“Looking good today,” Bruce calls out when I walk into Raise the Bar. I flip him the bird as I walk past him straight to the punching bags suspended from the ceiling in the back of the warehouse-like gym. He’s asked me out relentlessly over the past couple of years, never quite taking the hint that I’m not interested. The grunting and roaring noises he makes to attract attention to himself always make me chuckle. I’m surprised he even saw me walk in, he’s usually too distracted by his own reflection to notice anything around him.

The women who hang out at the gym wearing very little clothing (and they don’t even work out) flock to him, hope to grab his attention or any other man’s attention, including the owner, James.

James doesn’t like that these women come here, but he says he’s not sure he wants to limit who can and can’t come in the gym. He hosts self-defense classes for women and doesn’t want to turn anyone away who might need help. That’s how I got started at this gym. James knew I was in trouble and in need of some serious help. He coaxed me into letting him teach me self-defense. Slowly James started hosting classes. He will allow anyone into classes without signing up for a membership. Over time, James became like a brother to me. I trust him implicitly. He watches out for me while I’m here, making sure I feel safe and secure.

I walk to my usual punching bag, drop my duffle to the floor, and pop in my earbuds. I never keep my duffle too far away when I’m here, and I never go into the locker room. It’s something I have been trying to work toward, having confidence to change in front of other people, but the scars and the ink covering them stop me. When I first started here, I didn’t think it would bother me. It’s a women’s locker room. I didn’t think I would be judged. I only took off my shirt in that place one time. I haven’t set foot in there since.

I see Kristy following James. I grit my teeth. Her ass hangs out of her shorts. She grabs his arm and presses her boobs against his chest. I watch as he tries to disentangle himself. I love that James is such a good man, but I wish he would throw her out of here. I can’t forget what she said about me while I stood in that locker room. Naked and vulnerable. It was early morning and I didn’t think anyone else was there. The tattoo I was getting to cover the scars wasn’t even a complete outline. She said harsh words to her friend and I didn’t have the confidence at the time to reply. I threw on a shirt and marched out of the gym. I don’t have tolerance for bullies. There’s only one person on this earth who I want to confront, and he’s the reason I take self-defense classes and beat the shit out of a bag every day, everything else is just a distraction.

I wrap my hands in tape, readying myself for my workout. I start slow, letting my muscles ease into each punch and dodge. I allow the aggression from yesterday seep from my body, every pore of skin. I don’t accept many dates. I hate that the first one I went on in a long time was with a total asshole. I hate that I put myself in that position. I hate that Kristy is here. She’s not usually at the gym when I visit. I’ve learned the ins and outs of this gym well, and I try to schedule myself to be here when others are not. And I hate that Kristy is trying to sink her claws into James.

I’m punching with a steady rhythm now. Hard, fast, steady. A punch for each scar. A punch for each memory. A punch for each promise. I let every feeling and emotion into every punch until I am nothing but memories and vows. I’m slowly becoming slicked in sweat. A cool rush sweeps over my back. The hair on the back of my neck slowly rises. I stick out my wrapped fist to stop the bag. I’m being watched. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whomever I find. It’s not a foreign feeling for me to think I’m being watched. I’ve spent the past several years looking over my shoulder, feeling a prickling along my spine. I haven’t ever seen anyone, but I won’t let my guard down.

I slowly scan the entire gym. There are people spread throughout the vast space. I see Hudson and a guy I’ve never seen before looking in my direction, but I don’t think they are watching me. Hudson wouldn’t watch me. I continue my scan. No one else is looking in this direction. I swing my eyes back to Hudson and his friend, staring into his eyes for a beat. The gaze I feel must be his. Thinking I’m paranoid for no reason, I nod hello to Hudson and go back to pounding the bag.

My hits are becoming fiercer. My paranoia of someone watching me makes me angry. I am prepared. I am ready. He’s not here. Everyone who is here belongs. Fear will slow me down. I. Will. Not. Back. Down.

