Scared To Love You Again

25

Damian

I can understand Leila's frustration. Imani was wrong. I know I've done some foul shit, but she definitely takes the cake on this. Imani was so quick to get me out the picture, she didn't even realize she set her own little sister up with a narcissistic, schizophrenic junkie. Well done, sis.

I pull up to the dark gym. "Why are we here?" Leila asks.

"I've been meaning to show you this place and I think now is as good time as any. Come on." I get out the car as she follows after. I unlock the metal gate to the building, raising it to have access to the boxing area. I hold the door open. "Ladies first." Leila walks in slowly and I turn on one of the lights that dims over the boxing ring.

"This is where you coach?"

I nod. "And when I need to let some steam off. I just come here and punch the bag a bit."

"By yourself?"

I shrug. "I prefer it that way. It's peaceful."

She remains quiet but keeps her look fixated on me as if she wants to say something. "Damian..." I know what she wants to talk about, but I'm not ready yet and she definitely won't be.

I go to grab for my black gym bag from the chair by the men's locker room. I come back and Leila's hair is tied into a pony tail and she's trying to take her heels off. I pick her up, placing her on the edge of ring while I crouched down to assist her out of her shoes. Standing between her legs, I brush my hands up and down her thighs. My intrusive thoughts kicking in, but I need to stay focused for now.

"Put these on." I demand. She straps one glove on and I help her with the next.

"Aren't you gonna put some on, too?"

"Don't need to. This is for you." I guide her to the punching bag hanging ringside. Switching it out with a lighter one. "I know it's been a minute, but you've punched one of these before. All that pumped up energy you got... put it into the bag."

I take my jacket and shirt off, revealing my white tank top. I loosen my belt and pull it from the loops on my pants. Throwing all of my belongings in the gym bag.

She gets into the fighting form I taught her when we were teens. She still remembers. I'm impressed. "Everything you're feeling, baby. Let it all out." I see her tears beginning to fill her eyes, but she holds back and begins to go in on the hundred pound sack.

Leila throws blow for blow. "Go harder." She continues. "Keep it up." I want her to give the bag her all, but she's holding back. "Don't bullshit, Lei. Give it all you got, baby."

"C'mon. I know you can hit harder than that!" The strength of her punches increases as she begins to huff and puff. "Harder, Lei!" I provoke for her to do the one thing I know she's been aching to do and she finally does when I'm struck in my lip. She knocks me back by just an inch. I licked my bottom lip and realize I just tasted blood. "Thatta girl."

She has uncontrollable breathing. "Damian I..."

"It's okay, baby. You feel a little better?" She looks down as if she's ashamed, so I lift her chin up. "Always stand on how you feel. Don't let anyone or anything take that away from you. Not even me." I help her out the gloves.

Once they're off, Leila wraps her arms around my neck. Pulling me in for a hungry kiss. I feel tears falling between our lips causing me to wipe them without pulling away from her. I wrap her legs around my waist, carrying her to my private stand-in shower upstairs in my office.

Still holding her in my arms, I click the button for the warm water to turn on. As we stand in the middle of the shower, our clothes soaking, I pull my tank-top over my head while Leila drags her dress down from her body. She pauses as she gazes at my scars. Dragging her hand over each one. I wince slightly when she touches the stab wound I have on my side torso. She snatched her hand back.