Page 93 of Kissing the Shore

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KARLY

It’s been four days, and I’m still pretty shaken up over what happened. I screw the lid off of my concealer and heavily apply it to my eye, trying really hard to cover up the bruise. Ashton went to jail. Eric went to jail.

I’ve never seen Eric lose it like that. Never. I don’t blame him, though. He did exactly what I was too afraid to do, and Ashton deserved it.

In my opinion, he deserved worse.

He forced me to sign the paperwork, giving him my songs. My friend Lexie’s husband, Carter, swears that I can get them back when I testify against him in court. Although I’m not so sure I want to testify because part of me, even though it’s a minuscule part, wants to just give them to him. Let him sing those words about how he hurt me over and over. It would probably be more torturous for him than for me. For me, it would be good karma.

I have a class to teach at the gym in about thirty minutes, so I slip some clothes on and a pair of sunglasses and make my way out the door. It’s a frigid day today, though, and it’s trying to snow. Which is weird since it’s barely December, and we don’t get snow here. Never. Like maybe once in the past, what? Eighteen years. Seriously the average snowfall per year is zero. Always.

I pull my car into the lot, it’s still daylight now, but it will be dark when I leave. The sun sets earlier and earlier every day, which is a bummer for a summer lover like me.

When I walk in the main doors, people are chatting and whispering. I make my way into the owner’s office, and George smiles at me. His gray beard is trimmed up nicely, and I laugh at his shirt. It’s black with the word feminist displayed like a badge of honor.

“Hey G, what’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” He starts, and I can tell something is wrong. I’m definitely getting fired. He heard about what happened, and he doesn’t want the drama. Of course not. Who would?

“I’m moving to Minnesota.”

“Minnesota?” I croak.

“Yes, my daughter is pregnant. I want to be closer to them.”

“Oh, well, that makes sense, I guess, but I’ll miss you. I don’t know who I’ll get ridiculous Christmas mugs for.”

He laughs, “Well, there is still mail, and I expect one. I wanted to talk to you about your spot here, though.”

“You know I only do this for fun,” I add. “I know that whoever takes over will want to change the way we do things. I’m aware that money will be the focal point. If they want to get rid of me, that’s fine.”

He shakes his head, laughing under his breath, “No, Karly. I want you to buy the gym.”

“Me?” A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“You.” He confirms.

To say I’m a little shocked would be an understatement. My own gym? My own safe place.

“I…” Stuttering, I continue, “I don’t know what to say.”

He smiles, “Say you’ll think about it?”

“Okay,” I quip. “I’ll think about it.”

The mere thought of having a place for people to come and work toward their fitness and health goals makes me warm and fuzzy inside. A place that I’d create on my own.

I hop to my feet and go lead my class, drowning out all the crap that has happened this week, and when I’m finished, I clean some of the equipment and get ready to leave, turning off the lights.

Opening the door, the cold air is paralyzing, and there’s at least one inch of snow on the ground, and more white flakes of death are falling. I lock up and notice a truck pulling into the lot. As it gets closer, the familiar gray twists my stomach in knots.

The window rolls down, and Eric speaks.

“Let me drive you home.”

I sigh, looking at my snow-covered car. “It’s okay. I can drive.”

“I know you can drive. I don’t want you to.”


Tags: Kirstie Goode Romance