Free Knockout by Tracey Ward Page B

exhaust and the feel of his large, warm hand on top of mine when he pinned it firmly against his body. I could feel him take a deep, steadying breath, his stomach rising and falling under our joined hands. Then he let me go, revved the engine once and we were off.
    We drove slowly around town for at least an hour, neither of us saying anything. I could feel how tense he was beneath my hands. I was hugging stone. He needed to come down. To relax and breathe for a minute. And to get to that calm, I knew he needed to hit something.
    “Kellen,” I said in his ear when we’d reached a stop sign, “take me to your gym.”
    He didn’t answer, he only nodded. Then he violently spun the bike around in the empty intersection and we raced toward his old neighborhood. We blurred past boutiques and restaurants, past the fancy hotels and the overpriced ocean view apartments. We rode deeper into the city toward the tall buildings with alleys in between. The passing cars changed from Range Rovers and Lexus’ to old Hondas and faded Chevy models that were decades past discontinued. I’d been down here in this neighborhood several times with dad over the years to watch Kellen box. We’d been to gyms all over town, following the venues as they hopped from place to place. Some were nice, some were alright and some were super sketch. Kellen’s gym was one of the latter. I’d only been there in the daylight before and tonight in the dark pulling up outside that decrepit, tagged brick building, I was a little nervous. Especially because I was barefoot.
    Kellen killed the engine and waited for me to get off the bike so he could as well, but I hesitated.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked, turning to look at me. He saw my worried expression. “You’re scared, aren’t you? I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’ll take you home.”
    “No, I’m not scared. Not of the neighborhood, but maybe of tetanus.” I lifted my leg up so he could see my barefoot pale and white in the moonlight. “I rushed out of the house to catch up to you and I didn’t put on shoes.”
    I felt him chuckle briefly. It was nice. Better than the anger.
    “Hang on,” he told me as he dropped the kickstand and swung himself off the bike.
    He unclipped his helmet, reached out and unclipped mine, then handed them both to me. The second I had them in my hands he swept me off the bike up into his arms.
    “Whoa!”
    “I’ve got you,” his voice rumbled deep against my side.
    He carried me into the dark building like a prince going the wrong way. This was the dragon’s den, my palace sitting miles away on a cliff overlooking the sea. This fairytale was running in reverse but I liked it better. It was more exciting than Cinderella.
    When we got inside the place looked closed. The lights were low for the evening and there was an old guy sitting at a desk in the corner with a small lamp turned on over its surface. He was reading a magazine but whether it was Better Homes and Gardens or Hustler , I couldn’t tell from here. He looked up and nodded to Kellen when we entered. Neither of them said a word to each other.
    Kellen carried me to the opposite side of the gym where he set me down in a chair.
    “Keep your feet up,” he said before disappearing into a backroom.
    When he came back out he had red tape in his hands, the kind he used to wrap his hands inside his gloves. He knelt in front of me as he pulled the end of the tape free, then he lifted my foot and started wrapping it.
    “What are you doing?” I asked, watching as his swift, efficient hands made quick work of my embarrassingly large foot. I understood the physics of it, that I needed that canoe to be this tall and not fall over, but I was still self-conscious about it. Find cute shoes in a size 11, I dare you. Find a size 11 in women’s at all!
    “I don’t want you walking around here barefoot. It gets cleaned but not well and guys spit, sweat and bleed all over this place. Is this too tight? Does it