Chapter Ten

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"How do you differentiate a genuinely concerned partner from a possesive one if both of them check on their significant other several times a day?"

Michael stared at Kelsey as she threw feeble punches at the punching bag he was holding steady for her in the gym. It was the first time she'd spoken since they'd been in Lydia's lab, watching footage from the street cams of Daniel following her to the station.

When the video ended, she'd left the lab without another word and headed straight to the gym, not even bothering to change into her workout clothes. Instead of waiting for Michael to tell her what they were going to do for the training session, she'd headed straight for the punching bags.

He'd watched her from a distance for a while, caught between feeling bad for her and wanting to laugh at her comical actions. Every time she punched the bag, she'd duck when it came swinging back towards her, and then lunge after it to throw another punch as it swung away.

When the bag nearly knocked her down on a return swing, he rushed over to steady it. She'd gone on with her punching in silence until her cryptic question.

"You need gloves or you'll hurt your hands," he said, ignoring her question.

She didn't stop, interspacing her response with punches instead. "What I need--" Punch, punch. "--is an answer--" Punch. "--to my question." Punch, punch, punch.

Michael pushed the bag to the side, holding it in place with one hand as Kelsey lunged forward with her fists. He caught her hands easily as they landed on his chest, flinching a little at the impact. Her pulse thrummed wildly against his fingers as she finally looked up at him, struggling to catch her breath.

He loosened his grip and examined her hands. She'd only got in a few punches but they were already blistering, and some of the dark brown skin of her knuckles was torn open and bleeding. He led her away, still holding her hands, and left the punching bag to swing wildly behind them.

When they reached the first aid cabinet at the back of the gym, she sat on a nearby bench while he got supplies from the first aid kit. He joined her after, placing a roll of gauze and a tube of betadine between them on the bench.

He cleaned up her hands, wrapping bandages around both sets of knuckles after. She watched in silence as he worked, only mumbling a 'thank you' when he was done while she gingerly tried to flex her fingers.

"I'd consider what the partner in question says to their significant other when they check on them," Michael said, tossing used cotton wool into a trash can.

Kelsey frowned in confusion, staring blankly at him.

'"The answer to your question," he clarified and understanding dawned in her eyes. "For example, if they fussed over the partner's location and who they were with, that could be considered a red flag. But if they only asked whether their partner is okay and when they'd be home, you could dismiss that as genuine concern until you get more evidence," he continued.

He paused as she nodded, then asked his next question in a careful tone. "Why did you ask that?"

"It was in the quiz our Psychology of Violence professor sprung on us today," she replied. "Remind me to put you in my backpack next time so you can give me the answers."

It seemed like the truth so he let it go and instead asked, "Do you need to talk?"

She gasped. "I thought you said we're not supposed to talk personal stuff because we're not friends."

"I'm making an exception today," he shrugged. "To the talking, not the friends part," he specified.

"Just admit I'm winning you over," she laughed. She blew out a breath and stood, carefully pulling out her hair tie and shaking her hair free. "I was mad after seeing that footage and I wanted to punch something."

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