Page 7 of Guardian
My father loved old Western movies.There’s that phrase they use, something like “This town ain’t big enough for the both of us.”Well, Belle Argo isn’t big enough for me with Liam Masters in it.
“The faster I can get out of town, the better,” I tell them all.I focus on managing another ten reps rather than looking around, because I can guess at the looks on my sort-of friends’ faces.I’ve seen it all before.
“Besides”—my body heats.I don’t like the growl in my voice or how I can’t keep my rising frustration down—“it doesn’t make to sense give up my ass to a hundred guys over the course of months.Not when I can use this opportunity to make a bunch of money all in one shot.”
Everything’s quiet again, except theclankof the weight stack as I do each rep.Which makes me finally sit up and look at all of them.Everyone’s looking sort of surprised.Or sad.Or in the case of PJ, his face is sort of angry and red?
“What are you all looking at?”
Adam swallows.“We, uh, didn’t know you were planning to leave town.”
“Oh.”I take a breath, standing to wipe the machine.Nobody else does it here, but I can’t stand not to.It’s rude.“Well, it’s for the best.And it’s my decision.Not yours.”
“Rav, we’re trying to help,” PJ insists.
It would be easier if they weren’t.
Maybe I can travel around the country for a while.Maybe I’ll find someplace that really feels like home.Someplace I belong.
When I bend down to the floor to retrieve my water bottle, my hand catches on a rough piece of metal at the base of the leg press machine.It’s only a little blood, but the dizziness hits me before I can even straighten up again.My forehead bumps the machine, threatening an even worse problem.
“Not again,” I murmur.I hate when this happens.With my hands braced on my knees, I try to steady myself so I can stand.
It doesn’t help that after running into that warehouse, I’ve had some lingering issues.Since detoxing in the hospital, I’m doing better, but I still have weird spikes and dips in my blood pressure.
“Rav, are you okay?Here.Sit.I’ll be right back.”Troy guides me over to a bench before running out of the room.
Mr.Monroe is checking my forehead for some reason.I don’t want to be rude, but I’m sure I don’t have a fever.
“Your pulse is a little high,” Adam says.I didn’t even notice he’d grabbed my arm.I try to shake him off politely, if there even is such a thing.
“Guys, I’m fine.”But they keep fussing.
“Here.”Troy returns after a few minutes, shoving a green smoothie in my face.“Drink it.The veggies and fruit will help.I had them leave out the honey.I know you don’t like it.”
“Oh.Thanks.”I’m not hungry, but I appreciate the gesture, so I take the drink.Besides, I seem to have the metabolism of a hummingbird.I’ve learned the hard way that I shouldn’t skip meals even when I might prefer to.
“Since when did you become such a mother hen, man?”PJ pokes at Troy.
“Since always,” Adam mutters.“Ask me how I know.”
“Your body needs nutrients to recover from the damage the drugs did.”Troy glares at Adam before returning his attention to me.“Saw it plenty on the street.”
“Thanks, Troy.”Drinking something green seems gross, but I take a sip anyway.“Although, I’m guessing the guys you lived with on the street didn’t have access to kale smoothies.”
“Malnutrition is a huge problem, yeah.Which is why I know you need to drink that,” Troy insists.
Well.It’s easier to drink the smoothie than be rude, after he went to the trouble.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be working out yet,” Mr.Monroe suggests.
Even if he’s right, I’ll walk into traffic before I agree.If I agree with Mr.Monroe, then I’m agreeing with Liam.Which is not happening.
“I want to try and put on some muscle before the auction,” I explain.
“I say this with love, Rav,” Adam says, “but that’s not super likely.It takes months to put on muscle, and you’re…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence.He doesn’t need to.
