Scarred (Scorching Soldier's #1)

Part 8

"The lights dimmed, and the singing stopped."
- Louise Erdrich

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CHAPTER 8
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GAGE

My fist meets the padded bag with extreme force, causing it to swing back and shiver in an excited dance. After the short jab, I bring my fists back up to guard my face. Don't take my eyes off the target. Stay concentrated.

You would've thought that a solid two hours of sparring with an inanimate object would drive a person crazy, but I've never felt so stable. Calm. Violence can sometimes bring the serenity out in people, I've noticed. Nothing beats that assured high after a good old spar.

Next on my agenda is to jump rope, then sprint the mile it takes to get back to my house. It's good cardio, gets my blood pumping and keeps my mind diverted. This morning the community nurse and visited me, and I'd had to detail that the med increase did sh*t for my nightmares. I'd barely gotten any sleep. Somehow, paradoxically, I had so much energy and aggression that I needed to get out to the gym to work it all off.

Figured I might make action on my therapist's words and finally talk to the manager of the gym to see if I could apply to the classes. His name's Kyle. It had gone well, him being ecstatic someone finally wanted to take over them, and he'd given me the papers I needed to fill out and a description of the courses I would need to complete. Told me I could start midway through the course, and might even be lucky to host one by the end of a two-month period. It's a goal, something to keep me motivated.

I finish my round, and take several big gulps of my bottled water, washing down the hot taste of hard work. I pack my things and throw the hood up to cover my head from my jumper. The gym is busy, but I don't meet anyone's eyes. They know me, I'm here so often. They're used to the way I look, but just because your face has become mundane doesn't mean that they don't have their preconceived notions. I was the recluse. I am the reclusive member of society. My actions don't really act in a way to oppose that, so I fight not to be annoyed with the reality.

On my way out, a voice calls out to me to gain my attention. "Gage!"

I turn to see the little ray of sunshine - the first of today in the midst of storms and rain. An automatic smile touches my lips, which I don't notice is there until after a few seconds. "Fancy seeing you here, sweetness."

Before I know it, I have soft arms wrapping around my waist for a quick tight hug, then another elated squeal erupts from her. "I've just heard the news! You're taking the job."

"News gets around quickly, I see. Yeah, I went to see Kyle this morning. Now all I need to do is fill out some paperwork and I can start the course as soon as possible."

She glances at my gym bag and empty water bottle. "You're leaving already?"

"I've been here a couple of hours already. You here to use the gym?" I ask, examining the clothes that grace her body. Not gym clothes, but tight jeans that caused blood to stop pumping so fast to my heart and direct southwards grip her legs, and a skintight black tee-shirt that, with a little imagination, could be an image to use in my own private time.

"No, I'm here to meet my brother. We're going for coffee and he's paying. Couldn't turn down that offer."

"Is he here? Haven't seen him in the gym?"

"Probably not in the public gym. There's an underground ring that ex-soldiers have special access to. Since the town has so many ex- soldier's, it's well used. Surprised you haven't already heard about it."

Who do I talk to that would tell me about it? I keep to myself here, which also means that secrets tend to be kept secrets.

As I'm about to answer with a whimsical sentiment, my phone buzzes. I rummage around in my bag and find it before it stops ringing, answering it with an apologetic smile to the girl that doesn't get bored and walk away with a flippant goodbye, like I would expect, but stays patiently biting her lip, waiting to speak to me after the interruption ceases.

"Gage speaking,"

"Hello Gage, this is Amanda speaking. I'm phoning from Lockridge Hospital, I'm a staff nurse on the cardiac ward. Am I correct in assuming I'm speaking to the son of Phineas Mayard? Your number is listed down in the records."

I turn, a concerned and confused feeling settling in my stomach. "Yes."

"It's a pretty urgent matter that I need to discuss with you," my heart sinks and my switch in mood must show on my face as Zoey's eyebrows dip anxiously. "You're father was rushed to the hospital early this morning and has been admitted to a bed on Ward 3. He's undergone surgery, but we needed to notify family members."

"Why is he in the hospital?"

"I can't disclose that information over the phone to you. However, a nurse will be able to fill you in on his medical assessment as soon as you get here-"

"I'm on my way, thank you for calling," I say in a rushed murmur and hang up. I screw my eyes shut. "F*ck." Not again. Not another person to mourn.

"What's wrong?" The musical lilt of her voice breaks my panic.

"It's my dad." I swallow and groan a string of curses.

She frowns, compassion etching from her actions as she reaches out to stroke my arm. It's nice to be consoled while I'm suffering from an attack. "Come on," she says and starts towards the exit.

I watch and call after her, "what do you mean?"

She walks backwards to give me a hurried look. "You're going to run 20 miles to the hospital? I'll give you a lift."

Even in this panic, I stand and stare at her in awe. But quickly the pending task at hand shakes me from my stupid reverie and I follow her to her car - not caring about how I have to squeeze into the tight space, but thankful that this time I have someone with the motivation to care.