Unraveling with You (EXCERPT)

Chapter 1.2

The tattooed man stares down Josh, his breathing labored. I hadn't noticed him coming, but now he's less than a foot from Josh. But Josh escalates beyond what I feel is appropriate: shoving the tattooed man back, he scowls. But the tattooed man doesn't budge more than an inch.

Josh's scowl contorts into a snarl. He hits even harder this time, but his own shove pushes his back into the mirror. The tattooed man grips Josh's shirt to keep him restrained. With how tightly they're pressed against the mirror, away from blaring gym lights, the tattooed man's eyes are shrouded in a dark shadow.

But Josh finally shoves the man's hands off. "The fuck is wrong with you?!"

The tattooed man's deep voice echoes across the tall ceilings despite his tone remaining even. "You have no right treating anyone like this. You're hurting your client - in front of everyone."

Josh opens his mouth to speak, but multiple people have stopped working out to stare, leaving the gym in sharp silence. The only sound is my hard panting between rasping, pathetic tears.

Breaking into a sour grin when he meets my eyes, Josh laughs. "Chill out, man. She's fine; she's just crying."

My heart crunches like Josh smushed it in his beefy palm, forcing me to hold my breath to keep a grip on my tears. The tattooed man's eyes flicker to mine in the mirror. His heavy concern rips a fresh sob out of me. I drop my head to my lap, hiding my ugly crying face. I've created such a humiliating mess, but I can't stop my heart from aching like it's been ripped out. I'm not just disappointed in myself; I'm terrified by what this workout failure means. I really wasn't strong enough.

But Josh's voice tenses, zipping my focus back to him. "What makes you think you can tell me how to work with my client? I don't think you own the place."

The tattooed man glares at Josh, leaving a long, extended pause. Josh tenses, but the tattooed man drops Josh's staredown to fetch the discarded dumbbells at my sides. He's not stooping to Josh's level by laughing or taunting back, and the deepening hatred in Josh's furrowed eyebrows tells me that's an insult to his manhood.

I scramble to my feet, ready to pacify both men and leave the gym as quickly as possible, but my side cramps harder than I've ever felt, forcing a sharp cry from my lips.

My overworked legs threaten to send me to the ground, shaking hard despite how horrendously heavy they feel, but the tattooed man steadies me by the arms. He settles me safely on the floor, propping my back against the nearest workout bench. I whimper as the pain only continues, but he keeps a firm hand on my arm. "You're okay, you're okay. Keep breathing through it. What's hurting?"

I grimace, grabbing my side as it pinches like a piece has been torn out of me. But before I can speak, Josh scoffs.

"Go on, play the hero. She's just whiny. It doesn't make anything happening here illegal. I can make her cry as much as I want to."

Whipping a phone out of his pocket, the tattooed man points his camera at Josh. "Want to repeat that?"

Josh's jaw tightens.

The tattooed man shakes his head. "I don't remember the part in Psychology for Sport and Physical Activity that taught us how important it was to make our clients cry as Kinesiologists. Care to jog my memory?"

Josh grabs his water bottle and keys, but not after slamming down a heavy weight with a resounding bang. I shriek, gripping the stranger beside me. The tattooed man's arms tense beneath my grasp, ready to lurch into action. My heart hurts for him too; his wide, clenched stare tells me he's just as terrified of what Josh might do next. But thankfully, Josh storms out, leaving us all in silence.