Trained (Completed)

Chapter 3: Checked Out

This goddamn curtain. It opens again. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Palmer, your mother is here. Is it okay if she comes in?"

Who notified her? She must be the emergency contact. "Yes, Of course."

Heels click, and in walks a woman who is well groomed. Their eyes meet and she smirks. But as soon as she sees her daughter, they instantly grow concerned. Hugging each other, "What happened Palmer?"

"Ma'am I assure you, Ms. Kline is going to be okay." Fuck.

Ms. Valdore pulls away from her daughter. "I'm going to go get some water. You okay Palm?"

He scrubs a hand over the scruff of his beard. Not much is said between him and Palmer. They seem to only nod their heads when asked a question. Shortly after needing space, the clicks of her heels follow him to a more secluded area. Away from her daughters room.

"What the hell?! I didn't want you to marry her! Just show her a good time and get her mind off things!"

He begins to laugh. "What the hell is so funny?"

"You're a basket case. We're not married. I just said that so I can be in the room with her. But now that you're here, I can go back to my life."

"Clinton wait...my offer still stands."

He sighs, annoyed. "I guess it'll have to stand alone, because I still don't want to take it."

"Here take this incase you change your mind." Jeez does this woman not take no for an answer? He grabs the card, embarrassed and walks out of their lives, without saying bye to Palmer.

<->

Driving to clear his head, the roar of the engine filters his thoughts. It's time to call Mika and get him in the gym. So they can both workout their stresses. "Mika. You free?" There's seems to be commotion in the background. Static, or something. "Mika?"

"Yeah boss I'm here." Stopped at the light, Clinton looks to the side, instantly regretting it. A woman with blonde hair winks. Rolling the window up, rejected. All they want is money he doesn't have.

"Where are you Mika?"

"Mmh well you're not gonna like this." Cliffhanger, he leaves him wanting more.

"What's going on man?" A sudden panic surges through Clinton. Is it the gym? Palmer? Oh god Palmer! "Tell me what the fuck is happening Mika! Right now!"

"Calm down! There are some people here at your gym...investors or something." Investors? The fuck? "It's up for sheriff's sale." Goddamnit! He knew he was behind, but not that behind. What the hell is he going to do now?

"On my way." Without another word he hangs the phone up and blows through traffic. How he didn't get a ticket is beyond him. Driving eighty in a thirty five is a definite no no. Even for a fast car like his there's no excuse. As soon as his car is put in park, his feet touch the black top and don't stop until he's in front of his fitness center.

"What the fuck?", he whispers. Knuckles bleed with white tips, needing to feel release.

A man finishes posting the paper on the front of the gym. Kline marches over. "You can't do that!"

Settled with a stern stare through tinted sunglasses. The man doesn't crack a smile of a brow. "I just did. You are behind on your payments, been that way for a while Kline. Like you I also have a job. Now excuse me."

Dumbfounded as he watches the sheriff stalk his way out. Closer to the piece of paper that may potentially ruin his life. Clinton reads the thick black ink. Open for all eyes to see.