Page 25 of A Better Place

“Tate Owens.”

“Tate. If you have the time, Jack and I would be honored for you to train us.”

“My pleasure.” He flashes a small smile and nods his head.

Three years ago, we were introduced. Three years he’s trained us. He’s stood by Jack while he fell apart after a particularly brutal workout. He’s held me while I cried when the memories assaulted me. He never probed. Never asked questions. He let us use him as a trainer, a counselor, a support system, and most of all a friend. We’ve watched him get married, visited his wife in the hospital when she gave birth to twin baby boys. He’s become a brother, and I couldn’t be more grateful because this man… he taught me what it means to fight. Fight for my life and choose a new path. A path where I wasn’t walking around scared.

But still, some days the memories don’t seem to want to stay hidden. The memories of his hands on me are nothing compared to the memory of his parting words the day I walked away with signed divorce papers. The fear of him finding us, of him finding Jack and coming for us, is what drives me to be better every day.

I wipe the sweat from my brow and thank Tate for another good session. He didn’t have to come in today, but he told me he noticed that I needed extra time recently.

“I’ll be right back, alright, Jack!?” I yell across the mostly empty gym.

Jack nods in my direction as he continues his work on the speed bag in front of him, his favorite.

I duck into the ladies’ locker room and use the restroom. I usually just shower at home but now take the time to towel my body off and apply a layer of deodorant, because… well, I need it. My face is still red from my workout, and my hair has definitely seen better days. I take my it out of my ponytail, finger-comb through it, and pull it back up. Jack and I will head straight home from here, so it’s not like I really have to worry about who I’m impressing anyway.

As soon as I step out of the locker room, I have a strong desire to turn around and walk right back in.

Captain James Cole stands right next to Jack, both laughing at something.

This isn’t happening.

This can’t be happening.

Jack notices me first, his eyes finding mine, and his mouth quirks up in a side grin. And, of course, James spots me immediately. No chance of sneaking out of here and hoping Jack would find me waiting for him in the car. He turns his head and… welp, he’s even better looking than I remember. And I have a very vivid memory of James. Dammit.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here!” he says happily as I make my way over to them.

“Uh, yeah.” I dare not look over at him.

“Mom just finished kicking Tate’s butt over there,” Jack says, eyes twinkling as he takes in how weird I’m being.

“Is that right?” Humor dances in James’s eyes until he sees Tate standing close.

“Well, I don’t think…”

“Oh, she kicked my ass alright. She definitely wasn’t feeling the tryptophan from Thanksgiving turkey,” Tate says, putting his hand on my shoulder. He looks down at me and squeezes my shoulder once; his eyes narrow in my direction, obviously sensing my unease.

But it’s not James who makes me feel uneasy. It’s how much he makes me feel. When I’m around him, I immediately feel the need to want more, and that makes me nervous. I shouldn’t want more from any man.

I look over at James, and he’s staring at Tate’s hand on my shoulder. His eyes shift between my face, Tate, and back again. I glance at Tate who’s staring James down; the protective nature to his stance is looking more like boyfriend than trainer/friend.

“James, how are you?” I ask, hoping to ease the tension.

He blinks once and then faces me. “Good. I’m good. You?”

“I’m good.”

“Good.”

“Well, we’re all good here. That’s a good thing, right, Tate? You good?” my smartass son says.

Tate barks out a laugh. “I’m good, kid.”

“Good,” Jack says, smiling like a loon.

I clear my throat and bite the corner of my lip, rolling my eyes. So glad that bad habit is back. “So, what brings you here?” I ask stupidly. Why else would he be here in workout gear but to work out?

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