Chapter Sixteen

Jordan/Beast

I left the bar without wasting time looking around. He had already fled. I couldn't explain it, but I could feel his presence. It was like we were magnets. It was completely crazy, even for me.

I was in manic mode, as my coach liked to call it, and that wasn't good. I needed to discharge this pent—up energy. Many people sought out sex to blow off steam, and that would be very easy here, but ever since I laid eyes on Ricardo, no one else was enough for me. I could only relieve the tension through sheer force. I needed to punch something until exhaustion to get any relief.

Luckily, my savior and coach had left a copy of the gym key with me. That way, I could go anytime I needed to.

I grabbed my helmet from the coat check and headed to my motorcycle parked at the entrance.

I had a love—hate relationship with this bike. I didn't want to accept it from the man who theoretically was my father. I was very reluctant to accept this bribe after everything we went through because of him, but both my mother and my coach convinced me. It was the least he owed me.

But I couldn't deny that I loved the damn thing. Besides being very useful, it was beautiful. And I wouldn't be able to buy one of these before I turned thirty.

I mounted it and enjoyed the cold wind that hit my body, contrasting with the scorching heat I had felt a short while ago.

The ride wasn't as comforting as I imagined. No matter how hard I tried to control myself, all I wanted to do was turn around and go to Ricardo's house and throw myself on that body again.

In less than ten minutes, I was already stopping at the door of the gym.

It was a small, old warehouse without any unnecessary luxury. There wasn't even hot water in the showers. But I considered it the place where I felt most at home.

Unfortunately, the place where I lived had been paid for by that man, and that made it suffocating. I only continued to live there because of my mother. I know I could stay at the gym in the little room I used to sleep sometimes, but my mother would have nowhere else to go if she left. So if she could endure it, I could too.

I opened the side door and turned on the lights. I looked around to make sure everything was in place. Whenever I came in here, I felt relief.

It was here that I learned to control my anger and focus on my goals.

The place was impeccably clean. We didn't have cleaning staff; the students themselves did it. My coach always said this was a way to instill discipline, but I thought it was just a way for him to save on expenses.

I went to the stereo system in the left corner of the wall and put on Five Finger Death Punch to play. The song —Wash It All Away— filled the room.

I took off my sneakers and my shirt, wrapped my hands in bandages, and headed for the punching bag.

I usually wore shorts to facilitate my movements, but I was too overwhelmed to waste time changing.

As I punched the bag with all my strength, which was secured at the ends to make it more stable, I tried to clear my mind. But all I could think about was Ricardo's body against mine and everything I still wanted to do with him.

Drops of sweat rolled down my body, soaking my pants as the lyrics of the song invaded my ears.

I gave up

On the media

Feeding my hysteria

Tired of living on my knees

I gave up

On morality

Feeding my brutality

Fuck what you think about me

I don't know how long I stayed there. Songs started and ended in a cycle until I was exhausted and composed.

With a clearer mind, I went to the locker room to take a shower. If I hadn't been so sweaty, I would have avoided it. I didn't want to wash his scent off me. But sleeping like that was impractical. Unfortunately, my sweat washed almost everything away.

After the shower, I grabbed my towel from the locker and walked naked upstairs to the small room. This space was given to me by the coach for when I needed to clear my head or simply get away from everything.

No one was allowed upstairs except us two.

I grabbed a pair of boxer briefs from the cabinet and collapsed onto the bed.

The first rays of sun filtered through the curtain. Now with my head in place, I would devise a new strategy. And Ricardo wouldn't be able to escape from it.

I could hardly wait for the weekend to pass.