Fighting For Air Read online

  When we enter his office, I’m surprised to see I’m not the only one joining him. There’s a guy standing in front of the oak desk, staring out the window. He’s my age, give or take a year, but the look in his eyes is hardened. When he turns to look at us, that look in his eyes intensifies into pure hatred. It’s clear that he’s done time.

  “Caden. I want you to meet our new informant.” The guy crosses his arms over his chest, revealing two full tattoo sleeves. Since he’s obviously not going to introduce himself, I look at the chief for more information. “I’ll have his file put on your desk first thing.”

  “Wait.” I glance at the man, then the chief, in confusion. The last thing I want to do is show any weakness in front of this guy, but I must ask, “He’s mine?”

  “Yes, you’ll be overseeing his probation as well as meeting with him on a regular basis, and you’re going to be the head of the operation.”

  I’m stunned. I can’t think of any words right now. The chief glances up from his desk. “You put in for a promotion, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did.” It was a shot in the dark. My degree was a bullshit one from a crap college that offered online courses. I never thought I’d need it, since fighting was going to be my career. Still, a degree is a degree, and with it I technically met all the requirements. I just never believed I’d get it.

  “You’ll take a break from patrol. If this case goes well, we’ll make the position permanent. Is that a problem, Officer Larson?”

  “No, not at all.” The guy looks like he could care less about any of this. He’s itching at his tattoo sleeve absentmindedly, back to staring out the window.

  “Perfect. Jameson, this is Officer Larson. You’ll be working with him, as well as an undercover agent coming in from a different county.” I offer my hand to the guy, not because I care to show him respect, but because the chief is watching me. He takes it, shaking it twice, a little too hard.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” he says through gritted teeth. It’s clear he doesn’t want to be an informant. None of them ever do.

  “Same goes to you.” I take away my hand, fighting the urge to wipe it on my pants. He’s a clean guy, I’m just overreacting. It’s not like being a piece of shit is contagious.

  Chief waves us toward the door. “You’re dismissed then. You can take Jameson to your desk.”

  “Alright.” I turn around and head out of the office, pleased with the fact that Jameson follows. When we reach my desk, I pick up the promised file and begin scanning it. While I read, he waits, not so patiently.

  It takes me less than a minute to decide that he’s a shitty person. Possession of an illegal narcotic, heroin to be exact, with the intent to sell. About nine grand in his apartment, waiting to be laundered. Drugs in his system at the time of arrest. Possession of an illegally obtained weapon. Blood all over his clothes from an altercation that was never identified.

  This guy’s lucky he only got five to ten years. He’s damn lucky he got this deal only a year into it.

  When I glance up from the file I see him looking at the pictures of Caitlin and Cassie. The look of curiosity on his face makes me shiver. I shouldn’t have those up in here. How did I not see that before? He points to them as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Are they yours?”

  “Kind of.” It’s none of his damn business. Some people say that you should form a mild relationship with your informant, but I’m not that guy. “So, since you’re getting out early because of a deal there’s a few rules you need to follow.”

  He scoffs. “Just a few?”

  “Okay, a lot of rules.” If I wasn’t in such a good mood from the news of the promotion, I would tell him exactly what I think about his attitude. Who complains about following rules when they’re getting a second chance? This is his break, whether he likes it or not.

  “I’ll give you a full list, but obviously you need to stay away from illegal activity because of your probation. As for drinking, you-”

  “I won’t be doing that.” I almost snort at how unrealistic that seems, but then I look at him. There’s no humor in his eyes, leaving them a dead green. He scratches his stubble, annoyed that I’m smiling at him right now, and I believe him. Well, I believe that he believes it.

  “Alright.” Whatever floats his boat. If he believes he’ll magically become a shiny new person, good for him. Me, on the other hand? I believe pieces of shits don’t change.

