Uncaged Love Read Online Free Page A

somebody grabbed my shoulders from behind. That’s the trigger. Always has been.
    I don’t remember what all I did, but I do know I made two of them bleed out the nose. I never went back, not even for my last paycheck.
    My back is screaming. I drop the weight on the floor. The sand doesn’t make much of a sound, just a light thud.
    Buster moves to the doorway, arms crossed on his chest, as I open the next box. Thirty pounds each. I have to bend to pull the first one out, and for a moment, I don’t think I can lift it.
    But the boss is watching, so I do, heaving it up against my belly. Sweat is starting to form across my forehead. No hoodie tomorrow, that’s for sure.
    I pass in front of Buster without looking at him. It’s not so bad walking with the thirty braced on my stomach. I bend at the knees to set it down. I’m getting it.
    When I cross back through, he’s gone. I grab another thirty and head back inside. Colt has moved, and he’s talking to the girl with the hand weights. I feel a zing of jealousy that almost stops me in my tracks. What the hell was that? I just met the man yesterday. I drop the sandbag and whirl around.
    When I get back to the front room, Buster tosses me a T-shirt. “You have to be broiling in that hoodie.”
    I catch the shirt. It’s dark blue with the Buster’s Gym logo on the front. “Thanks.”
    “It’s yours. Just don’t get arrested in it.”
    I stand there for a minute. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to change. “I don’t really know my way around,” I finally say.
    “Right.” He waves me behind the counter, and I’m relieved to have a break from hauling sandbags. We go down the little hallway.
    “Back here’s the office.” He opens the door to basically a closet with a desk in it, covered in papers. “Right here’s a clipboard to mark your hours.”
    We go back in the hall. “This door is a bathroom. The girls use it.” He thumbs toward it. “You can put the shirt on in there.”
    He steps back to let me by. “The men’s locker room is on the other side.”
    I tense up. I hope he isn’t going to ask me to go in there while people are around.
    Maybe he notices, because he says, “I’ve got a cleaning lady who handles it. She comes five nights a week.” He turns around to leave. “We’ll figure you out as we go along.”
    “Thank you.” I turn the handle of the bathroom door. Compared to my other jobs, this one feels like a dream.
    The bathroom’s tiny. Just a sink and a toilet in the open space. In one corner, four plastic cubes are stacked, open ends out. One has a towel and a brush in it. They probably belong to that girl out there.
    I lock the door and strip off the hoodie. Beneath it I have an athletic bra, the only kind I own. It’s wide and gray, and looks like what that girl lifting weights is wearing, but she’s showing hers. I can’t imagine walking around with my belly exposed.
    I turn to the mirror. My hair is a disaster. Tendrils are stuck to my flushed face. I snatch up a paper towel and wet it down. The cool against my neck is a blessed relief.
    I shouldn’t dawdle. I pick up the shirt. I know before I even get it pulled down that it’s miles too tight. A groan escapes my throat as I assess the fit in the mirror. Even with the athletic bra, you can’t help but look at my chest. The barbell across the front lands square on my boobs.
    Maybe I can ask for a bigger size. I fold up my hoodie and place it in one of the cubes.
    Nobody’s in the hall when I come out. The front room is empty. I poke my head in the weight room to see if Buster is there. Only the girl remains. I’m not sure if I’m feeling disappointment or relief that Colt is gone.
    I turn back to the front room, plucking at the shirt. I don’t know where Buster got it. I wonder if I can find them myself.
    There’s another door in the hall. The handle is tight, but I manage to jerk it open.
    Bingo. It’s a storage room.
    I can’t find any sort of light, so I have