Page 81 of Gym Junkie


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His dark eyes hold mine, and then he licks his lips and disappears to the bar.

I turn back to the girls.

“Fucking hell.” Freya gasps. “Are you for real?”

My eyes widen. I forgot they were even here. “What?”

“You should have just fucked him in the club.” Emily laughs.

I cringe. “Oh, you heard that?” I put my hand over my face and laugh in embarrassment.

“Do you know how many women would kill to fuck him in a club?”

I crinkle my nose. “As long as it’s not his fucking secretary, I don’t care.”

“He hasn’t gone there,” Monika says, and we all look back to the dance floor to see Cindy dancing sexily.

“But she would jump at the chance. Don’t trust that little skank as far as you can throw her,” Freya adds.

I feel big hands snake around my hips from behind, and I see Freya’s face fall. I turn and get a fright. Is not Brock. It’s another man.

“Oh.” I pull out of his grip. “Don’t do that,” I say.

“Hey, baby,” he slurs. “Come back here, I want a little fun.” He grabs me again and pulls me towards him.

“Don’t touch her!” Monika snaps, pushing against him.

“Fuck off.” He growls. God, he’s really drunk.

He leans in and tries to kiss me, but I push him back. “Don’t!” I snap.

“Go away!” Freya yells at him.

He grabs me again and pulls me onto him. Oh, God, he’s hard. I struggle to get out of his arms.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hear Brock growl.

Oh no.

“Whatever I fucking want, cunt,” the man answers roughly, and he pushes Brock back.

Brock glares at him. “Tully, go to the bathroom.”

“B-Brock,” I stammer. “Let’s go.”

“Move!” he yells and pushes me out of the way just in time to miss the man who takes a swing at Brock. What the fuck?

I’m grabbed from behind and pulled out of the way just in time to see Brock land a punch to this man’s jaw.

“Stop it!” I cry.

I fight to break free from Jesten’s grip. The man takes another swing at Brock and Brock punches him back. The next minute, it has turned into a full-on fist fight with men running in from everywhere. Both the man’s friends and Brock’s friends are involved in it. There are twelve men in this fight, and the noise forces the band to stop playing as the bar’s security run in to try and break it up.

A table is tipped over and glasses smash everywhere. I see Brock on top of this man on the ground beating the hell out of him. He’s completely lost control.

I put my hands over my face in horror. “Stop!” I scream. Brock punches him again and again. He’s going to fucking kill him.

“Brock, stop it!” I cry.

But he doesn’t, and a second later another of the man’s friends runs over and kicks Brock as hard as he can in the stomach. Brock falls to the ground, and then Jesten goes crazy, finally letting me go. He dives on the man who just kicked Brock. It starts again.

I put my hands over my eyes.

What the fuck is going on?

When I look up again, I see Brock getting up. The look on his face is murderous, and I have to scrunch up my face as the tears begin to fall.

I can’t watch this. I can’t watch him be like this.

He’s a fucking animal.

So I turn, and I run.

Chapter 16

I run down the stairs as quickly as I can, my heart racing in my chest. The brighter lights have all been turned on as the bouncers run up the stairs towards the fight.

I get a vision of how violent Brock was being, and I find myself wincing again. What the hell was that about? One minute he is whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and the next moment he turned into a total psychopath.

I can’t deal with this shit… or him. I need to get out of here. I take the stairs two at a time until I get to the ground floor. I burst out through the front doors. A cab is just dropping someone off, and without asking, I dive right into the back seat.

“Can you take me to Darlinghurst, please?”

“Of course.” The cab driver casually pulls out into the traffic. I turn in my seat to look at the Angel Hotel as it disappears into the distance before I turn back to face the road in front of us. My heart is beating so hard and fast in my chest. I see the look on Brock’s face, and I wipe my tears away as swiftly as I can. He was like a different person.

The cab makes its way through the traffic. and with every kilometre that we get farther away, I feel a little bit sicker about what I’ve just witnessed. Brock just kept hitting him, again and again. I mean, the idiot deserved the first punch, but why did he have to keep going with it?

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