  Chapter Eight

  Aubrey

  While most sane people are sleeping, I drag myself to the gym as the sun rises. I’m exhausted after spending the night trapped in nightmares. The supplement Caden gave me worked, but I now know that’s not a good thing. It’s better when I can wake up and escape, even if it means being exhausted the next day.

  Right off the bat, I can tell he’s not in a good mood. He doesn’t even glance at me when I walk up to the station he’s working at. Instead, he continues fiddling with the machine in front of him.

  “Good morning,” I finally say after another minute of being ignored.

  “Morning.” Still, his focus is on the machine. There can’t even be anything for him to mess with anymore. It’s one lever, a simple lift the seat up or down.

  “Should I get started, or?”

  “Yeah.” He finally looks at me, eyes squinting like I’m blurry. “Sorry, my mind is all over the place today. Lots going on at work.”

  I try not to feel hopeful that he’s offering up information about himself. Maybe he’s starting to warm up to me. Maybe I can try to warm up to him, since we’re obviously going to be spending a lot of time together.

  “It’s not a problem. Where do you want me?”

  “Uh, hop on a treadmill, just to warm up. Then we can start doing stations.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.” I honestly don’t mean the comment to come off sarcastic, but he shoots me a glare which means he takes it that way. Just like that, the possibility of warmth is ruined.

  As I go through my mile warmup, other members begin to trickle in. Guys smile at each other, shouting things back and forth as they set up for their workouts. I can’t help but feel a pang of loneliness. The only person I really know here can’t stand me.

  As if to rub it in, Caden leaves the machine he’s been mysteriously focused on, and walks over to a guy a few years older than me. He adjusts his form, steps back and watches him for a minute. A smile splits his face and he gives the guy a thumb up. I don’t think he’s ever done that, smiling while training me. At least not a real one. Training me doesn’t bring him any sort of joy, and I was fine with that when I thought he was just an asshole in general, but now I see it’s me that’s the issue.

  Still not looking at me, Caden joins a conversation with two guys next to the station we’re supposed to be starting at. I head over there, wiping my face with a towel. Rob’s basement didn’t have stations, so I have no idea what to do at most of them, including this one. Trying not to look too awkward, I stand and wait for him to come over and help. He doesn’t.

  They’re talking about a party. It’s apparently someone’s birthday, and since the gym is closed on Sundays, they’re throwing a huge bash. I try to remember the last time I was at a party. It had to have been at least a year ago, probably longer. The last one I can fully remember ended with me dragging an unconscious Elliot to the car, with the help of one of the other girlfriends.

  Eventually, after twenty minutes of my morning is wasted, Caden makes his way to me and explains the station. In between each round and each new station, he laughs and talks with the other guys in the gym, leaving me as an afterthought.

  Jason arrives at the gym just as I finish at my last station. I wipe the equipment off and rush over to his office before he can close the door. His head snaps up at the sound of my knock, but he doesn’t look too bothered by me.

  “I was just thinking about you, Aubrey.” His smile is warm, but cautious. “I hope you’re settling in okay.”

  I glance out the large window that takes up half of his office wall. There’s a ring in the center of the gym, and it was empty just a minute ago. Now, there are two people fighting in it, one of them looking a lot like Caden.

  “I like it here.” It’s not a lie. It’s not the truth either. I miss Rob’s basement, with its warm lighting and Classic rock. I miss Rob. My life had been a mess when he found me and showed me how to fight. If it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be here anymore. Then again, if it wasn’t for him, I would have escaped the burden of having to interact with Caden Larson.

  “It’s just-” I stop, looking out the window again. It is Caden fighting in the ring. I recognize his bright blue tap out shorts. What a total asshole. He makes me do stations but hops in the ring first chance he gets to help someone else out?

  “Different?” Jason asks, attempting to fill in the blank for me.

  “Yeah. It’s just different.” I yank my attention away from the window and back to him, but it’s too late. Jason glances out over to see what I was looking at, eyes lighting up like he’s in on a joke. He probably is.

