by K B Cinder
My giant of a brother-in-law paused at the door to his office while waiting for me to catch up, my pained shuffle leaving me a few strides behind. “How is it today?”
“Fine,” I lied, using the automatic answer.
He didn’t need to point out it was my leg he was talking about. Other than my crippling need to make poor decisions, the limb was the only thing slowing me down. I did everything at level one-hundred, which was precisely how I ended up still feeling like day-old milk after a certain rebel refused me. Even a walking ink blot had more self control than I did.
“I’ll have a stool brought up to the front,” he said, glancing at my sweatpants-sheathed limb. “If you need ibuprofen or acetaminophen, I have some. Just holler.”
“Thanks.” I might take him up on the offer too, thanks to the pulsing ache that only grew worse standing on it. I was overdue for an orthopedics appointment, but I’d been dodging it with good reason: I didn’t want another surgery.
Surgery meant crutches for weeks, leaving me trapped in the first-floor office on the sofabed with non-existent privacy. Hiking up the stairs to my childhood bedroom—while painful—offered peace.
“I have to grab the Polaroid off of my desk, and you should be good to go.”
“Of what?” He’d already printed out step-by-step instructions for each process if I got stuck. A tiny square wouldn’t get me very far in comparison.
He looked at me like I was the crazy one as he scratched at his chin with his banana fingers. He was really embracing fatherhood with the facial hair and ridiculous t-shirt, complete with a holy guacamole and a drawing of the veggie with a halo and wings.
“A Polaroid. You know, the camera? Instant photos?” He mimed as if he were snapping my picture for effect.
“Oh.” I hadn’t seen one in years and I had no clue what I’d do with one at the desk, but whatever. He was the boss. I’d take pictures of yoga balls all day if he wanted me to.
“We use them for member photos instead of digital. It gives a cool retro vibe that Rini loves,” he explained. “Just snap the photo, scan, and print their membership card.”
“That’s actually really cool.” I kinda wanted one too, even if I wasn’t a member exactly. I had the lifelong family plan free of charge. Not that I’d used it in ages. My extra jiggle in my ass said that loud and clear.
He lumbered into his office, the wall that once housed a poster of adult star Kendra Kum now featuring an enormous canvas of the Mullen family with Rini, Ava, and Vida surrounding a smiling Sage.
“Who’s that hot babe?” I asked, nodding at the photo with a grin. I couldn’t resist teasing him.
“Oh, that’s just my MILF of a wife,” he laughed, handing me the camera. “I forgot you haven’t been in here in forever. I keep a stash of goldfish crackers and Cheerios in my bottom right drawer if you ever get hungry for finger food. I never know when your sister will show up with a kid or two.”
“She pops them out like a Pez dispenser,” I needled. “If you could stay off her, that’d be great. They’re cute and all, but ya’ll are really blowing up my Christmas budget.”
“Well, we’re done, if that makes you feel better,” he chuckled. “Vida lives up to her name a bit too much.”
Life. I was with Rini when she found the name and fell head over heels. It fit the tiny tornado, too. I’d watched her exactly once at my apartment before everything happened, and she tore my place apart in the time it took me to pee.
“Ain’t that the damn truth,” I laughed, heading toward the door. “I’ll go hold down the front with Georgie then.”
He waved me off, and I limped back to the desk, finding my station buddy fully engrossed in a celebrity gossip blog on her cell.
“Anything good?” I asked, attempting to spark a conversation with my new coworker. She was fresh out of high school, but hopefully I was still cool enough to talk to in her book.
She shrugged as she swiped the screen. “Just the usual so-and-so ate a burrito and might be preggo. Did you know they’re talking about shooting a Sinners movie?”
“Nope. That’s odd. That show has been off for a few years.”
The star, Theron Slater—my other brother-in-law—hightailed it out of Hollywood for the domestic life with Lita and hadn’t looked back. At the time, I thought he was nuts to walk away from those parties, but he’d told stories that turned me off from celebrity life for good. I couldn’t even stomach tabloids anymore.
