Free Spike: (#3.5 The Beat and the Pulse) by Amity Cross

desk, I pushed out of the office and bounded down the stairs into the gym, which was in full swing. There were a couple of personal training sessions going on, a third of the cardio machines were occupied, a group of bodybuilders were spotting each other as they bench pressed, and in the far corner on the bags were Cole and Ryan.
    Being their coach and all, Ash paid a lot of attention to those guys, and he would never leave them alone without something to do. If anyone knew where he might be, it would be that pair.
    “Hey,” I called out as I approached them across the mats.
    Cole was shouldering a bag as Ryan pummeled it with his fists, and they both straightened up at the sound of my voice.
    “What’s up?” Ryan asked, flexing his fingers.
    “Do you know where Ash has gone?”
    “He said he had some personal shit to do,” Cole said. “Why? Didn’t he—”
    “When did he say that?” I interrupted, not interested in his opinion of our relationship.
    “He gave us our orders last night,” Cole drawled. I knew the guy had some issues with authority even though it was plain to see he thought the sun shone out of my evasive boyfriend’s asshole.
    “Last night?” I narrowed my eyes, the hole getting deeper and deeper.
    “Is something wrong?” Ryan asked, his voice full of genuine concern.
    Curling my lip, I shot back, “If you see him, tell him to switch his phone the fuck on and come see me.”
    Spinning on my heel, I stormed back the way I’d come, not knowing what to do. It really bloody hurt knowing that Ash was keeping something from me, and for once in my life, I didn’t know what to do about it.
    All I could do was to go back to work and hope he turned up, so I went through the motions by helping out in the office until the new hire went home. With Violet in Sydney and me at Beat, we’d had to get someone on pretty quick. The business had grown more than Ash had anticipated and was way too much for either of us to handle on our own. Which was a good thing when it came down to it.
    Once the computer was off, I went downstairs and helped Bobby clean up the kitchen, much to his amusement, and then I went upstairs and waited on the couch.
    The minutes ticked by and still no Ash. I checked my phone, but it was clear—no calls or messages graced the screen. The longer I waited, the higher my anxiety levels rose.
    Standing, I decided to go downstairs and belt out a couple of repetitions on the bags. That, if nothing else, would curb my anxiety until the morning when I’d start calling every hospital in the city.
    As I clattered down the stairs into the dark gym, I felt his presence before I saw him. My skin prickled like it was charged with some kind of static electricity. It zinged through my veins, making my heart beat double-time.
    Across the floor, I saw Ash’s bulky form in the half-light, his stance solid and his shoulders hunched. He wore nothing but a pair of shorts, and his hands were wrapped much like the way he used to do them when we fought at The Underground. No gloves or protection, just a piece of material between his knuckles and his target.
    He was attacking a bag with so much force I knew something wasn’t right. The smack of his fists against leather was loud in the silence as each punch landed. A set of three, then four, a single, then three. A sharp exhale of breath pierced the air, matching his punches beat for beat.
    Weaving through the weights, I approached him through the darkness. He was right at the back of the gym like he was trying to hide, attacking the bag that hardly anyone ever used because it was so darn heavy. Only fools like Ash dared go as hard as he currently was on a bag holding that much weight.
    Something was bothering him. Something big.
    “Ash?”
    My voice echoed in the empty gym, and he glanced at me before attacking the bag once more. His torso was glistening with sweat, and his hair was damp, making me wonder how long he’d been here. At least before nine