by Amity Cross
Picking up a set of fingerless gloves, he flexed his fingers through the openings and secured the Velcro strap around his wrists. Then he held up his fists, the muscles in his arms rippling. Angling his right fist, he allowed me to watch how he hit the bag in slow motion, then he brought in his left, then back with his right. The first two were short, sharp jabs, and the last hit with his right was a little wider and to the side rather than straight on.
“It’s a good set to test the strength of your blows,” he explained. “And repetitions will work your muscles and build up even more power.”
“You’re not subliminally training me to become a boxer, are you?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. The giant punching bag intimidated me, not as much as Caleb, but it hung there taunting my fragility like a bright red bully made out of leather and stuffing.
“No,” he replied, his lips quirking. “Subliminally attempting to get you over your hesitation at hitting something, but boxing? No way. You’re too delicate for that.”
I flushed and glanced at my feet.
“Here,” he said, taking off the gloves. He took my hands and pulled them on, one by one, before securing the Velcro, dressing me like I was something breakable. “The gloves are a little big, but they’ll do. Give the bag hell. Just like I showed you.”
Squashing down my embarrassment, I turned to the bag and raised my fists.
“Stand tall. Straighten your back,” Caleb said, grasping my shoulders from behind. “Use your upper body to store your strength, then push it out with your arm and fist from your shoulder.”
“You make it sound easy,” I complained, overly aware of his body position more than my own.
“Give it a go, Jules.” He let me go, the loss of his touch sending an icy chill through my body, and he positioned himself on the other side of the bag, anchoring it in place with his shoulder and hip.
Jules? When had he decided to give me a nickname?
Sucking in a deep breath, I lashed out at the punching bag, my fists slamming against the leather. Smack, smack, smack!
I was overthinking things. Smack, smack, smack! I was attaching myself to the one person who’d given a shit. Smack, smack, smack! I’d fallen for the fantasy, not the reality. Smack, smack, smack! We both had things in common, like difficult parents and things that’d served as catalysts for the pain we both felt. Smack, smack, smack!
Soon, I became lost in the rhythm, running through the punches he’d painstakingly taught me. Right, left, right.
“Whose head you picturing?” Caleb asked after a while.
“No one in particular,” I muttered, taking a breather. “Am I doing it right?”
He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re a little sloppy, but A for effort.”
Glancing at the punching bag, I said, “It’s quite the stress reliever.”
“Ain’t it?”
Shaking out my arms, I turned away, my gaze finding the outside door…and the darkness that lay beyond. My heart twisted painfully and started to gallop in my chest as I realized the sun had set.
“What’s the time?” I asked, my voice coming out in a terrified squeak.
“Ah, it’s almost eight.”
“Eight?”
We were supposed to be done by seven so I could get home while it was still light. I couldn’t go out there. I couldn’t… I yanked off the gloves and let them fall to the floor, a blind panic beginning to pulse through my vision.
“Juliette?” Caleb’s voice echoed from someplace far away. “Are you all right?”
I rushed across the studio, pushing into the weight room, oblivious to the fact he’d followed me. Snatching up my shoes, I jammed my feet into them and gathered up my bag. How was I going to get home when the mere thought of walking fifteen minutes through the pitch dark side streets of Brunswick turned me into this? A quivering mess, overcome with fear, who couldn’t even defend herself.
“Juliette,” Caleb said again. This time, he grabbed my shoulders and forced me to face him.
My breathing quickened, signaling I was seconds away from crumbling to the floor and hyperventilating. Great, a panic attack in front of Caleb Carmichael, Greek god. Who’d want a broken mess like me for a girlfriend? Not him.
He glanced out the window, then back to me. He seemed to get the cause of my fear, and his grip softened.
“You want me to take you home?”
I couldn’t ask him to be my bodyguard… Could I? It sure would be convenient.
“How far are you?” he asked. “Do we want to take the car, or can we walk?”
“Walk,” I managed to get out. “Albion Street.”
“That’s ten minutes or so,” he mused. “I’m going to crash here tonight, so walking is fine if that’s what you want to do.”
He was sleeping at Beat? My mind began to latch onto the notion, serving as a distraction, and I felt my heartbeat slowing to somewhere near normal.
“I…” I began, but I didn’t know what to say even if I could get the words out.
“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, his thumbs caressing my skin. “I don’t mind at all. Honestly.”
“I don’t mean to…”
“I know. Just let me get my keys and some shoes, then we’ll go. Okay?”
I watched him walk away, the door to the weight room swinging behind him. I couldn’t ask him to do this for me. It was way beyond the agreement we had. I paid him to train me in self-defense, nothing more.
I stewed in my own juices for what felt like a millennia before he returned.
“Caleb, I can’t…” I shook my head, my hands tightening around the handle of my bag. “I can’t ask you to take me home like this.”
“Why not?” he asked with a confused frown. “I don’t mind.”
