Thawp. Thunk. Thawk! Thump. I pound on the bag with all my energy, trying to release the aggression boiling below the surface for days. I haven’t heard a word from Savannah, even though I called and texted like a pathetic fucking puppy. Loud heavy metal blares through my headphones. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t want to see that fucker. I need a home gym. I keep punching away the hope that the girl who is the star of every dream and fantasy will walk through that damn door. Fuckin’ pathetic.

I doubt she’d speak to me, even if she did come. She’d probably just go talk to fucking James. My fist lands on the bag even harder than before. I relish the burn in every muscle. I’m going to keep going until I’m no longer angry or I’m ready to fucking collapse, whichever comes first. I’d be an idiot to bet the anger releases before I collapse.

I’ve been like a fucking stalker and driven past her house once. Fine, twice. I wanted to pull over and pound on her door until she answered, but I thought the relentless stream of messages was probably enough. I get it. Message fucking received, Savannah. How did I end up the pussy in this situation? Everyone steers clear of me, even though I’ve tried to keep my anger to a minimum out in public, but each minute that passes without my phone alerting me that she has texted or called back, I get even more pissed. At her. At myself. At the whole fucking situation.

I made my sister cry at Monday night dinner by being the eternal jackass that I’ve become. She started asking questions that I tried to blow off, she didn’t take the hint, and I exploded, telling her to mind her own business. Josh almost launched himself across the table to strangle me. I think it would have been a welcome release from the shit brewing inside me. I left dinner early, throwing out a half-assed apology over my shoulder. I’m pissed about that, too. My family deserves better than that. What kind of asshole makes a pregnant woman cry?

I up the pace and force of each punch. I feel my muscles start to twitch below my skin; I know soon they’ll be quivering, and I’ll have to stop before I pass the fuck out in the middle of the gym. I keep playing different scenarios with Savannah in my head. Am I right? Am I even on the right track? Is she running from the cops? Was she in a gang? My scenarios have become so ridiculous. I don’t know what is happening with her, and I’ve come to realize there is so much I don’t know about her. I saw her and knew in my fucking bones that she is the type of woman you try to keep in your goddamn life. I tried to be open. I talked about my family, my work, most of my reasons for moving from Chicago.

Does she want someone like James who hides secrets just as much as she does? I have secrets. I have things I haven’t told her. I thought when she fully opened up to me, I would do the same with her. I’d give her the final reason she doesn’t know why I left Chicago. I’ll let her in on that one secret my family doesn’t even know. How dark I got. How far down the fucking rabbit hole I traveled. I pause my punches, not being able to resist for a second longer, and I look at my phone that I’ve kept on me since Saturday morning. Nothing. Nada. No missed messages. No missed calls. Dammit, Savannah, what do I have to do or say to get you to even speak to me?

“Would you show me how to use that machine over there? I can’t seem to figure it out.” A finger runs down my sweaty arm. I look up to see who the owner of the high-pitch voice is. A gym bunny. Great. Her bleached blonde hair is bright and obnoxious. Her face is hidden under layers of makeup. Her body is barely covered by a sports bra too small for her busty chest, and I’m sure if I looked hard enough, I’d see her ass and pussy hanging out of those tiny shorts. “You look like someone who knows how to use all the equipment.” She looks down at my dick, making sure I don’t miss her innuendo.

I step out of her reach. “I’m a not a trainer. And I’m busy.”

“Maybe you could help me get a workout in another way.”

I look at her, expecting my dick to at least twitch. It does nothing. I can’t believe this is the type of woman I slept with in Chicago. If her hair was her natural color and she wiped off that makeup, she would be beautiful. I don’t know what happened in her life to make her feel like she has to throw herself at a man, but she chose the wrong angry man today.

“Not interested.”

She steps back into my space, pressing her tits against me. One of her hands lands on my bare stomach and starts traveling down.

I remove her hand and tell her, “I’m not fucking interested. Find someone else.” I put my headphones back on and start punching the bag again. When I glance to my side to make sure she left, I see James standing in his office door. The hulking brute has his arms crossed over his chest, glaring my way. I shoot him a glare right back and punch the bag with all my force, silently telling him to fucking step off. I turn my full attention back to the bag.

I put up my fist, stopping the bag’s swing when a shadow lands next to me. Fucker didn’t listen. I swing my glare his way.

“What the fuck is your problem?” James demands.

“Don’t have one.” I face toward him, matching his stance—arms crossed over chest, feet shoulder-width apart. He has a couple of inches on me, but we’re matched in our strength.

He stares at me, expecting me to change my answer. My mind starts racing. Does he know something? Did Savannah talk to him? That would be fucking rich.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve been watching you beat my punching bag to a bloody pulp. What’s up? You already fuck up with Sav?”

“Like you don’t know.”

He cocks an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Ever elusive, always keeping damn secrets.

“You can take your secret-keeping ass somewhere else and leave me the fuck alone.”

“It’s my gym, jackass. If one of us is leaving, it ain’t gonna be me.”

I glare at him, resisting the urge to punch his smug face. “Does Savannah know all of your secrets like you know hers?”

“I don’t know all her secrets. She has shared just enough with me.”

“Why the fuck have you seen what is on her body, but she refuses to give me a glimpse into her life?”

He goes stock-still, watching me with a renewed interest and curiosity. I see the wheels turning in his head as he searches for just the right words. “What do you mean? What’s on her body?”

“Don’t play that shit with me. I know you know about her tattoo. Why is it even a big deal?”

James visibly sighs, as if relieved. Even more suspicion flares in my mind. I ball my fists at my sides, ready to charge him and demand information.

“I only know about the tattoo because Savannah and I met at the tattoo shop where she got it done. She went to my guy. I just wanted to be there when she came in the first time. That’s all I’m telling you, Liam. The rest you get from her.”

I swing my arms out to my side. “What the hell do you think I’ve been trying to do? She hasn’t spoken to me in days because I saw a glimpse of it and asked questions.”

“You don’t know what it is?” James says carefully.

“No. Apparently only you do.”

He smirks. I ball my hands into fists again, ready to break his fucking jaw to wipe that damn smirk off his face.

“You need to make her talk to you. She will. That’s all I’m saying. That shit is her story.”

He starts to walk away before turning back to me. “If you ever bring that attitude into my gym again, I will fucking break you. If you break Savannah’s trust after she reveals her damn soul to you, like I know she will, then I will make sure not a damn person ever finds your fucking body.”

I’d like to see him try to break me. He smirks again like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.