I can’t shake the feeling. My senses are still on fire. I feel eyes on me. Scanning me. I stop punching, resting my fist against the bag. I look down at the floor, trying to slow my breathing. I shouldn’t be breathing this heavily at this stage in my workout. I scan the room again, but slower this time. Bruce is still staring at himself while he curls enormous dumbbells. Kristy is standing just off the side of him stretching, her ass in the air, eyes locked on Bruce. People by the cardio area are focused, staring at nothing. James doesn’t keep TVs, he finds them distracting. I look back to where Hudson was standing. He’s still there, but he’s not looking my way anymore. He’s talking and looking at the man standing next to him.

That man. I realize he’s looking at me when our gazes lock. I don’t feel creeped out when I look at him; it shouldn’t be his stare making me feel this way, but I can’t find anyone else looking in my direction. His dark eyes are locked on mine, not wavering. His expression is clear, giving nothing away to the reasons he’s looking at me. Before I look at him too much, a broad chest comes into my line of sight. I look up at James.

“Okay?” he asks as his eyebrows draw in and his mouth settles into a firm, flat line.

“Yeah, I just...” I rub my wrapped hand over my hair, looking down at the ground. I shake my head, silently pleading the panic will disappear.

“Just...?” James prompts me quietly. He tucks his finger under my chin to raise my head. My eyes meet his—telling him everything without uttering a word.

“Nothing. It’s no big deal. How are you today? Do you need any help with the dinner this week?” I force a fake smile. He sees right through it and narrows his eyes. I shake off my paranoia and change the subject to alleviate his concerns.

“Fine. Nope.” James is a man of few words, choosing to answer each of my questions with a singular word. Even though he doesn’t say much, his presence calms me. When he chooses to speak more than a few syllables, his words pack a punch harder than I could ever hit.

“You know, James, you have such a way with words, you should write poetry.”

His lips twitch at the corners, holding back a smile. A smile I know he won’t unleash. His steel gray eyes are light with amusement, only for a split second, though, before he morphs his bronze face into a scowl. I know he’s not angry with me, or with my sarcastic comments. People steer clear of James, scared of that burly muscle and the fierce tattoos, but to me, he’s just a big teddy bear. He would toss my ass out of here if I ever told anyone that.

“You should watch that mouth,” he says. “It will get you into trouble someday.”

“Pretty sure you know me better than that, lollipop. It’s already gotten me into plenty of trouble.” He rolls his eyes at my nickname. I’m in constant search for a new sweet name that will annoy him. “Hey, who’s that guy with Hudson?”

James peeks over his massive shoulder to where Hudson and that guy were standing. I can’t see around James’ massive frame. He swings his head back to me and gives a small shoulder shrug. “A friend of Hudson’s.”

I wave my hand in a continue-on motion. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t speak. “Reach your word count for the day?” I ask.

“You’re full of jokes today. I’ll throw you out of my gym if you keep it up.”

“Did I make the teddy bear angry?” I give him my best pouty face.

He leans in, towering over me. “You know, most people are scared of me.”

“Eh,” I say and give a wave of my hand. I know he could probably break me in half with two fingers and wouldn’t hesitate to put a threat of someone he cares about in the ground. But, I know there is something deep down inside that is all warm and fuzzy. Okay, maybe not warm and fuzzy, but definitely sweeter than the exterior he shows most people. “You couldn’t scare me if you tried. Now, who is he?”

This time a real scowl does take over his face. And, for a split second, a splash of fear coats my stomach. His answer is clipped. “Don’t know. His name is Liam. Moved back to town from Chicago. Seems like they’re old friends. Why?”

“Just wondering. He was staring at me.”

His face softens, just the slightest bit. “Want me to say something?”

“No. I didn’t know who he was. I hadn’t ever seen him before, I was curious.”

He watches my face for another beat and then walks away. Hudson and his friend have moved from their spot. I focus on my workout. Punch, punch, punch.

Again, I pause my punches, look up and lock eyes with him. I give him a small smirk.

Liam.