“Yeah, all because of some asshole,” the redhead grumbled. “I hope they don’t bring him back.”
“Me neither,” I said with a smile.
Theron was having way too much fun being a stay-at-home-dad to step back into that mess. Besides, the paparazzi had finally seemed to forget about him, keeping the family safe from pestering.
“Oh, look, your first victim—I mean customer,” she teased, eyeing a teenager coming through the front doors with a preteen in tow.
The teen rocked choppy, shoulder-length brown hair dipped in teal and an outfit straight out of a grunge concert, while the younger one donned a bright pink unicorn hoodie and jeans, her ponytail long and sandy brown. They couldn’t have been more different.
“Hey, there!” I greeted, slapping on my best smile.
“I’m here to have a photo taken for my ID,” the elder one announced as she set a tasseled backpack on the counter, almost knocking over a jar of pens in the process.
She didn’t seem to care, either, so I plucked it out of harm’s way before I had to crawl around cleaning up pens.
“Okay, just a second,” I trailed, lifting the Polaroid I’d just set down. I didn’t think I’d get to use it so soon, and I was a little too excited for the opportunity. “Do you have a completed sign-up form?”
She nodded, reaching into the pack to produce a paper folded into a football that she handed to me, still folded tightly.
Georgie plucked the paper wad from my fingertips and started unfolding it with finesse. “I’ll enter it to save time before the afternoon rush. Go take her pic.”
I mouthed a thank you before looking back at the girls.
“Alright, come with me over to that wall,” I said, waving at the mural of fight-themed drawings.
The elder girl did as directed, while the younger one stayed glued to the counter with wide eyes. It took me a second to notice them fixed on the men sparring in the cage around back.
“They’re just play-fighting,” I assured with a smile as I rounded the desk. “A few fighters train with us.”
The little one’s shoulders sagged. “Good. I was wondering why no one called the police.”
I laughed, gesturing for her to follow us over to what I assumed was her sister based on the shared blue-green eyes and cute button nose. “I’m Raya.”
“I’m Isabel, but call me Izzy,” she introduced, following.
The elder sister ignored pleasantries, and by how tightly she crossed her arms, I knew she would play hardball. She stood against the wall with a blank expression as if awaiting a lame school photo experience.
Not with me behind the lens.
“There’s no real rule about these photos,” I explained, glancing between the girls. “You can technically do whatever you want as a pose. You like rock? Give me some devil horns. You like salsa? Give me your best hair flip.”
The older girl eyed me carefully before sticking up tentative devil horns with each hand as her nail polish gleamed in the light. Still, her face remained unmoved.
“Come on, give me some attitude…” I trailed, looking to the little one for her name.
“Cass,” Izzy muttered, giving up the answer without missing a beat.
“Come on, Cass. Stick your tongue out. Snarl. Whatever you want.”
I would’ve had a field day with it at her age.
“This is ridiculous,” she grumbled, lowering her hands.
“Seriously? When’s the last time you got to take a badass picture?” I asked, egging her on. “I b
et the last time you got a school photo taken, they messed with your hair a hundred times, right? This is your time to shine.”
I remembered being her age, stuck living a life that stayed perfectly between the lines. At least her parents let her dye her hair. Mine would’ve flipped shit and called a therapist. Had they known I’d already had my belly button and nipples pierced, they really would’ve lost their shit.
Even now at twenty-five, they only knew about the belly ring and were less than thrilled. Go figure. Rini sold dildos, but piercings were outrageous.
Slowly, her hands lifted into horns again, and her mouth curved into an epic rocker snarl.
“Thatta girl!” I snapped a picture, knowing she nailed it on the first try. She was a natural, and as the camera lowered, I caught a tiny smile twitch at her lips.
Mission accomplished.
Sure enough, as soon as I got done shaking the square, an epic photo stared back at me.
I held it out with a smile of my own. “Look how cool that is!”
