Bottomed Out

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Bottomed Out Page 3

by Brooke May


  The front door opens like it did for me and another man wheels in. Francis’s body grows stiff next to me. Her hand drops to her sides, and it seems like the entire building stops moving including the air.

  The guy is big for his chair but not in an unfit way, and he would have towered Axle in height and outweighed me by a good fifty to sixty pounds. He probably still does. His head is shaved, and there is a glare on his face that looks permanently plastered on there.

  Chapter Four

  Francis’s smile has withdrawn into some hidden part of her face as a stoic, closed-off expression replaces it. Whoever this guy is, he isn’t someone the staff are fond of or at least Francis isn’t.

  Slowly, he moves past, not even bothering to acknowledge either of us. Not even when Francis takes a deep breath and proceeds to talk in a voice that isn’t as peppy as she had with me.

  “Good afternoon, Owen. How are you today?”

  He doesn’t bother to stop or even look in her direction. This Owen guy doesn’t even give so much of a grunted acknowledgment that he heard her as he continues to head deeper into the building and over to the free weights.

  Blowing out the breath she just sucked in, Francis deflates and turns her attention back to me. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “Not very friendly, is he?”

  “Owen?” She looks genuinely shocked that I would be interested in the man who just rolled in. How could I not be? I mean, who makes an entrance like that and not get talked about?

  I know what you are thinking. Axle can make a grouchy entrance just like Owen did but I know the reason behind Axle’s brooding manner. And I can be nosy when I want to be.

  Looking up once more, Francis bites down on her bottom lip a little harder than necessary while regarding Owen, and then she answers me in a conspiratorially low whisper.

  “Owen isn’t the friendliest of people. If I were you, I would do my best to steer clear of him when he comes in.”

  “You’re kidding?” With a huff of disbelief, I look over my shoulder to where Owen is grabbing some weights. A trainer skirts around him, walking quickly in our direction.

  “I thought he was still suspended?” the guy quietly snarls as he gets closer to us.

  “Don, this is Jax Hunt. He will be joining our team.” Ignoring Don’s question, Francis turns the attention to me. “His old gym closed down, and he has been searching for the next right fit.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Offering him my hand, he takes it and gives a quick shake.

  “Glad to have you with us, Jax. I’m Don. I’m one of the physical therapists here, and I will be around to help you when and if you ever need me.”

  “Good to know, thank you.” There were only a few therapists at my old gym, and they were only there for set hours, so knowing there is always going to be one around to help me puts me at ease with my decision.

  “So, when was Owen allowed back?” Don turns to Francis once more.

  Exhaling, she finally answers him. “His suspension ended this morning, so he’s free to come and go again.” She doesn’t seem too happy about it.

  “Suspension?” Both of them quickly forgot I was there because they look at me a little dumbstruck. I’m curious. Here are two people who are supposed to help others, and they are talking about him like he is a plague on the earth.

  “Owen has a nasty temper,” Don responds. “He isn’t pleasant to be around at all and it is even worse when his sister accompanies him.”

  “Sister?”

  “She’s sweet, but no one dares to talk to her when she comes in. Owen snaps at everyone,” Francis chips in.

  “That’s when the suspension came in,” Don adds. “One of our now former staff members was apparently flirting with her, and Owen beat the crap out of him.”

  “He wasn’t expelled from here?” This surprises me. Most gyms have no tolerance for any of that sort of shit.

  “Unfortunately, no. The owner was worried about a lawsuit if we expelled him. He got three months suspension.” Don supplies. “And now he’s back,” He ends with a groan.

  When they dive into a conversation about ordering some new equipment cleaner, I decide to find out more about Owen for myself. I pride myself on being a friendly person. I’ve been told anyone who meets me instantly adores me. Axle and Levi say it’s puke-worthy while I’m hoping it will come in handy now.

  He can’t be that bad.

  Wheeling my way back over to the free weights, I come to a sliding stop next to him and extend my hand. “Hi, I’m Jax Hunt. I’m new here.”