I scowled, not knowing how to say what I felt without giving away how attached I’d become to him and how terrified I was of things changing the moment he found out I was thinking about him like that. Then there was everything else. My name, my past, my sister.
“I hate this,” I hissed to myself. “It’s eight o-fucking-clock.”
“C’mon,” he said with an encouraging grin. “We’ll be there before you know it.”
He pried my bag from my fingers and slung it over his shoulder, looking almost comical. The muscled boxer with a ladies handbag.
Outside, it was still muggy, the city trapped in the midst of a heat wave.
Caleb and I walked side by side down the footpath, our arms almost touching. I was beyond talking, and he seemed content with the silence, so I stopped trying to think of clever thoughts to fill the void.
My gaze darted through shadow after shadow, imagining evil things were lurking just beyond, waiting to jump out and grab me. It didn’t escape my notice when Caleb shifted position, placing his brawn between me and the open mouths of the alleys we passed.
Turning down my street, we were forced closer by the small footpath, the row of parked cars on the street making the space tighter. It wasn’t long before my unit block came into sight, the row of brick buildings facing the road shining like a beacon of safety.
“This is me,” I murmured as we stood outside my door.
Caleb nodded and handed me back my bag, our fingers catching. I could hear the dull beat of Turkish music coming from the unit next door, and the scent of the gardenia tree on the porch floated on the humid air.
I was fooling myself. Thinking things wouldn’t get hazy the longer we hung out together. I harbored an attraction to the man I could hardly contain, especially when he was looking at me like he was now. Like I was a light in the darkness.
How could I show him the way when I was so unbelievably lost?
Caleb sighed and raised his hand. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushed against my cheek. I was caught, unable to move let alone speak. I was trapped…but that was the thing. I wanted to be.
The space between us closed as our bodies gravitated toward one another, his gaze
piercing mine intently. He was searching for something I didn’t quite understand—maybe he was looking for signs someone rational lived inside me—and when he was done, he leaned closer, his breath hitching slightly.
He was going to kiss me. Finally. I hadn’t been imagining it. This thing I was feeling went both ways.
I was waiting for the moment his lips hit mine, bracing myself for the taste I’d been fantasizing about, but it never came.
Caleb dropped his hand and edged back, waiting for me to unlock the door.
Unable to meet his gaze, I felt my heart twist as I fumbled in my bag. My hand shook as I jammed the key into the lock and turned it, the mechanism clicking and letting the door swing inward. Reaching inside, I flipped on the lounge room light and waited.
“Okay?” he asked.
I knew he was asking for permission to leave, so I nodded.
At the last possible moment, I glanced up. The second my gaze hit his, I faltered, the look in his eyes saying everything.
He didn’t want me. After all that… He’d seen all he needed to.
Shying away, I slipped inside and closed the door, blocking out my heartache. Leaning against the wall, I listened to his footsteps as he walked away, leaving me to my misery.
Just as I’d expected, my fear had fucked everything up yet again. I should’ve been strong enough to walk the fifteen minutes home on my own. I shouldn’t need a man’s hand to hold so I could make it through life without pissing my pants over a specter that murdered my sister all those years ago.
I shouldn’t have let Caleb see me like that, and now everything had changed. I could feel the certainty oozing out of every pore. It was over. The one thing that kept me afloat was gone, and I was sinking once more.
Humiliation and regret washed over me as I made sure the deadbolt on the front door had clicked into place. Always looking over my shoulder.
How could I go back to Beat now?
12
Caleb
I couldn’t take advantage of her.
If I started something, I’d have to finish it, and I didn’t know if I was strong enough, let alone the right kind of man for a woman like Juliette. She needed someone to help heal whatever had broken her. Someone strong and capable, someone who could keep her safe. I wasn’t that man. I was broken, too. Two broken people couldn’t fix one another. Could they?
Maybe they could find solace together but longevity? Love? I didn’t think it was possible.
I was off my game today. My mind was all over the place after a sleepless night in the back room over the studio, my focus haphazardly split over so many scenarios I couldn’t keep up. Not even a quick wank in the shower had cleared the tension I’d been carrying since leaving Juliette on her doorstep. You would think playing with my cock would help some but nope. It only made things worse.
Seriously, the entire morning had been one fuck up after another, not including yesterday’s circus with my father.
After getting punched in the head by Mitch and getting the piss taken out of me by the other guys, I’d retreated to the office before I completely lost my temper.
When the door burst open, interrupting my silent seething, I almost jumped a mile.
“There you are, you fucking sook,” Ren Miller declared, bounding into the office, a ball of bright, bubbly energy that did nothing to elevate my mood. “Frank told me you were up here crying into your milk. Mitch punch you in the head that hard?”
“Of all the days, you pick today,” I drawled, sinking back into my chair.
“I know how to pick ’em a mile off,” she said, flopping down into the other office chair and swinging around. “I have a million things I need to discuss with you about your dad’s list of demands, but right now, all I want to know is what’s eating your ass? I’ve never seen you look so foul, Carmichael.”