She wandered over cautiously as if I were lying, but another smile touched her lips upon seeing the image. “This is awesome!”
“You want this copy?” I asked, raising a brow as I waved the image. “This would make a badass profile pic, just saying.”
Normally, I’d watch my mouth around kiddos, but she had to be around sixteen, and something told me the younger one had heard a lot worse words come out of her sister’s mouth.
Cass nodded and followed me back to the front desk. She waited with Izzy while I scanned the photo for Georgie, who’d almost finished inputting the data from her sign-up sheet.
With the photo scanned, I handed the Polaroid pic to Cass, who tucked it in her bag with a smirk. “As promised.”
She brushed a tumble of hair out of her eyes; her side bangs rebelling the instant she slid them behind her ear. “Thanks.”
I waved it off with a smile. “Anytime.”
“It’ll be just another minute till your ID prints out,” Georgie assured, typing away. “Raya, someone buzzed for a gym tour back by the ring. Can you handle it while I finish this?”
“Sure,” I answered before turning to the girls. “Have a nice day. I’ll see you around.”
I smiled the entire way back to the cage despite the ache in my leg, pleased with my good deed of the day.
Maybe the gym gig wouldn’t be so bad.
9
Raya
Mornings definitely weren’t my thing, but when Sage offered an early start at the gym, I jumped on the offer.
Getting out and about was the only way to keep the bad vibes at bay, my night still spent in turmoil as I relived the bathroom embarrassment in painstaking detail via a nightmare.
Grabbing a cappuccino on the way in made it that much better. I hadn’t asked, but hopefully the ankle bracelet wouldn’t report a violation. Technically, the coffee shop was on the way to work… and I’d used the drive thru. It wasn’t like I went inside.
Bodies packed the gym, and poor Georgie already looked ready to leave when I rolled in at seven a.m. in sweats, not minding the workout attire rule at all.
She’d piled her red locks on her head in a puff of a bun, but she still wore a full face of contoured goodness that made me feel extra rough with my Hail Mary swipe of mascara and ponytail.
“Morning,” I greeted, extending a goodie bag and the drink carrier. “I grabbed you a cake pop and a hot chocolate on my way.”
In our chats the day earlier, I’d gathered that she hated coffee but was a total fiend for sugar. Might as well try to win her over with some of the white stuff in multiple forms. I needed a friend, even if she was still oblivious to the shit storm her twenties would bring.
“Oh, my gosh! Thank you!” She snatched the bag and pulled it close, inhaling the vanilla through the open top with a moan. “It’s smells better than sex.”
“Most things do,” I laughed, forcing the last embarrassing sexcapade out of my head as soon as it entered. Nope, not today, Satan. Rebel’s loss. Not mine.
“Scented lube helps,” she dared, firing off a wink as I set her hot chocolate in front of her.
I smirked, lifting my cup to my lips. “Depends on the brand. I only use Kinx. If you’re not careful, you’ll start baking a cake pop down there.”
Might as well plug Rini’s brand while we were on the subject. She sold kickass products, even if they were the last thing I wanted to think about my sister selling.
Georgie’s eyes flicked to the fighting cage where Sage stood, busying himself with setting up pads for a class. “I wonder if she uses any of her stuff on him.”
I had to suppress a gag.
“Word to the wise: Sage is my brother-in-law, and she is my sister. I didn’t want to wave that around, but I can’t stomach hearing anyone ovulate over the dude who grew up across the street from us. That’s insta-barf territory for me.”
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Oh, my gosh! That’s so cute! They grew up across from one another? That’s some true-love shit right there!”
Blowing on my drink, I met her gaze. “Yeah, but it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. They hated each other for years.”
She waggled her brows. “Enemies to lovers? Even spicier.”
Jesus. Make it stop. “Don’t know; don’t care.”
“Oh, come on, he’s hot as hell!” she whined. “You can admit that!”
“He’s handsome, but he’s also like a brother. Please spare me from your drooling. I may vomit.”