  He stares at his reflection on the wall of mirrors behind the bench of various weights, ignoring me. My hand is left hanging until I retract it. This is a rare moment for me.

  There is still no response.

  “Well, it was nice–”

  “Leave me the fuck alone,” he grunts. His voice is deeper than I thought it would be, and there is a slight slur to it. I don’t think he’s been drinking, though.

  “I just thought–”

  “I said, leave me! The fuck! Alone!” Screaming at me, he slams the dumbbells back into their cradle and angrily wheels away. I’m left slack-jawed and confused. All I was trying to do was be friendly.

  Shaking my head, I go back to the desk to get whatever I need for the gym and find both Don and Francis wearing I told you so looks.

  “Told you.” Francis hands me a key. “Here is your locker key.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” I don’t like asking in that way, but I don’t know any other way to find out.

  They exchange another glance before Francis nods, and Don quietly explains.

  “He was in an accident several years ago. He was on his way to something big and was doing stupid shit like most young guys do, and it ruined his life. He hasn’t been the same since. At least that’s what we’ve been told.” He shrugs and leans against the counter. “He never seems to be happy.”

  “Shit, I can’t even imagine.” I know how accidents can change your life, but I never let it sour my attitude.

  Chapter Five

  Feeling good about my decision, I get home in no time. I really like how close this place is to my apartment. I haven’t decided if I’m going to make myself get up earlier in the morning to head over or come home after work and roll my way over.

  Locking up my van, I make my way up to the door and open it to be welcomed by the crashing of pots and the slamming of cabinet doors.

  “Are we being robbed or did you have another shitty day, sweetheart?” Gliding into the kitchen, I find Axle attempting to cook on the stovetop. “You’re burning whatever you are hoping to eat.”

  Not looking at me, he grunts and bangs yet another smoldering pan into the sink. For someone who is a clean freak, he sure is making an enormous mess. He’ll be banging around here late when he’s had time to cool down and starts to clean everything up.

  “Megan not coming over to cook for us again?”

  “No.” Megan Welan is Axle’s sometimes booty call who, as of late, has been a little too clingy for his own good. “No Megan.” This simple answer is all I need to know it was most definitely another shitty day in a long line of other shitty ones for him.

  “Do you want me to take over?” I ask even though I know he won’t let me. I may not be able to reach the back burners, but I can still whip something up.

  “No.”

  “Okay, cupcake. I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to go change.” Backing up, I head to my room and change into a pair of basketball shorts and a loose top. I feel far more comfortable now, and by the time I’m relaxed, Axle has something bordering on black set up at the table.

  Usually, I’m home first and put dinner together, but that isn’t the case now, and I’m regretting it. On occasion, Megan makes us something that lasts us for at least two meals, but I’m not that lucky either.

  “Are we in a better mood?”

  “Candy.” The one-word answer changes to a different word, or should I
say person? Candy is Axle’s boss and one-time bed buddy who now fucks him over at every chance she can. And she makes sure he is bone-dry and a long way away from any tubes of lube.

  “What did she do now?” Fake tits, fake blond hair, and so much more, Candy Havre is a plague on Axle’s professional life.

  “She tossed me a file five minutes before the end of the day and told me that it needed to be my top priority. No other account I am working on is as important as this one.” Scrubbing his face, Axle continues to stare down at his barely edible food. “It isn’t even the work, but the way she commanded me to do it,” he growls. “How was the gym?”

  And the heart-to-heart is done.

  “I’m going with it.” I nod my conviction. I’m happy with my choice. “It’s a nice place that I feel like I’ll be comfortable at.” And knowing that Owen brings his sister in means I may be able to take one of my friends along with me from time to time. It would be nice to work out with someone again. At my old place, none of my friends could come. They were strict on only having handicap people using the facility.

  It sucked, but I make do with working out on my own.

