Page 9 of Never Till Now

I manage to avoid him on most of the circuits and pace myself well until the last station. Long, weighted ropes meet their challenger, and an internal cry cuts within. Arm strength is my weakness, but there’s a strong gnawing need to prove myself to he who still remains nameless. I bend my knees and feel the ropes burn my shoulders as much as my legs. My abs ignite with fire and I release a breath. The pain turns into an addictive need to push myself. The heaviness grows with each lash as Charmer approaches.

I had high hopes I could actually finish this class in peace.

“More,” he encourages.

I feel the sweat pool at my forehead and channel my annoyance with him into the ropes.

“Come on, Blondie.” His voice lowers as he leans in closer. “I know you can pant harder than that.”

His breath hits my ear, challenging me to feed his ego.

My eyes focus forward in the mirror and recall the past few hours of my shift. The pain. The anger. The helplessness I harbor is one of the main reasons that drove me toward my career. I try to focus on beating the ropes instead of the defeat I faced today. My stomach turns as the room blurs. A voice says something, but I can’t make it out as I continue to beat the ropes through a cloud of stars.

Then, everything goes dark.

Cool water trails down my forehead and over my eyes as I squint. What the hell? I hear a faint voice as my eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights above me. A large figure appears over me, and I rub my eyes. Deep-brown eyes look down at me as he takes a knee and brushes a loose strand of hair off my forehead. The stubble from his five o’clock shadow shouldn’t have me wanting to reach out and touch it, so I fight the urge.

“When I said breathless, I didn’t mean to go and pass out.”

I sit up as I watch the other classmates start to clear out of the room.

“I only ever give it my all,” I reply and accept the hand he offers to help me stand.

“Let me buy you some pizza. I know a great place.” His tone is genuine. “You worked hard at whatever was going through your head.”

For some reason, I find myself smiling and nodding.

We eat in silence at a small pizza joint that most people wouldn’t find unless they really know the area. Hands down, this is the best pizza I have ever had. Not that I’m a pizza connoisseur beyond frozen boxes from a grocery store or a slice from childhood Chuck-e-Cheese’s birthday party. Charmer fixates his eyes down or off to the side giving me headspace. Yet at the same time, trying to watch and wonder what the hell I’m thinking about. His eyes scream the brief moment they meet mine, desperate for an answer. If he wasn’t so hot, it would be pathetic. But he doesn’t ask. He lets me think.

I wrap my arms around myself as the chill from the bay rolls up a hill. Though it’s July, San Francisco’s temperature drops with the sun. We cross the street and reach a grassy park on a hill overlooking the city lights. The lights glow to a blur as I let my eyes soften their focus. My lungs expand as calmness washes over me for the first time today. I’ve never gone to therapy, though I’m well aware it could help with my past and job field. I’ve managed to find ways of coping with my darkness and cluttered mind. The cool wind hits my face, and a car beeps its horn, pulling me from my trance. Charmer keeps his gaze ahead, but I can see his eyes drift to me every few moments.

I still don’t know his name. Part of me likes that he is at a distance. An acquaintance at best, who has bought me food and dished out orgasms. Oh, and brought me back to consciousness after I blacked out.

My mind flashes back to work and I feel anger resurface, building in my gut. I focus on the lights again. Charmer takes slow deep breaths, probably on purpose if he’s so magically in tune to sense me. I mimic his breaths, desperate to feel light again. The words flow out of me before I can stop them.

“A newborn was found today and brought in.”

His forehead scrunches, but his face remains forward.

“She was found in an alley and heavily drugged. We couldn’t save her.” I lower my voice an octave in hopes my voice won’t break.

His eyes wince as I watch his throat constrict, trying to force a swallow. I keep going, as the weight lifts.

“We only know what she went through from assessing, but I know this baby went through hell before she took her last breath.” I turn to him. “You have no idea how bad I want to go after the people who did this to her.”

“That must have been quite the sight to work on.” He shakes his head.

I debate how in depth I want to taint his mind with the sick things people do to each other in the alleys. “Abuse beyond stomaching.”

We stay silent. His eyes search mine, unsure how to respond. I expect him to reach out or say something most people would want to hear, but he doesn’t. Maybe this guy is the first who is on the same page. I don’t need hugs. I just needed to tell someone about my day and move past it. My stomach swirls as my throat closes, blocking all oxygen from escaping. Nausea waves through me, and I inhaled sharply to resist the contents of my stomach expelling. I fail miserably. My hands instinctively reach for my hair as I double over and paint the grass. This guy hands me a napkin from the pizza leftovers bag without a word. I wipe my mouth, surprised I’m not embarrassed. I thought he would be the one to vomit, to be honest.

“You must see a lot of horror in your field,” he speaks.

“It’s not always that terrible.” I shake my head and regain strength. “I don’t hold on to feelings outside of my job, but patients, especially children, really get to me.”

“Noted.” His smile is soft this time. Understanding. “I’ll walk you home, Lauren.” His hand rests on my back as he leads the way.

And I let him.