“Alright, but while we’re on the subject of breathtakingly sexy men—you missed a total fox last night,” she teased. “Right after you left, a guy came in to talk to Sage. Sexy as fuck and covered in tats.”
I tucked my purse under the desk and sat on the stool Sage brought up, relieved to have a place to rest. I didn’t like relying on it, but sometimes my body had other ideas. “Sounds delish.”
She fanned her face dramatically. “Hell yeah. I hope he stops back today so you get a good look at him. I wish he’d train naked here.”
I grinned, running an antibacterial wipe over my station’s tablet. “Hopefully not running on the treadmill or jumping rope. Not only will those hurt his free-range nutty buddies, but I’m not too sure I want to witness that carnage.”
She plucked a cake pop from the bag with a devilish smirk. “Jogging balls aren’t for you?”
“Sorry, not my cup of tea,” I laughed. “I’d hate to think what that must sound like. Can you imagine two chicken cutlets slapping together in the wind?”
“Okay, I’m eating here!” she choked out, her mouth stuffed with one of the round cake bites.
“Eating balls,” I muttered, shifting in my chair. “But there are worse things you could be doing on a Saturday morning.”
Georgie volunteered to wipe down equipment if I manned the desk during the nine o’clock rush, and I happily shook on that deal. I’d rather handle an endless swarm of stupid questions than come within a foot of someone else’s sweat.
The questions weren’t too bad, either, though a See You Next Tuesday called me stupid for not having a green tea dispenser installed. Luckily for her, I needed the job, otherwise she would’ve had a surprise cappuccino in her ombre bob.
As I finished up entering a new membership questionnaire, the front door opened again, likely ushering in a fresh wave of clients keen on getting their weekend warrior session in. I lifted my eyes to greet them, only to find the teenager from the day before—Cass.
She wore baggy sweatpants and a blue oversized tee tied at the side, her hair tied in two stumpy pigtails.
“Hey,” I greeted, happy to see a touch of a smile on her face rather than a scowl. “Here for your first class?”
She nodded. “Are you teaching it?”
“Oh, no,” I laughed, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t be very useful. My brother-in-law, Sage, handles the lessons. You’ll be in good hands.”
He’d taught me a great de
al, but I’d never been gifted in the whole teaching thing. That, and I fought a little too dirty after years in mosh pits. Most classes aimed for quick defense and fleeing, not clawing people like a cat in a bathtub.
Her eyes drifted toward the back, and the smile fell from her lips. “Can’t you show me?”
“I can’t; I have to run the front desk,” I explained. “Seriously, Sage is an awesome teacher. He taught me when I was your age, and I can still handle my own.”
Unfortunately, handling creeps and handling life were two very different things. All the classes in the world wouldn’t help me iron out my bullshit.
Her eyes narrowed, the smile returning. “Like a year ago?”
“Flattering me won’t get you anywhere,” I warned with a laugh. “Add almost a decade to that.”
Some of the sass from the day earlier made an unwanted reappearance as she cocked a hip. “You don’t look it.”
“Thanks.” She might’ve meant it as an insult, but with thirty closer than twenty on the calendar, I’d take it as a compliment.
“I don’t want to do this,” she grumbled, looking back at the ring. “Can’t I just sit here with you and leave when my time’s up?”
“Why did you sign up if you don’t want to take the class?” I asked. My parents couldn’t have forced me to sign up for jack at her age. Then again, I had the luxury of being the youngest. She had at least one younger sibling, so her parents hadn’t given up yet.
“My dad made me,” she explained. “He’s bossy as hell.”
I smirked, bending to file the entered membership application in the cabinet below the desk. “Most parents are. That’s how they keep us alive and out of trouble. Otherwise the world would be anarchy.”
“No—he’s worse. He treats me like I’m a kid.”
The irony of her words wasn’t lost on me, but I kept a straight face to let her vent. “He lets you have a little freedom though. At least you’re here alone without him watching. And he signed you up for self-defense classes. It’s better than tutoring or something else.”