  “Listen, Ax, if you’re that miserable, I know Mr. Landon would love to have an accountant of your caliber at Double X.”

  “I don’t want to be your charity case, Jax.”

  I can’t really keep the laughter to myself.

  “Well, you’ve had me as your charity case for a while now.” I struck a nerve, I know I did, but I can handle anything Axle slings in my direction. “Axle, if you see it as charity, then I can’t change your mind, but I don’t see it that way. I see it as my place of work gaining someone who works hard and does a damn good job at what he does. If anything, it would be a charity to Double X.”

  I also think it would be a great way to get Axle near bikes again. He would be immersed in them while going over numbers for the place. That’s my secret motive, anyway. I only hope he doesn’t catch onto it.

  I know Axle misses racing, and I would love to help push him back into that life.

  “Thank you, really, Jax, but if it doesn’t work out for me there, I’ll be blackballed in the rest of this city by Havre.” That’s about as polite as Axle gets.

  Doing my best not to break the knife as I cut into what I’m assuming was once a juicy piece of steak, I’m startled when the front door opens with a whoosh and then closes with a resounding slam.

  “Hey, fuckers!” Levi Crowe, the third member of this fucked-up three musketeers, comes in and takes a seat at our table as if he lives here as well. He might as well. He spends more time here than at the fancy apartment he has thanks to his grandpa’s trust fund. “What’s on the menu tonight?” Leaning forward, he peeks at both of our plates, then scrunches his nose in disgust. “I’m glad I ate before I came over.

  “Oh, and what did Grandpa’s money buy you tonight?” Axle is a snarky asshole whose bark is far worse than his bite.

  “A juicy rare steak with a perfectly baked potato and a nice imported beer.” Levi has no shame as he leans back in his seat and laces his fingers behind his head.

  “Are you ever going to get a job?”

  “Yeah, the way you spend money, your trust fund is liable to run out before you hit forty.”

  Looking from one of us to the other, Levi drops his grin slightly. “My dad did call me today.”

  “And?” Axle will dive into anyone else’s problems so he can avoid his own. Levi happens to live an extremely interesting life. He gets more women than Axle and me combined, has more money than he knows what to do with, and is the most entertaining drunk in our lives.

  “He’s making demands again.”

  “And why don’t you just give in already? You don’t do much during the day anyway.” His dad wants him to come to work for the family firm. He’s smart enough to be one of the best in the state, but he’s lazy.

  “You passed your bar exam, so you’re good to start whenever.”

  “I don’t like getting up before noon.” He groans. If that is Levi’s only excuse other than being lazy and not wanting to be a grown-up, then that can be his life.

  Poking around at my charcoal food, I listen to Levi and Axle discuss some new video game they have been waiting to release for the next fifteen minutes or so before I excuse myself, take care of my plate, and wheel my way into my room.

  Something tonight has me aching to call a number I know will bring me nothing but heartache. I don’t know if it was from seeing Axle miserable at a dead-end job he keeps going to or the change of the new gym, but I bring my phone to life and find the number I call when I feel that something will be different.

  Three rings turn into four, and right before the voicemail picks up, my dad answers.

  “Hey, son. How’s it going?” Even if my mom is a complete pain in the ass about my accident, my dad is the opposite even if it causes him issues when it comes to dealing with her.

  “Hi, Dad. I was just calling to see how your week has been.”

  “It’s been good. I took a few swings off my game yesterday.” When he retired, he had no clue what to do with his time. Golfing was never his game, but he is slowly finding his stride with it. “How have you been?”

  “Pretty good.” I need to hurry up and tell him about what’s new in my life before my mom finds out who he’s talking to. “I’m going to a new gym. I think it will be a great fit, and I’ve just been given a big assignment at work.”

  “That’s great, Jax.” Dad gives me his rare chuckle. And then it goes to shit. I can hear her, and I’m positive she’s stomping into the room.

