Please

Routine

Disclaimer
This chapter contains mention of physical abuse. For those sensitive to such topics, understand that this is not aimed to target anyone, it is a general mention of a fear many women carry with them through their lives.

Jo grunted and clutched her hand. Even through the thick wraps, she could tell the scabs had been disturbed. She slammed the bag one last time with a frustrated kick and stood there panting for a moment.

A hand gently lifted hers and Jo's nerves sent a shock through her. When she realised it was just her coach, she breathed out a sigh and looked away.

"Ok." He said and lead her to the bench.

Jo sat without a word and waited as her coach rifled through their mess of a first aid box. When he walked over to her with a roll of bandages in one hand and a handful of tissues in the other she groaned inwardly.

She held her hand out for him to unwrap it and hissed when he peeled the wrap away to reveal a bloody mess of torn skin.

"Uh huh." He cleared his throat before opening the saline bottle he had also grabbed and pouring a bit onto a tissue.

Jo sighed through her nose as he cleaned the blood away and rewrapped her hand.

"How'd that happen?" He asked, a spark of humour in his voice.

"Some asshole." Jo mumbled before she realised how that sounded.

Her coach looked up at her curiously.

"I mean, lost my temper. Hit a wall." She grimaced at how stupid it sounded.

"Uh huh." He said again, looking back at her hand.

The number of hand injuries the man must have patched up really showed with his bandaging ability. Jo's hand stung but the bandage covered the sores and was professionally secured.

"That's enough for you, I think." He grunted as he stood.

Jo huffed. "Yup."

"Go home, let that heal, I don't want to see you on the bags again till it's healed. First aid stuff's not cheep."

Jo nodded, letting her tired muscles convince her that she was done anyway. She waved half-heartedly and headed out of the gym.

She'd taken up kickboxing several years ago, after hearing about a friend of a friend who's boyfriend had been abusive and put her in the hospital. They caught him in the end, but she didn't speak to anyone for weeks afterward. Jo was terrified at the thought of someone she chose to trust becoming such a monster that she promised herself to never be caught in that situation. Or at the very least she would learn to protect herself.

Still, the violence of the whole sport didn't do much for her temper... she'd gotten plenty of warnings for uncontrolled head shots in the ring. She'd gotten lots of compliments in the last year too, which filled her with a bit of pride. She worked hard at it, this was something she felt good at. But... right now, she just felt pathetic.

Keeping her gaze away from the other bus riders, Jo grimaced at her bandaged hand. Her mind drifted back to her last, slightly-less-elegant bandage job and she let out a frustrated breath.

Ass.

Jo dropped her bag on the floor of her apartment and flopped down on the couch. The remote was too far away, on the coffee table directly in front of her, so Jo opted for scrolling through social media on her phone.

Kate's story popped up and she tapped it. A series of pictures loaded, one after the other, showing Kate, Rhys and Marco taking selfies and doing various things around the house. The words "hanging with the boys" cut across one photo, which had the three of them on the floor, Rhys and Marco's heads upside down with Kate's head between them.

Jo scoffed but switched her phone off when she realised her eyes kept going to Marco's face in every photo.

"Fuck you..." she whispered, tossing the phone beside her on the couch.

She stood and walked into the kitchen to look for some food. A bowl of pasta, some wine and a movie later, Jo was lying in bed with the fan on. It wasn't hot but she liked the breeze, and it let her curl up under a blanket. She liked living alone, because it meant she didn't have to deal with anyone else's night routines or conversation when she wasn't in the mood. Right now she just wanted to be left alone with her thoughts. She drifted off to sleep.

.
K: Come out on Friday

Jo groaned and rubbed her eyes. She was waiting for an email when her phone buzzed on the desk. The office was quiet, most people clicking away at their own desks, others on their lunch break. Jo had always sworn she would never end up in a mindless office job, but these days she was actually grateful for the monotony.

J: Where?

K: G's
K: A whole bunch of us are going

Geronimo's was an old bar on the edge of the city, they'd been there before. It wasn't exactly considered a fancy neighbourhood and getting there by public transport was a little tricky.

Jo chewed her lip for a second. She didn't know if she felt like going out, but she would otherwise be alone at home on Friday.

K: I'll buy you a shot if you come 🥃

Jo scoffed.

J: I'll try

~