“Just…” I sighed, wanting to curse her out for being so crass but not having the energy. “A mess with a client.”
“The woman you’ve been training after hours?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, I’ve heard all about it.”
“Fuck off,” I cursed. “From who?”
“Tommy.”
“The little fucker,” I hissed, scowling. He was still sore I’d given him a reprimand for cruising the clientele for a quick fuck? I hoped he hadn’t found a replacement for Juliette out of his class while my back was turned.
“You had better watch that one,” Ren said. “He’s got potential to be trouble.”
“I know, and I’ve already warned him.”
“If he doesn’t listen, give him the heave-ho,” she said. “We don’t want that kind of shit going on here.”
“On that, we agree,” I drawled. “He’s a good teacher when he forgets about his dick. I want to give him a chance.”
“I trust you, Caleb, you’re a good guy, but be careful he doesn’t take advantage of it.”
Thinking of my parents, I knew she was right. There was a lifetime of second chances right there. There’d been so many over the years the word second had lost all meaning.
“And this woman you’re training?” Ren asked. “What are your intentions?”
“It would be hypocritical of me to rip shreds off Tommy then do the same thing he was attempting,” I drawled.
Ren began to laugh and twirled around on her chair.
“What the fuck is up your ass?” I asked with a scowl. It was hard to follow her tangents sometimes. The line was very blurred when it came to Ren Miller, and she didn’t give two fucks who knew it.
“You’re into her.”
“How do you figure that?”
“You just told me.” She chortled in glee.
“I can’t,” I said. “For so many reasons.”
“Professionalism.” Ren inclined her head in thought. “To a degree, I totally agree with that, but if it’s about more than physical want…” She thought for a moment, then asked, “What’s her name?”
“Juliette.”
“Juliette,” she mused. “Pretty name.”
“She’s closed and complicated,” I went on. “Something’s got her rattled, and I never know what’ll trigger her.”
“And you don’t know if all that is worth the hassle.” Ren shook her head and clucked her tongue. “Typical male.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a lazy son of a bitch,” she retorted. “Finish what you’ve started.”
“It’s not like that,” I snapped. “I went into this with an attraction, yeah, but it was more about helping her.”
“Do you care for her? Or is it all about your filthy cock?” She rolled her eyes. “If it’s only about your little prick, then cut her loose. She sounds like she doesn’t need another heartbreak to contend with. It would be kinder, but if you genuinely care for her, then fight, you little fucker. Fight.”
I snorted and shook my head. She didn’t know the half of it.
“I gave up on Ash when he needed me the most, and I regret it every day,” she went on.
“But you guys are tight now,” I said. “Solid.”
“Now were are,” she declared, leaning back in the chair. “It could’ve easily gone the other way. Point is, his reaction was to push me away, and I should’ve pushed right back, but all I saw was ‘too hard,’ and I turned tail and ran.”
“You think I should do the same thing with Juliette?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Only you can make that call. I don’t know the woman.”
“But you know me.”
“Pfft,” she spat. “That’s debatable.”
“Why’s that?”
Ren laughed and nudged me with the tip of her shoe. “Looks like the cocky asshole I met all those months ago has a motherfucking heart. I was beginning to think it was closed for business.”
“So you thought I was only interested in you for one thing?”
She laughed and nudged me again. “You were.”
I grunted and rolle
d my eyes. Maybe she was right to a certain degree.
“Look, it’s obvious you’re searching for something or someone,” she said. “If you’re so torn up over her, then something’s going on under that hard-ass exterior.”
“It’s just… I can’t stop thinking there’s something there.”
“The only way you’re going to find out, is to jump in headfirst and try. There’s risk involved in everything. You could get burned, or you could burn her. Or it could be nice for a while, or it could be forever. No one ever found their soul mate sitting around fantasizing about it.”
“It’s complicated,” I began, wondering how much I should tell her. “She’s frightened of almost everything, but her determination…” I thought about everything Juliette had shared with me since that first day and realized she had opened up to me. More than I realized apparently.
“She mention why?” Ren asked with a frown.
“No, but she seems hell-bent on getting over it.”
“That’s good, then. What you’ve been doing together has obviously helped, right?”
I nodded.
“When’s she coming back?”
“Tomorrow,” I replied. “I think.”
“You think?”
“I walked her home last night,” I explained. “She almost had a panic attack at the thought of walking home in the dark, so I went with her. Left things a little…awkwardly. It’ll be a miracle if she comes back.”
“Then make sure she does,” Ren said with a humph.
I was not impressing her today. Honestly, I wasn’t impressing myself.
I’d leaned in toward Juliette with the intention of kissing her, but at the last second, I’d pulled back. The look in her eyes… Fuck it.
“Call her, or text her. Do whatever you need to make sure she comes in tomorrow as usual.” Ren kicked me again to get my attention. “Then make sure you kiss her stupid before you send her home.” She began to laugh, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “If you send her home at all.”
13
Juliette