  “Is that Jax?” She doesn’t give him a chance to respond. “Why is he calling?” Dad mumbles about my new gym and how work is going, which she doesn’t like in the least. It’s bad enough that I have the job that I do and haven’t given up on being close to what I love, but now she’s going to go crazy with thinking I don’t need to work either.

  Mom starts making a fuss, and I can imagine Dad trying to pull away to finish talking to me.

  “Jax? Jax?”

  “Yeah, Dad?”

  “I’ll talk to you later.” He hangs up before I can say goodbye. In a delay, I pull my phone from my ear and stare at it. It breaks my fucking heart that my mom has to be like this. I miss her more than I miss the ability to walk.

  Tapping my phone on my leg, I sniff and then dial another number that will guarantee to put a smile on my face.

  The phone barely rings twice with the sweetest little voice picks up. “Uncy!”

  “Hey, hey, is that my favorite girl in the whole wide world, Ruby?”

  “Uncy!” She giggles. “Uncy! Uncy!”

  “Is that Uncle Jax, Ruby?” My older sister Josie’s voice joins in the call.

  “Yeah.” The little one giggles again.

  “I’m sure you put a big smile on his face, sweet girl.”

  “She sure did.” I answer for my two-year-old niece. I love listening to her babble to me, even if I can’t see her through the phone. “How big has she gotten?”

  “You saw her on Sunday, Jax. It’s not like we’re packing her for college in the past few days.” Josie laughs. “Is everything okay?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you only call me during bath time when you’ve talked to Dad, and Mom has interrupted.”

  “You know me so well.” Laughing, I put myself on speakerphone to get into bed.

  “What did she say this time?”

  “Nothing. Dad got off the phone before she could say a word, and I just wanted to hear a kind voice.”

  “And you picked me over Axle. Oh, Jax, I’m touched.”

  “Ha. Ha.” For the next hour, I visit with my sister and listen to my niece give her hell while trying to take a bath and get ready for bed. They make me laugh, and by the time I’m off the phone, I feel at peace for the evening.

  But as I lie back in my bed and try to get some sleep, I can’t help but realize I really want wha
t my sister has.

  Someone to love me unconditionally.

  A woman who sees me and loves every part of me.

  And kids I can dote on.

  Chapter Six

  “Son of a bitch!” Jolting upright in bed, I stare wide-eyed and panicked around the room as my arms quake under the sudden weight of my body.

  Reaching for my phone, I try to bat at it to turn off the alarm but it isn’t making a single sound. I flinch away at the bright light invading the darkness. I have a few notifications from Facebook, but nothing else. Switching the screen off, I place it back on the nightstand. What could have woken me? It isn’t some young voice singing to me that has me in a fully wake state at …

  Glancing over at my clock, I blink several times at the bright red numbers that illuminate a minuscule part of my room.

  3:57 a.m.

  “What the fuck?” Leaning forward, I finally relieve my other hand and bring both up to scrub my face. This isn’t normal for me to wake up in the early hours of the morning like this. I’m usually a pretty regular sleeper when it comes to how many hours I get in a night and all, so I’m thrown a little at the sudden wakefulness grabbing hold of me.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to take in a few more before I fall back on my pillows. But then a gut-wrenching, plead-filled scream echoes from somewhere else in the apartment, through my closed door, and penetrates both my ears.

  “Fucking shit.” Blindly, I grab my sheets while also reaching for my lamp so I can see. The screaming becomes far more frantic than any other time it has woken me up. In a careful hurriedness, I get myself out of bed and into my chair. Making sure the brake is off, I quickly wheel myself out of my room and across the hall to the other closed bedroom door and the screaming dick head inside.

  Everyone thought after the accident I would be the one who had nightmares and would relive the horrors of what I went through, but Axle remembers all of it. I blacked out for most of it, and even when I had brief moments of consciousness, I don’t remember a single thing. It was Axle who managed to get out of the debris on his own and helped pull everything away from me and a few other riders who were stuck under their bikes.

 

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