Page 20 of Quake
The last punch landed too far to the left, and I was knocked off balance, my back jarring as I stumbled. It was instant. One second I was fine, the next I felt pain sear through my lower back muscles and into my nerve endings at the base of my spine.
I dropped the bag and turned, my breath catching. “Fuck.”
Leaning against the wall, I grimaced, the spasm in my back feeling as if I’d been twisted right around ten times.
“Shit,” Gaz cursed. “Are you okay, mate?”
I waved him off, trying to keep my temper in check. I was so pissed at myself I wanted to smash something, but what would that solve? My back had been feeling good for months now, but I knew better than anyone that it only took one tiny movement the wrong way to fuck it all up.
I’d been taking on too much, I knew I was, but I didn’t want to slow down. The doctors had told me specifically to keep training limited. I was watching out for these cretins six days a week, and then I’d taken on Juliette and her self-defense for another three nights. What I was doing with her was basic, but it was physical…Dammit. Giving up time with her was not something I wanted to do.
I felt good, but it was all a mind game. It was just a case of too much too soon.
“Keep going,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I just need a sec.”
“Can I—”
“No,” I snapped, my temper flaring.
“Just leave him,” Gaz said, taking the heat off me. “Your turn for reps, Frankie.”
Thankful Gaz got the fact my pride had just taken a major dent, I pushed off the wall and eased my way across the studio and upstairs to the office. Rummaging around in my bag, I pulled out some pills and downed one, cursing the fucker who’d put me here in the first place.
Fuck him to hell.
* * *
Ididn’t havethe heart to call and cancel on Juliette, so when she came in at six, it was business as usual.
I’d downed my pills, and I was numbed just enough to get on with it. I didn’t want to miss any time with her. On an otherwise shit day, I hoped she was the bright spark that would pick me up.
“Hey,” she said, wandering into the studio.
She was smiling tonight, her cheeks pink and her hair pulled back into a long plait that sat perfectly in line with her spine. She looked good, and my shit day began to fade into the background.
“Hey,” I said, padding across the mats to meet her. “How’re things?”
She rolled her eyes and tossed her bag onto the bench.
“That good, huh?” I asked with a smirk. Must be going around.
“There’s an expo coming up next month, and my boss has me running all these crazy errands all over the city,” she said.
“What do you do exactly?” I asked, waiting for her to take her shoes off.
“I’m an assistant to the Head of Marketing for Slattery Press,” she said, glancing up at me. “Publishing. Genre fiction mostly.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked with a frown.
She laughed softly and shook her head. “I gather you don’t read many books.”
I shrugged. “Nope. Not really my thing. I’m more of a visual guy.” I winked, and she immediately flushed red, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. Fuck, I loved it when she was all flustered.
“Well,” she went on, her voice shaking slightly. “Genre fiction is things like romance, crime, thriller, fantasy.”
“Ah, I see. So you get to fetch coffee? Is that what assistants do these days? I’ve never worked in an office so I wouldn’t know.”
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes again. “Lots of coffee, but I have to start somewhere.”
