s back and stopping on Tink. “What do you mean what happened? What happened?”

  “Nothing--”

  “I’m just saying,” Kit interrupts Tinks denial. “I saw you guys making out the other night.”

  “Jesus, you voyeur freak. Were you peeping through windows?”

  “No need. You guys were getting it on at his front door for ages before you went inside.”

  “Oh--”

  “My god!” I finish Izzy’s sentence. “This is epic. How long has this been going on? I thought you were all ‘I’ll never get with Jon, because I’m afraid of commitment’.”

  “I’ve never said th--”

  “Then there’s the sometimes handholding,” Kit adds, ticking off her case. “And the not spitting fire at each other. It’s…”

  “Weird,” Izzy finishes with a sour face. “I mean, I love my brother, and I want him and you together, because I think it’ll be hilarious--”

  “Don’t even go there,” Tink snaps. “Can we change the subject please? Let’s talk about Kit trying for a baby.”

  “That was cheap,” Kit says, still smiling at Tinks’ failed attempt.

  “Or Tina’s wanting to bang Aiden Kincaid brainless.”

  “No,” Izzy shakes her head. “She wanted him to bang her brainless, you dummy.”

  “Jesus, can you shut up!” I panic, looking toward the kitchen entryway. “Jimmy’s here.”

  “Don’t worry, he won’t overhear,” Iz says. “He’s talking to Pip.”

  “Besides,” Tink adds. “Are you or are you not moister than an oyster for that man?”

  “Casey!” I snap at her at the same time the others crack up laughing.

  Seven

  Aiden

  I know something you don’t know.

  I bang on Jim’s front door, slamming my fist down louder than needed, but it gives me a sick thrill knowing I’m disturbing his bitch ass over breakfast. “Jim! Let’s go. I know you’re in there. I can hear Bean too, by the way.”

  Swinging the door wide, wearing only boxers and carrying his shirt in his hand, his eyes are glinting and feral and I smile in success “What the hell do you want?”

  “Dude, put some clothes on already,” Jon snaps from behind me and Jack laughs.

  “Let’s go,” Bobby says from beside him. “It’s time to start working out again. You’re gonna get fat and Izzy will dump your ass.”

  “She’s already too good for you,” Jon adds. “You can’t get fat, that’s basically the only reason she’s still with you.”

  “Well, that’s not true.” Iz walks toward the front door and stops behind Jim. She loops her arms around his still bare stomach, sliding her head and shoulder under the arm he has braced against the door jam and snugging in tight against him. “I love you because you’re funny and you order really good pizza.” She noisily kisses the side of his chest, and green faced, Jon steps back onto the lawn.

  “Gag.”

  “Why are you people here?”

  I roll my eyes because it’s pretty damn obvious what we’re doing here. “We’re running. Put some shoes on, let’s go.”

  “I’m not running. I’m injured and want French toast.” He hugs Iz tighter against his side, kissing the top of her smug head. I have a feeling Iz is making breakfast. “Plus, you’re sick,” he tells me. “I don’t want your spewy germs.”

  “I’m not sick anymore.” I haven’t spewed in a full twenty four hours. “And French toast’ll make you fat.”

  “And you’re not injured anymore,” Bobby adds. “It’s been weeks. Your hole has closed up. Well, the one on your chest anyway. Time to hit the pavement again.”

  “But I don’t wanna,” Jim whines petulantly. “French toast.”

  He has about three seconds to get dressed and his shoes on, or we’ll drag him out and he’ll be running in his boxers.

  He knows this too, because he glares at each of us, even Jon, who’s ten yards away doing burpees on the lawn. Jim sighs, then stepping back and taking Izzy with him, without another word, he slams the door in our faces.

  Jack laughs at the closed door, then joins Jon on the lawn.

  Two minutes later, Jim comes out fully dressed and ready to go. “You’re all dicks.”

  “Don’t be soft, little brother.” I grab his hair, messing it up but he shoves me away, plenty of power behind his shove.

  He’s been off training for about a month now; he hasn’t lost much strength in his time off.

  “Let’s go.” Bobby pushes off the grass, leading the pack. We jog onto our fancy single lane road, moving slowly, letting our bodies warm in the early morning sunlight.

  We’ve done this a lot over the years; run together. We all tend to run separately every single day, but sometimes, and those are my favorite times, we run together. It makes an otherwise boring hour a lot more entertaining.

  “How was Bean’s night?” Jon asks Jim, and Jim’s sour face suddenly turns bright.

  “She did good. She slept nine hours straight. It was amazing,” he gushes as we hit the buzzer on the large motorized gates and we jog through.

  We stop on the other side, turning and watching the gates close. Making sure they’re sealed and the girls are safe, since they’re all there alone right now.

  We turn and head toward town, doing our security lap even though Kit and Iz are already inside the gates. We’ll run by Tink’s apartment, then past our empty houses to make sure we have no squatters, then past Mom’s.

  “When are you coming back to the gym?” I ask Jim a few minutes later as we hit our stride and our breathing evens out.

