The Bad Girl

Chapter 14

Saturday morning was hectic. Mom was in a grumpy mood along with my jumpiness from last night's encounter. I kept getting this feeling that I was being watched.

Blake couldn't put up with moms and my mood, so he went and hung out with Brett and the guys.

Feeling the need to release the stress that I was feeling, I went to the gym. I went to my room and changed into a white t-shirt, sweatpants, and my NIKE's. I put my black sports bra and black shorts into my gym bag. I told mom where I was going and left.

All throughout my drive, my head kept spinning of thoughts of Brett, and then everything that happened last night.

The only thing that hurt on me were the bruises from being thrown and my soreness. I thanked God that my bike only had a few scratches, which was surprising. Over all I was thankful that it didn't end up worse.

When I had arrived at the gym, I saw that there weren't many people here. The guy at the front desk took one look at me and shook his head.

"Sorry, but the playground is down the street," he said with a smirk on his face.

"I know, but I came here," I said and put a fake smirk on my face. He cringed at the harsh bitterness in my words, but plastered a grin on his face.

"Well you're too small, and frankly, if you look around, no one here is small."

I ignored the longing to slap the grin off of his face, but instead, looked around the gym. Sure enough, I didn't see anyone in here that came close to my size. Everyone that was in here, were built to the max. Yes, I had muscles, but they didn't compare to the men.

Getting annoyed, I grabbed the guy by his shirt and hauled him towards me.

"Look here, sexist asshole, give me the damn paper before I rip you a new asshole, okay?" I asked, and when he nodded vigorously, I let him go.

I looked around, seeing that we had gained the attention of every soul in the room. Turning back to the guy at the counter, I took the paper that he was holding out to me. I grabbed it, signed it, and slapped it on the counter before taking my membership card from him.

I walked to the locker room and changed. Walking out, I put my headphones in my ears, but didn't turn on my music until I reached the punching bags. I turned on "Sucker for Pain" from the movie suicide squad.

"I'm just a sucker for pain.
I wanna wrap you up,
I wanna tie you down.
Yeah, I'm just a sucker for pain."

As I punched, it got harder as the bass dropped. I smiled, feeling peace that I haven't felt in a long time. It felt good.

I could've stayed there forever, but suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder, which probably felt wet considering that I was very sweaty.

I took my headphones out if my ears, and turned to see who interrupted my peace.

"I knew we'd find you here," said a voice that was very familiar. It was Blake. Looking past him, I saw the guys looking at me with amazement.

"What do you need?" I asked, quite annoyed.

"Your mom wants you home for dinner, and sent us to find you. She invited some people she knows, and invited us all," he said gesturing to himself and the guys.

"Well, that's a first," I muttered. I sighed when I got a few curious looks.

"Well, give me a minute to go change, and I'll be right back," I quickly went into the changing rooms and changed out of my sweaty shorts and sports bra, back into my sweats and shirt.

When I met the guys outside, Blake grabbed my arm and dragged me out the doors and towards his truck. I heard a low growl behind me, and I turned to look. My eyes landed on Brett, who was glaring daggers into the back of Blake's head. With one look from me, he quit growing but not glaring.

I started to protest against Blake's strong grip,but he cut me off.

"We are already late, and you need to shower, cause you stink," he said pinching his nose.

I heard stickers from behind me from the guys; I whipped my head around to glare at them, which they all shut up to.
Brett had a smirk plastered across his face.

Annoyed, I punched Blake's arm, but he did not budge. I tried pushing him off, but he just kept going. Finally, I faked giving up and when he turned around, he gave me one hard look that told me that he knew that I was faking and that he was in no mood for my shit.

I shut up and let him drag me to the truck. On the way home it was hard to be mad at him because he turned on all my favorite songs on and sang loudly too.

When we pulled up to the house, we were clutching our stomachs from laughing so hard.