And miles from where you are,

I lay down on the cold ground and I pray that something picks me up

and lays me down in your warm arms.

****

Desi

I could see my reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator.  A black tank top was tight on my slim body and meshed in with the black shorts that clung to me, showing off my long legs.  My blonde mess of hair was tied tightly on the top of my head, cascading down to my shoulders. 

My stomach suddenly felt sick as I took in my face.  Bags hung under my eyes and my blue eyes reeked of sadness, but somehow held so much hostility that I hardly recognized myself. 

I looked deadly yet broken, dangerous yet fragile, scared but beyond courageous.  Vulnerable and despaired from losing Cody.  Angry and spiteful because I'd lost Cody.  Bitter tears began to sting the raw crevices of my eyelids and I blinked them away hastily.

My eyes glanced to the reflection of the guard that was escorting me.  Sunglasses covered his eyes, hiding his emotion, but he held himself with such a different stature.  His arms were bowed out to his sides and his chin tilted towards the ceiling, having to look down his nose to lock eyes with someone.  He breathed confidence and arrogance. 

The elevator dinged open, and I threw my shoulders back, following the guard out of the sliding doors and into the main lobby.

I slowly kept pace behind the shaved head of the guard as he twined through aisles of empty slot machines and blackjack tables.  Turning right for about the twelfth time we stepped into a hallway with a black door waiting for us at the end.  Mr. Confidence turned the knob and ushered me inside. 

"I will be back in a while to escort you back to your room," He said before turning to leave, closing the door shut with a click.

Standing alone without knowing what to do, my eyes flitted across the large room.  The wall on the left was covered by mirrors with an assortment of dumbbells and massive punching bags.  My gaze trailed to the right, taking in the square padded floor that reminded me of the floor of the cage in the theater.  A chill swept through my bones as I remembered Ryder plunging the corkscrew into the infected boy's eye. 

As if in reaction to my thought a grunt and loud clang erupted from the other side of the room, making me gasp in surprise before turning my head to look at where the noise had come from.

A sweating Ryder sat up from the padded seat of the bench press.  He was shirtless, the beads of sweat rising and falling down the slopes of his sculpted torso.  Ryder's eyes connected with mine and a smile twitched at the corner of his lips.

Blood rushed to my cheeks, creating an embarrassing blush and I quickly looked away as he stood up from the bench and began to walk towards me.

"Hello Desiree,"  Ryder spoke, closer to me.  His voice was deep and powerful, seeping into my skin and forcing me to look at him.  I turned my head towards him hoping the color had left my cheeks and saw the corners of his lips still turned upwards.

"It's Desi," I corrected him, erasing all hints of a smile from his face. 

"But Desiree sounds so much prettier," Ryder argued.  "Desiree."  He tried to make his voice sexy, and he had succeeded, guiltily making me like the way he said it.  "See?  It has a nice ring to it."

"I guess it does," I lied, not wanting to make him right.  I struggled to keep my eyes away from his chest and chose to gaze into his eyes instead.

Ryder's eyebrows furrowed as he really took me in, seeing the different displayed emotion inhabiting my face.  I clenched my jaw and I watched as his eyes trailed to the throbbing muscle below my ear.  His gaze trailed back to lock with mine and he suddenly looked different.

"You're angry," Ryder said, not making it a question.  I could see the anger in him too, he was livid with it.

"That makes two of us," I said.  His brows rose at the shock of me being able to read him.

"Would you like to take some of that anger out?  Unleash it?"  Ryder asked quietly, as if knowing I felt like a prisoner in my body full of hatred.

"Yes," I said back almost mesmerized by the thought of it.

"You need to warm up first," Ryder said sounding like a coach, pulling me out of the intense moment.  "There's no room in here to run laps so I want you to jog in place while I finish my workout."

"Finish your workout?"  I asked confused.

"You're here early."  Ryder motioned towards the clock above the door.  He looked back at me and looked down at my legs which weren't moving.  "Get going," He said over his shoulder as he walked across the room towards the dumbbells.

I watched him go, and didn't start jogging in place until he picked up two heavy weights and began lifting them up and down.  I watched in the mirror as the muscles in his arms bulged with every motion and sweat began to drip down his face again.

A burn rippled across my legs as my shoes connected with the floor.  The familiar pain brought me back to the woods and to Cody.  I imagined him running through the woods right now, on his way to save me from my own personal hell, feeling the burn right along with me.  But I knew it was impossible.

My feet started to hit the floor faster and my legs arched higher in front of me, wanting to take off into a sprint.  Which each stride I let the fire spread up through my waist and to my torso.  A bead of sweat began to trickle down my face and merged with the trail of a tear that had fallen.

"You're not tired yet?"  Ryder's voice broke me out of my trance, and I reached up with my hand, wiping away the tear.

"Nope," I said, slowing my feet to simulate a jog.

Ryder walked away from the mirrors and towards the small fridge that stood against the wall.  Pulling out a water bottle, he unscrewed the top while I continued to jog in place.

As the cold water trickled down his throat I caught him look over at me two different times.  He brought the bottle away from his lips and said, "Okay you can stop," Ryder said, reaching into the fridge again.  He pulled out another water bottle and threw it to me as my legs became still beneath me.

The bottle soared through the air and I fumbled as I caught it, making a chuckle come from Ryder.  He laid his bottle down on the floor and began to walk towards the punching bags, motioning me to follow him with his arm. 

I slowly trudged after him, breathing heavily.  Ryder reached over to a rack filled with boxing gloves and handed me a pair. Holding one glove in between my legs, I pulled on the first one and was having trouble with the second one when Ryder grabbed it out, skimming his fingers across my leg.

I locked eyes with him at the sudden brush of his skin against the inside of my leg.  The spot where we touched began to tingle and I nervously looked away from him and into the hole of the glove that he was pointing in my direction.  I slipped my hand into the red glove with more force than I had meant and nicked his ribs as my glove flew out of his grasp.

"Sorry," I mumbled before turning to the punching bag behind me. 

I clenched my fists hard inside the puffy gloves, mad that I liked the way it felt when Ryder's skin met mine.  I didn't want to like it, but I did.  The last person who had made me feel like that was Cody, and it was only days ago but it felt like an eternity. 

Ryder's touch had reminded me of how much I truly missed Cody, and I was beyond ready to let my fury out onto the bag in front of me.

Ryder appeared on the other said of the punching bag, his body still glistening with sweat and he stepped to it, pressing his body against it and holding it still with his arms.  His face was visible on the other side of the bag and I watched his lips as he spoke.

 "I want you to punch this thing as hard as you can," He said bracing his legs.  My eyes flicked from him to the bag, and back to him.  "I'm holding it so that it doesn't come back and hit you,"  Ryder said with a smile back on his face.

I looked back at the mass of cushion in front of me and held my gloves up, bringing one back behind my head.  Slamming my fist down hard into the bag, Ryder shook lightly behind it, barely even phased by my attempt.

"Vent your anger into it," Ryder coached me.  "I can see it in you.  I know you've got it."

I brought my arm back again and drove my fist, as hard as I thought was possible, into the bag quavering Ryder a little bit more.

"Why are you mad?"  Ryder asked, trying to pry the emotion out of me and into my fists.

"Many reasons," I answered him, gazing into his deep blue eyes. 

"What's at the top of the list?" 

My gaze flicked back to the punching bag in front of me and I brought another punch down, making Ryder let go of the bag and stumble backwards.

"Vivian," I said darkly, Ryder's gaze matching my menacing one.  "I'm going to kill her."