  “Dunno,” he grunts. “Suppose my lazy days are finished then, if you already have me running again.”

  “Yep.” Bobby pumps his arms out in front of him, hitting the air. “You’re fine. It’s time to get back. Get stronger. Don’t let that fucker slow you down.”

  “I know,” Jim says, contemplatively. “I guess I just don’t wanna leave Iz and Bean yet. That shit that went down… it was big, ya know?”

  Jon runs up closer to Jim, his teasing and bullshit forgotten. “We know.”

  “I feel like it was all just too much. Too close. I don’t wanna leave my girls.”

  “I get it,” Bobby says, slowing his steps then spinning, he jogs backwards, pacing himself in front of Jim. “Trust me, I get it. When Kit… anyway, we can’t put life on hold for too long. We deserve better than that. You deserve better than that. Besides, the girls will kick your ass if you baby them for too long.

  “Yeah, we tried babying Kit,” Jack says, keeping up comfortably and pumping his arms the way Bobby was moments ago. “We tried to make her slow down. Only a couple years ago, she was bitching at me for being lazy. Then when we try and do everything for her, she bitched about us doing too much.”

  Bobby grunts his agreement.

  “My point is,”
Jack continues. “Girls like to bitch, and Izzy’s gonna get bored with your injury soon. Then she’ll start bitchin.”

  I laugh at his zen speech. “You have a way with words, Jack.”

  “I know. I’m poetic like that.” He flashes his crooked, half dimpled grin and I shake my head.

  “So you’re coming back?” I ask again, mentally planning my schedule to work with him in the cage.

  “Yeah, I’ll come back. Plus the girls have their fights coming up--”

  “And mine too,” Jack adds excitedly.

  “Yeah, only a couple weeks till you and Kit fight. Then Iz…” Jim continues. “No one else is stopping or babying, so I guess I should get back to it.”

  We turn onto main street, all of us gulping at the sweet smelling air wafting from the bakery.

  “Did you all hear that Tina’s gonna check the gym out?” Jim asks. The others all nod their heads like this is no big deal, but I stop on the spot, almost hyperextending my knee with the way I jerk still.

  “She’s… what?”

  “You might wanna keep running, Aido.” Jim laughs. “You look like a weirdo stalker standing out front of her place this early in the morning.”

  My eyes snap to the right. Christina Cooper Studios is written in the window and my eyes flare wide.

  “Jesus.” I sprint past the guys, their laughter crackling in the air behind me.

  “Yeah, because that was cool,” Bobby laughs as they all catch up to me, all gasping for air as they laugh and hold their guts.

  “Shut up, dicks.”

  “You like this girl?” Jon asks, his laughter finally dying down, but his voice still saturated with glee.

  “No, I don’t even know her.”

  “You do know her, at least a little,” he says.

  “You know Evie,” Bobby argues.

  “And Tina’s hot,” Jack adds.

  “Jack--”

  “And you’re already jealous about the kid thinking she’s hot,” Jim laughs. He jumps out of my reach when I rush at him. I’m perfectly happy to take him down in the street.

  It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “You should move fast, before Jack claims her,” Jon taunts and I turn his way.

  “I heard you cooked for her,” Jim says and I spin again, pissed at their all on attack.

  “I didn’t cook for her.”

  “That’s not what I heard,” he teases. “I got to go to girl’s night with them last week--”

  “You would, since you’re a girl and all.”

  “Hey, don’t hate the player,” Jim says, laughing and skipping out of my reach again. “Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t have gone. It was epic. I was on the inside, man. I saw the inner workings of a girl catch up.”

  “What was it like?” Jack asks, genuine wonder in his voice as though Jim got to watch a miracle.

  “There was lots of boy talk--”

  Bobby stops his movements. “What boys?”

  “Don’t worry, Romeo. Kit still only has eyes for you,” Jim says and Bobby’s face relaxes at the same time Jack’s turns sour. “I heard about you,” Jim continues, pointing at Jon, and Jon’s face turns white.

  “Oooh,” Jack recovers, covering his mouth and taunting Jon. “Did they say he has a small willy?”

  “Shut up, dick.” Jon shoves him away, but Jack just bounces back, laughing hard.

  “And I heard about you,” Jim continues, turning and pointing directly at me. Literally, pointing and poking my nose.

  I slap his hand away. “What the hell about me?”

  “I heard some naughty stuff, man.”

  “But what stuff?”

  “I’m not sure I can repeat it, ya know. That would be ungentlemanly like.”

  “No, being ungentlemanly would be you floating around and listening into private conversations.”

  “I couldn’t help it though. They were giggling. That’s like the bat signal. I had to know what they were saying.”

  “So, idiot, what were they saying?” I demand, losing patience with his injured ass. I’m about ready to open up that wound of his again.

  “Apparently they talked about you from way back. The other girls tried to pimp you off to Tina ages ago.”

  “Okay…”

  “Well, apparently Tina wasn’t that interested because she was waiting for… quote unquote,” he lifts his hands in the air and I resist the urge to kick his face in. “No… I’m not sure I can tell you. That would be rude.”

