“I thought Landon owned it?” Olivia muses.

  “They both do now, but it was Drew’s before.”

  “Is he hot?” Harriet asks.

  I open my mouth to answer, but the words won’t come out. I’m not sure why, but I feel like I can’t say the words. Three small letters.

  Yes.

  “I, um, I guess.”

  “You’re blushing,” Olivia teases.

  Gabby pouts. “Why couldn’t you be gay?”

  I chuckle. “You’ll find someone.”

  “Not with the way she acts,” Olivia argues.

  “What’s wrong with the way I act?” Gabby defends.

  “You’re too bubbly.”

  “I’m bubbly,” I point out.

  “Not her kind of bubbly.”

  Gabby huffs out a breath. “And you are too bitter and argumentative.”

  “At least I’m getting some,” Olivia argues.

  “A vibrator doesn’t count,” Gabby snaps back.

  I laugh, pushing a cupcake Gabby’s way. “Stop it, you pair.”

  “Why you two can’t just have sex and get it over with is beyond me,” Emily declares, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “Take that back,” Gabby hisses, and for a moment, I swear I see a flicker of hurt.

  Before it can get out of hand, I interrupt. “Want to watch a scary movie one night?”

  “Can we bring alcohol?” Olivia asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Will your cat be there?” Harriet murmurs, her gaze flicking to my arms that are covered in scratches.

  I chuckle. “She’ll be good.”

  She hums under her breath, not believing me. “Does it have to be scary movies?”

  “Yes,” we all reply, laughing when she slumps back in her seat.

  This is what I’ve missed.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” I tell them, my voice filling with emotion. “And I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

  “Never again,” Harriet warns.

  “Oh, before we forget, Dave said to tell you you’ve got free entry for a month and a free drink the next time you come in.”

  “Really?” I ask, because normally he’s tight when it comes to money. I remember watching him yell at a bartender for giving out free shots.

  Emily chuckles. “Yeah, don’t tell him but I think he misses you.”

  “It really hasn’t been the same without you there on a Friday.”

  “I miss you guys too,” I tell them honestly.

  Because I have.

  “We can’t stay much longer but we will all book the same day off next week and get sitters.”

  “You’re working today?”

  Harriet nods, her jaw clenching. “Trixie wants us all to do a new routine.”

  My eyes widen. “But didn’t you guys get a new instructor?”

  “Yeah, and that bitch is sucking his dick,” Olivia bites out. “I swear she does it knowing it fucks up our routine. We prefer doing our own. We know what the men like.”

  “Would you like me to help?”

  Emily begins to choke on her drink. “No. No offence, Charlotte, but you nearly took my eye out the last time you tried to help.”

  I grimace. Maybe it’s best I don’t help. “Unless you know a space in which we can practice, then we’ll figure it out. The only reason Trixie is getting away with bossing us around is because she has the studio space.”

  “My library, but then there’s nowhere to put your poles.” I know they have some adjustable ones they can put up or down when they like. “If I do think of somewhere, I’ll let you know.”

  Harriet gives me a bright smile. “Cheers, bab.”

  I lift my hand, grabbing Josie’s attention. If we don’t have long together before they have to leave, I’m making the most of their company. Because they make me feel like me again. I don’t feel broken for the first time in weeks.

  I missed them.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DREW

  The last of our clients leave for the day just as Az finishes wiping down the last bit of equipment.

  “See you tomorrow,” he calls out.

  “Later,” I call back.

  I glance over at Landon, who comes out of the changing rooms, and inwardly groan. The guy can hold a grudge without even meaning to.

  “Are you going to keep being mad at me?”

  “I’m not mad. I’m just pissed you didn’t come to me first. I wanted to be the one to teach her.”

  “You know why you can’t,” I remind him.

  “Fuck that shit,” he growls. “You should have said something and you know it.”

  “Mate, I didn’t know I was going to ask until I did. I didn’t lie about finding her purse that night. I took it straight to her,” I tell him. “Plus, I don’t think she’s coming so you have nothing to worry about.”

  I glance at the door once more. There’s still no sign of her and she was meant to be here twenty minutes ago. If she’s coming, she would have been here. I was stupid to even think she would. It’s still too soon, and she’s recovering.

  “I’m gonna head out. I need to fix some lights at the bed and breakfast,” Landon announces, grabbing his bag off the side.

  I follow him out to the front, pulling the keys out of my back pocket. I’m going to finish up with a few things then head home myself.

  “Well, guess I’m staying.”

  “What?” I ask, looking up.

  Charlotte is pacing outside, her lips moving a mile a minute. My lips tug into a smile as she begins to wave her hands around, like she’s arguing with herself.

  Landon pushes through the door. “Charlotte?”

  She jumps, whirling around to face us. She places her hand over her chest. “You scared me.”

  “You came?”

  She nods. “I said I would.”

  I get a good look at her and nearly choke on my tongue. Her yoga leggings cling to every inch of her body, showcasing the curve of her round arse. Her top is short, showing her creamy-coloured skin, and it pushes her boobs up and together. Over it, she has on a purple fleece jacket.

