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Suddenly, he takes a turn. In the wrong direction.
“What are you doing?” I say.
“What do you mean?” He’s smiling. It’s a suspicious smile. Though it seems that way mostly because I’ve had enough of surprises today, that even ones coming from handsome men that I want to spend hours kissing are enough to put me on edge.
“The pharmacy, which is where I left my car, is that way. We’re going the wrong way.”
“We’re not going to your car yet. I have something else in mind,” he says. The smile’s still there, and a look that makes my heart race and my cheeks hot is burning in his eyes.
“Then where are we going?”
It’s time for me to teach you a lesson."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hunter
It’s an hour before closing when we pull into the parking lot of a corrugated steel building on the outskirts of Ironwood Falls. The parking lot is made of gravel, the building’s a rusted hunk of junk, and the people inside are about as weatherworn. And I wish I had found this place sooner.
Emily gives me another of her patented confused looks. “‘Off the Hook’? What kind of name is this? Where are we?”
“It’s a boxing gym.”
“I’m not in the mood for a workout. Not dressed for one, either.”
“Humor me, Emily,” I say.
“Why?” She says.
“Because after you called me and told me you wanted me to get you at the police station in a few hours, I went looking around, in this rush, with this need to find something like this place. Now that I’ve found it, I want to show you something important,” I say. It doesn’t land as well as I want it to — she blinks, tiredly, and stifles a yawn. Not that I blame her, but this is important to me, especially after finding out the full why about why she was in jail. “They sell alcohol, too.”
She perks up; her fatigue melting away. “What? A gym that sells booze?”
“They keep a fridge in the back office. Sales are cash only.”
“It doesn’t seem like the smartest idea, or legal, but…”
“It probably isn’t legal, but you look like you could use a drink and hit something. This takes care of two birds with one stone.”
Emily hesitates for a moment, then shrugs. "Alright, I'm in. Lead the way."
We walk through the creaky metal door and the smell of sweat and leather hits us immediately. The interior is dimly lit, with a single ring in the center surrounded by various punching bags and weight equipment. A few grizzled men are still working out, their grunts echoing off the walls.
I guide Emily to the back office, where a burly man with a gray mustache sits behind a desk. He nods at me, recognizing me from earlier. "What'll it be?"
"Two beers," I say, pulling out some cash.
As he retrieves the bottles from a small fridge, Emily leans in close. "Hunter, are you sure about this place?"
I hand her a beer. "Trust me."
We make our way to an unoccupied punching bag in the corner. Emily takes a long swig of her beer, then looks at me expectantly.
"Okay," I say, setting my bottle down. "Show me how you'd throw a punch."
She furrows her brow but complies, throwing a weak jab at barely moves the bag. “How was that?”
“Let me show you a few things.”