  “But it’s a good different, I hope?” I don’t answer, and instead we both watch Caden for a minute. Then Jason clears his throat and asks, “How is your training going?”

  “It’s pretty good. I want to fight, though.” We both watch as the boys in the ring push against each other. There’s no punching or kicking, just pushing. It’s a strange exercise, something I have never done before. It looks exhausting, but in a good way. I’d give anything to be doing something like that, or to be doing anything, other than conditioning.

  “Caden doesn’t fight, Aubrey.” I shift my gaze to Jason. The world tilts, reshaping into something I should recognize, but can’t.

  “What do you mean, he d
oesn’t fight?”

  “He quit, a year ago.” I knew this. My google search, though not extensive, revealed this. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t fight though. That just means he doesn’t do it competitively, right? I can feel a headache starting to form.

  “You’re telling me he doesn’t fight? Like, at all? Not even here, with the other guys?”

  I glance out the window again. He’s in the ring, that’s true, but he’s not fighting. It’s just an exercise.

  Have I seen him fight? Now that I think about it, I haven’t. The only punches he’s thrown have been at a Bobby or a bag.

  “You’re correct. I’m surprised he’s even in the ring right now.”

  “Let me get this straight. You gave me a trainer who refuses to fight?” Jason nods, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. There he goes again with that secret I’m not in on. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Do you need something today, Aubrey?” The air in the office shifts, him not liking the way I questioned his decisions. When I don’t answer him, he stands up to usher me out.

  “Because I have a bunch of paper work that needs to be filled out,” he informs me, a slight annoyance in his voice.

  “Yeah.” I try to remember why I came in here, my thoughts now feeling sticky. “I was hoping you would allow me to work out tomorrow morning. I know there’s no training on Sundays, but I wouldn’t need Caden. There’s just a lot I need to work on, and I could really use the extra time.”

  “No.”

  “But-”

  “No.” I open my mouth to protest again but think better of it, since I already made him crabby by questioning him once.

  Jason brings me to the door, dropping me off at the exit like a child. “Aubrey, go out tonight. Let off some steam. There’s a party, and everyone from the gym will be there. You should go.”

  “I wasn’t invited.”

  “I’m sure you will be.” We stare each other down for a moment. There’s a clear implication that this isn’t a request.

  “I don’t drink.” He continues to stare at me, his eyes dull and tired. This was an obvious statement, since I’m both underage and under contract.

  “I really think you should go.” The phone rings, and he takes the opportunity to turn his back on me and walk away.

  Feeling like I was just scolded, I sulk out of the office. When I round the corner, I run face first into a sweaty chest. Caden places his hands on my upper arms to brace me as I stumble back. It’s so random, so unplanned, that I snap back for a moment. Equipment and safety are no longer surrounding me, and I’m suddenly back in that apartment, Elliot pushing me against the wall.

  “Don’t touch me!” My own voice takes me away from the moment, but not before I shove him.

  Caden takes a step back and waves his hands in the air. “Chill the fuck out, I saved you from falling on your ass.”

  He thinks I’m being a bitch, which is better than him knowing what just happened to me. The bubbling in my chest won’t slow down, creating an obstacle for me to breathe. With each inhale, my body lies to me, saying I’m not getting the oxygen I know I am. If he notices, he doesn’t care.

  “You know, Aubrey, there’s a party tonight. You should come, since you’re so much fun and everything. I bet everyone would just be so happy to see you there.” His sarcasm pisses me off, but the anger does good things to me. It takes my mind off the fact that I’m drowning in air. The fire replaces the bubbles, and I let it save me.

  Just as I’m about to tell him where he can stick his stupid party invitation, Jason interrupts, “She was just telling me how she’s so excited to go.”

  “I doubt that.” Caden says once Jason is out of ear shot. He chuckles, and I want more than anything to ask him what this joke is that everybody is in on.

  “What’s so funny, asshole?”