  And her hair. I’m not sure what the fuck it is with her hair, but I can’t pull my gaze away. It’s so bright, so full of life, just like her. It’s tied up in a messy bun, tiny strands falling down, feathering her face.

  “Good, I’ll show you where to set up,” he tells her, but I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

  “I can’t have you here whilst I teach her.”

  “Why the fuck not?”

  I look to the sky before meeting his gaze. “Because you have a short temper. Because if you think I’m hurting her or she can’t handle it, you’ll snap. You’ll—”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Landon,” Charlotte calls out, reaching for his hand. “Go. I’ll be fine here.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “Harriet dropped me off.”

  “The stripper?”

  “Stripper?” I repeat, gawking at Charlotte. “I thought you owned a library?”

  “She’s not a stripper,” Landon growls.

  She shrugs one shoulder. “Yes, that Harriet. And I can walk back. It’s fine.”

  “I’ll take you back,” I offer when I see Landon go to intervene once again.

  He stares at Charlotte for a moment, then briefly at me before I watch him sigh in defeat. “Text me when you’re home and you can let me know how it goes.”

  “I will,” she promises, and leans up, kissing him on the cheek.

  He gives us a salute before heading to his car. Charlotte whirls around, her big green eyes sparkling up at me.

  I gesture toward the door. “Come in.” She follows and I close the door behind us. “Have you been here before?”

  “No, I haven’t. Gyms really aren’t my thing.”

  “What is your thing?”

  I close my eyes, inwardly groaning. Did I have to sound like I was coming onto her?

  “Books. I like books.” She stops in the middle of the gym, staring at all the equipment. “What is this one?” she asks.

  “That’s a seated lat pulldown. It works your waist and arms, but mostly your back muscles.”

  “And will I be using these?”

  She’s nervous. There’s a tremble in her voice. “Not today, but you’re more than welcome to use them once you’ve been trained to.”

  She nods. “So, what are we doing?”

  “I’m not sure how other instructors work but depending on the client, I use the first session to get to know them, know their limits.”

  “And how do you do that?” she whispers.

  “I watch them. Most survivors of any kind of traumatic event have a lot of pent-up anger. Whether they smother it down or lock it away, it’s there. And to move forward with my approach, I need them to come to terms with that feeling. I want them to embrace it and use the techniques I teach as a tool to calm themselves.”

  “And you’ve done this before?”

  I nod. “I have. I’ve done it with a few people who have been beaten by a spouse, or randomly while on a night out, and some who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “And these women are okay now?”

  I shrug. “It’s not just women who come here, Charlotte. I have men who have been beaten because of their sexual orientation, because of their spouses or just because they seemed like easy pickings,” I explain. “Are they okay? That’s a hard question for me to answer, but I know each of them are now stronger and more confident.”

  “It’s so good what you are doing here,” she tells me. “But I’m not angry. I don’t really get angry. There was this one time but the guy deserved it. He was trying to hurt Faith and the muffins were there and I—” She stops as a blush rises up her cheeks. “I’m not angry. I’m disappointed I let it happen.”

  “I don’t know the details of what happened. Landon has spoken a little about it but not what actually happened. I’m only putting two and two together.” I pause when I see her lip begin to tremble. “But no matter what, never be disappointed in yourself.”

  “So, what do we do now if I’m not angry? Do we move onto the next step?”

  I smirk because I get this a lot. It’s just adorable coming from Charlotte’s lips. I head over to the punching bags and hand her a pair of gloves.

  She takes them from me, her nose twitching. “Um…”

  “Put them on,” I tell her.

  She does as I say. “I don’t get it. I’m not angry so I really don’t need to do this.”

  “Close your eyes,” I demand, coming to stand in front of her as I slide the other glove onto her hand. “We’re going to do a little task, bring that hidden anger out.”

  “Okay,” she drawls slowly.

  “What do you dislike the most in the world?”

  “People who hurt animals,” she replies instantly. “And tomato sauce.”

  I chuckle. “Tomato sauce?”

  She shudders. “Tastes like vinegar.”

  “I’m going to stand behind you. Keep those eyes closed.” Her breath hitches as I move. “Trust me.”

  “Okay.”

  “What else do you dislike?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  “I want you to bring your right leg forward a little,” I order. “Can I touch you to get you into position?”

  A squeak passes through her lips. “Position?”

  “Yes, to punch the bag when I say ready.” She nods and I help her into position before lifting her arm up. “This is the arm I want you to swing. Keep it at this angle and use your hips to put as much force into the punch as you can.”

  She tenses as I brush my fingers down her arm. I jerk away, stepping back to put distance between us. I hadn’t realised I was doing that. I clear my throat. “Think about what makes you angry. What happened. What could have happened. Think about your cat in the hands of someone who is cruel. Think about the person who hurt you, how it felt, how you felt.”

  I don’t even get to tell her to swing. She swings her arm out, hitting the bag in the centre.

  I walk around, coming to stand at her side. “Take a deep breath and feel it. Really feel it. And let it out. Each time you hit that bag, I want you to tell me what you are angry about, what you dislike.”