  “Dude!”

  “She was waiting for the Sexy Store Guy to bang her brainless,” he rushes out.

  I go still. Utterly, shocked, stock still.

  “Then I heard things about oysters, Tink got yelled at by all the girls, then the meeting broke up.”

  Wow.

  Just… wow.

  “I gotta go.” I run away, from them, and away from Tina’s studio. Just… away.

  The guys all call out behind me but I don’t stop, instead I sprint. I sprint the entire length of Main street, then I turn back toward home then I sprint some more.

  What the fuck am I going to do with that information?

  Evie’s mom is hot as fuck. She’s ‘The Ass’. She’s Peaches. And she’s starred in every nighttime dream I’ve had for the better part of a year. Daytime dream’s too.

  But she’s Evie’s mom. She has a kid. Smalls is awesome, but still, she has a kid.

  And she has secrets. Big secrets, since she seems to have a whole other name. Then there are the scars. There’s absolutely a story to those, but do I want to know? Do I really want to bed her, get to know her, enjoy her, then hear about what, or who, cut her?

  She was interested enough in the guy she met at Jonah’s to hold out for him. To tell the other girls about wanting him to… well, shit.

  What the fuck do I do with that?

  I groan, begging my dick to deflate again, not wanting to give the neighbors a show. It’s hard work to run with a boner.

  I slam my palm down on the gate security box, then I insert the code; zero seven zero four fifteen. The gates swing open and I sprint along the brickwork road, straight across my manicured but boring as hell lawn, jumping over the garden that has daisies and not much else, then I run across the porch and rip my front door open.

  The girls that live around here are nosier than old ladies who sit out front of milk bars, and they’ll know shit is up. Hell, apparently they’ve already been discussing it. They know more of my business than I know.

  Shit.

  ~*~

  Later that day, back in the gym, I’m shaking my head at the girls as they spar and giggle. They’re throwing so much smack talk around, I’m not sure they’ll ever be ready for their fights.

  Bobby and Jim were worried about them, dreading the fights, dreading them getting hurt. Kit’s is a week away, Jack’s is only a week after that. Izzy hasn’t got a fight lined up yet, but she’s hungry for it.

  I don’t think the guys have to worry though; the girls probably won’t even make it to the ring through their giggling fits.

  “Fuck off, mega-tits.” Kit throws at Iz and I just look at my shoes and smile. They’re idiots. “Come on, try and kick me in the head.”

  “Ladies, can we focus?” I ask them, since they asked me to work with them today, but I go ignored as Kit swings her own leg out, arrogantly swiping it past Izzy’s head. Iz arches back, letting it sail past her nose, then she rushes forward, dropping her knees and slamming Kit to the canvas.

  They hit the floor with strangled grunts and Bobby and Jim jump up from their crouches on the outside of the cage, ready to swoop in and save the day. They need to get lost.

  The girls already told them to go away, but they insist on hanging around to clutch their pearls and bite their nails.

  I’m probably the only one around here who’ll give the girls a decent work out these days, because the other guys coddle them so much.

  “Time!” Jimmy shouts out, but the girls continue
to grapple, ignoring him and battling each other for the dominant position.

  Kit is bigger than Iz. Heavier. But Iz is no wallflower and has been doing this her whole life.

  Kit is still relatively new, and has a weak shoulder.

  Izzy climbs on top of Kit, throwing flurries at her head, all of which Kit is blocking, but even I know it was a trick, because then Iz takes Kit’s uninjured arm and she spins on top of her, falling down on Kit’s right side and taking it with her. She pulls Kit’s arm down in a lock, pulling her thumb down against her chest, squeezing her legs and lifting her hips.

  Game over.

  “Time,” Bobby calls out this time, because Kit is losing, but I watch as Kit continues to squirm, not wanting to tap. She will though. She’s stuck.

  “Shit,” Kit swears, struggling against Iz’s hip, but Iz continues to squeeze, warning, stretching Kit’s elbow back.

  Iz would never break it; she could, but she won’t. She’ll just squeeze until Kit taps.

  “Get it out or tap out,” Iz tells her and Kit squirms, tugging on her arm, not getting loose.

  “Ugh!” On a frustrated grunt, Kit’s left hand comes down on Iz’s thigh, tapping, and Iz’s hold releases instantly.

  “You stepped into that one,” I tell her as they roll away from each other. They roll onto their forearms and knees, but Kit rallies, lifting her head and flipping me the bird. Sass is good. She’s still got fight in her.

  “Good job, bubs. You nailed her,” Jim encourages, cut off when Bobby shoves him hard, then Bobby approaches the cage.

  “She tricked you, baby. Gotta keep those arms tight.”

  “Bobby?”

  “Yeah, baby?” He presses against the cage to get closer to her.

  “Piss off.”

  “What?” He rears back in shock and Jimmy laughs at his pouting ass.

  “You too, Jim. Both of you, get lost,” she continues as she tries to catch her breath.

  “Why?”