  “Oh, nothing. Party starts at 9. Bring your gloves.” He winks at me and walks away. I stand there confused and pissed off. Bring my gloves? Whatever this ongoing joke is, whatever has everyone besides me so fricken happy, I’m not appreciating it.

  Chapter Nine

  Aubrey

  “So, I, um. I kind of made plans tonight.” Myla doesn’t look at me as she says this, staring instead at her empty plate. I’m pretty sure she could sense my mood from the moment I walked in today. Normally, I would feel guilty, but I’m still too infuriated to care.

  “With gas station guy?” It bothers her that I don’t call him by his name, but I honestly don’t remember it. Not that I tried.

  “Yes. With Jesse.”

  “Great.” Knowing I need to say something, anything, to make the conversation less awkward, I feign interest and ask, “What are you guys going to do?”

  It’s a dangerous question. She could answer simply, or she could gush. Thankfully, she chooses the first. “Just seeing a movie, maybe bring him back here after.” She shifts in her seat. “If I do, I’ll keep it down.”

  “Myla, you’re fine. It’s why we got our own place, remember?”

  “Yes. Well, that and the fact that I don’t have a family and your parents are nauseating.” I choke on my chicken and she laughs. “Sorry, too much?”

  “Honestly? Not enough. You know, the one thing that was good about dating Elliot was the look on my parents faces when he walked in.” Her smile slips before she can catch it.

  It hurts that there’s a section of my life that’s awkward to bring up. That’s blackened by his presence. Thankfully, Myla’s skilled at handling these situations, always knowing how to lighten my darkness.

  “I wish I could have been there to see that. Your mother was probably so fantastically pissed. Oh my god, and when she saw his tattoos? Her face must have been priceless.” She lets out a laugh, and I let myself join in. The air feels better again.

  I take a sip of water and decide to rip the band-aide off. “Anyway, I have plans too. There’s a party I’m going to check out.”

  “Oh.” She puts her fork down and smiles up at me. The look she gives me is the same look I used to get from my mother, stuffed full of expectation. I shudder.

  “It’s nothing. Seriously. I’m pretty much going just to piss off Caden.”

  “Caden?”

  “Yeah, the douche who’s been training me. He invited me as a joke so now I have to go.” I stab at my asparagus, imagining it’s Caden’s face. “I’m probably going to have to bond with people.”

  “Oh. I’m so proud of you, honey.” Her voice is extra high and airy. I laugh at her great impression of my mother.

  “Screw you.” I push at her face and explain myself. “It’s just some people from the gym. It was kind of implied that it’s mandatory, anyway.”

  “Ooh, some people from the gym.” She beams. “The all boy gym.”

  “Yes, Myla. There will be boys there. But I doubt it’s exclusively male.” At least I hope that’s the case. It would be awkward to be the only girl at the party.

  “Well, either way, boys are good. We like boys, remember?”

  “I don’t have the time or energy for a relationship right now. I just started training.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She stands up and starts clearing the table. By the amused look on her face, it’s clear she doesn’t believe a word.

  I excuse myself, “I’m gonna take a shower and get ready.”

  “Alright. It’s already pretty late so I might be gone by the time you get out.” She glances at the clock, then back at me with a concerned look. “Call me if you need anything tonight.”

  “I’ll be fine, My.” Sadly, I’m already doubting if this will be true. I haven’t been to a party since Elliot.

  Dating a drug dealer was wild. It’s been a nice change, just sitting around reading books, or training. I can’t even remember the last time I washed puke out of my hair or screamed my lungs out at two in the morning. Not that I plan on letting tonight’s party end either of those two ways.

  As I strip down, I imagine that I’m shrugging out of all those memories, leaving them on the floor to crumple. While waiting for the water to warm up, I study myself in the mirror. Caden is probably right about the whole needing to gain weight thing. All the stress these past two years really scraped it off me. What used to be a healthy amount of fat and muscle is now angles and bones. Elliot liked me this way, tiny and easy to throw around. Breakable.