  “I hate that he lied to me.”

  Smack.

  “I hate that he hurt me.”

  Smack.

  “I hate that he took my virginity and tarnished what was meant to be special.”

  Smack.

  My eyes widen at her confession.

  Tears gather in her eyes as she hits the bag harder. “I hate that I let my parents and family down.”

  Smack.

  “I hate that I feel weak.”

  Smack.

  “I hate that this happened because I was being selfish.”

  Smack.

  “I hate that my mum can’t look at me without being reminded of what she went through.”

  Smack.

  Her chest rises rapidly as she struggles for breath. A sob hitches from her throat as she weakly throws another punch.

  “I hate that he’s out there and no one knows where.”

  Smack.

  “I hate that he could turn up and I’m too scared to tell my family.”

  “Charlotte,” I softly call out, beginning to worry I’ve pushed her too far.

  “I hate that I’ve lost a part of myself that I can’t find, and that others have noticed.”

  “Charlotte,” I demand, taking a step forward. She’s no longer hitting the bag with each admission. She’s hitting it with both hands, her voice rising.

  “I hate that he did this to me,” she screams.

  I step forward, but so does she, going for the bag. She’s no longer punching but smacking the bag.

  “I hate that he took a dream from me and I’ll never get it back.”

  “Charlotte,” I whisper, my heart aching as I watch the girl crumble before me.

  “But most of all, I hate that I hate myself,” she chokes out, right before she falls to her knees on the matt, sobs racking through her body. I follow, bending down to pull her into my arms.

  I don’t know much about her, but I know this isn’t her. I had hoped to gain a lot from this session, but not this. I didn’t think it went this deep.

  I also noticed she was madder at herself than she was with him; the guy who caused this.

  “It’s okay now. It’s okay,” I soothe.

  “I was so stupid. I feel like such a fool,” she cries out. “I gave myself to him and it was all a lie. He knew I wanted children, a husband. He knew all my secrets and desires. He knew what my virginity meant to me.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I continue to hold her, hoping like fuck Landon doesn’t come back and find us. He’d kick my arse if he knew.

  “I’m never going to have any of it. I’m going to be alone.”

  “Charlotte, you are young. One bad guy doesn’t define them all.”

  “It does if you’re me,” she tells me, blinking up at me.

  I’m struck by her beauty. “What do you mean?”

  “No one wants me. I’m not sure people really like me and I try. I really do try. He was my chance at a happily ever after.”

  “Fairy tales aren’t real,” I remind her.

  “They are,” she whispers. “My family are proof of that.”

  “Life isn’t just about love. It’s about living, Charlotte. You can’t go on thinking this is it for you. There’s more out there.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  I can’t explain what I’m feeling. I have been around beautiful women plenty, so it isn’t that. It isn’t even the subject.

  It’s her.

  There’s just something about her.

  And I want her to know she can have it all.

  I clear my throat. “I really do.”

  She sits up, and bites her lip when she realises she’s sat between my legs. “I’m sorry for that.”

  I tap her chin. “That is exactly what we wanted. Now I know what I’m working with.”

  “I thought it was about self-defence classes.”

  I shake my head. “Self-defence is more than fighting off an attacker. It’s a way for those to feel strong again, to take back power. It can be a great healing tool, especially if it’s done right.”

  “Thank you,” she chokes out. “I didn’t realise I was even thinking some of those things until I said them.”

  “You’ve been through a lot,” I remind her. “And it hasn’t been that long since it happened.”

  “I know.”

  “I do think you should talk to your mum though. I can’t say for certain, but I think it may be in your head. You have a lot of self-doubt and it could be that you’re projecting.”

  “I just hate seeing the heartbreak on her face whenever I see her.”

  I duck my head. I had been guilty of that with Nora. “I did that with my sister. I hated that she never had us there to protect her, that her mum let her down once again. I was even mad at my dad for going to another junk yard to pick up some spare parts instead of being at home. I was furious with the guy who attacked her.”

  “Did they catch him?” she whispers.

  I nod. “Someone intervened and scared him off. He ran in front of a bus. And died.”

  Her eyes widen before she bursts out laughing, taking me off guard. She tries to stop, but more laughter spills free. “Oh God, I– I don’t mean to laugh,” she chokes out, laughing once again. My lips twitch as she places her hand over her mouth, but suddenly, her expression crumbles and she’s bursting into tears. “He’s still out there. I’m worried he’ll come back because he’s mad.”

  I grip her cheeks, and I know I’m pushing it. I know I shouldn’t be touching her. But I can’t help it. “He’ll never get to you. You have a family who are willing to do what it takes to protect you, and if he does come, I’m going to make you strong enough to fight back and get away.”

  “Like Hayden?”

  I grimace, letting go. I’ve met Landon’s sister and she’s scary as fuck. I swear my balls turned blue when she started fighting with Landon over a chicken.

  A chicken.

  That family is certifiably crazy.

  “Maybe not like Hayden,” I tell her.