Chapter 2: Chance Encounter

Brie's POV

The gym was the only place I could silence the noise that seemed to follow me. The nightmares never left, but the gym dulled the sound. Here, I was a champion. I was more than what happened—or rather almost happened to me.

I wiped away the damp hair on my forehead and restarted the music. I needed my floor routine to be as flawless as the rest of my routines. The hardcore sound of the bass blasted through the speakers, filling the room.

I know that lyrics would cost me points in my overall score, but they helped me focus. Without it, I couldn't channel all the rage I had caged inside. Coach loved it and said it was the reason I had a real future as a top gymnast. I didn't disagree, but I couldn't agree either.

According to my therapist, this anger I had was destructive and dangerous to keep inside—not that I cared much about what he said.

The music filtered through me, taking control of my movements. Front walk over, round off, back handspring, back tuck. The first set of moves flowed through my limbs naturally. My brain was already programmed to execute the next steps. Front walkover, round off, handspring, back tuck.

At the gym and during competitions, I wasn’t the problem, I was the solution. I was the old Brie again, full of life and potential. At home, it was like I had become an infection that was slowly tearing my family apart. My mother hovered more, and I had never seen my father so distant and distracted.

This town, what happened to me…none of us were the same.

I was convinced that the only reason my parents demanded I go to my therapy sessions was more for their benefit than mine. My father had always been Mr. Blissfully Ignorant to the troubles of youth, and my mother was no better. She was two words away from encouraging peer pressure to fit in.

Regardless of their flaws, I loved them and before the incident, I was sure they loved me too. Lately, I couldn't be so sure. It would've been easier for them if I just went back to how things used to be. If I pretended like nothing happened that night, much like what the rest of town had done.

The hairs on my neck stood and I stopped moving, allowing the music to continue without my guided movements. Someone else was here.

After the incident, I developed a second sense of being watched. My therapist labeled it as a side effect of PTSD. I was so afraid to be cornered again that my brain formed its defense, or at least that's how he put it.

I straightened my back as a pair of haunted green eyes clashed with my own. The figure stood in the doorway, unmoving. The shadows that coated his figure except for his eyes did nothing to stop my heart from racing or my hands from gradually becoming sweaty. Was he here to finish the job from four years ago?

Think, Brie. Where are your exits? I've been training here for four years and when I first started, I mapped out all the exits for this very scenario. I wouldn't be a victim again. This time I would fight because there wouldn't be anyone around to save me. I had to save myself.

I let my eyes sweep the room, finding the nearest exit and my best route for escape. Why did I leave my bag with my pepper spray so far away? I was smarter than that—it was supposed to be in arms reach at all times. I got too comfortable and let my guard down.

Think faster, Brie, The longer you take the greater his advantage. I wouldn't be able to take him on head-to-head, but I was fast and could use my speed against him. How? Would I be better off escaping the gym or darting to my bag to pepper spray him first?

My eyes flicked back to the intruder as he raised his hands in surrender. Was this a ploy? Did he want to encourage safety before he attacked?

"I didn't mean to startle you, I thought I was the only one here. When I heard the music, I just followed it," he said stepping out of the shadows.

His six foot frame brought no comfort to me. Even with the distance his height was overwhelming. Despite the harshness of his eyes his face was sharp, but surprisingly gentle. His soft brown curls matted from sweat only added to the allure of innocence. 

Could I trust him or was this a ruse to get me to drop my guard? Who just follows the music and risks giving someone a heart attack? A psychopath is the only logical explanation. I mean, who else comes to a gym in the middle of the night?

He could probably say the same about me. What's a girl doing in the gym by herself in the middle of the night anyway? Even so, I wasn’t prepared to let my guard down that easy. Not that it's any of his business, but most times when I come in the middle of the night, I am the only person here.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” he asked.

The silence stretched on, but he made no move to retreat or come closer. He just stood there, hands in his pockets staring at me. I wanted to run, to be afraid, but the more I stared at him the less afraid I felt. His sharp jawline, smooth skin, softened eyes and impeccible physique wasn't helping me battle with reason I should be afraid either. If anything they were attributing to my unwanted atrraction for him.

So much for a sixth sense PTSD. Thanks, Dr. Broner for nothing.

“I’m Lynx and you are?" he continued.

Why couldn't he get the hint and just walk away? Just walk away and prove that he's not a threat. Prove that despite my racing heart, I'm safe.

The music from my routine finally stopped, replaced by the annoying sound of someone's alarm. Was someone else here? Why did it sound so familiar? Did I know this new intruder?

He tilted his head slightly to where my phone sat beside the radio. There wasn't a second intruder, it was just my school alarm. Now I have paranoia to add to the already long list of things that are wrong with me. Dr. Broner will have a field day when he hears this story.

Sh*t, my alarm! I was already late. How was that even possible? How long had I been here? How long have we been here staring at each other? I needed to get out of here.

I guess he finally realized my panic and hesitation to move because he decided to make the first move to flea.

"I'll see you around, and maybe then you'll tell me your name."

He took a step back and then another before disappearing behind the wall he had originally come from. What makes him think there's going to be a next time? Was he going to make it his personal mission to run into me again? Did I even want to see him again? Do I even hear myself right now?

Of course not, right? I mean, he could still be a threat just one who likes to play with his prey. Either way, I had to be prepared.

The momentary paralysis I was in when he was around ended and the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding released. Get ahold of yourself, Brie. The people in this town can't be trusted. You can't be so trusting! It's different here!

Everything changed that day and the town can pretend it didn't happen, but I was there. It happened to me and I'll be damned if they think that I'll just forget it.

What was I just doing? Right, school! Sh*t! I was running late and my parents were going to kill me.

Correction, my father was going to kill me.