*From Trainer (Outlaw Souls MC)
I arrived at the fitness center earlier than usual. Swole had asked me to come in to help with some administrative stuff before my afternoon classes, and I figured bringing Dominic with me would be easier than coordinating with the sitter for just a couple of hours.
"Can I play with the Legos in Swole's office?" Dominic asked as we walked through the front doors.
"We'll ask her."
The gym was busier than I expected for a weekday morning. A spin class was going full-tilt in the studio at the back, the rhythmic thumping of the music vibrating through the floor. I spotted Tammy leading a small pilates group near the windows, her voice calm and measured as she guided them through stretches.
But what caught my attention was the cluster of parents and children gathered near the smaller studio room—the one Swole had been setting up for the new kids' yoga program. Through the glass, I could see colorful yoga mats arranged in a circle, with foam blocks and stretchy bands stacked neatly in the corner.
The kids—maybe seven or eight of them, all under ten years old—were standing around looking restless while their parents checked phones and shot annoyed glances at one another. One mom had her arms crossed, tapping her foot.
No instructor in sight.
"What's going on over there?" I asked, more to myself than to Dominic.
"Mom, can I go look?"
"Stay close."
Dominic ran ahead while I detoured toward Swole's office. The door was open, and I found her behind her desk, phone pressed to her ear, looking like she wanted to strangle someone through the line.
"I don't care if you have food poisoning or the plague," she was saying. "You were supposed to be here forty-five minutes ago. These parents paid for—" She paused, listening, and her jaw tightened. "Fine. Don't bother coming back at all."
She ended the call and tossed the phone onto her desk.
"Problem?" I asked.
"My kids' yoga instructor just quit. Over the phone. After not showing up for her first actual class." Swole rubbed her temples. "I've got eight kids out there and their parents are about to riot."
"That's rough."
"Rough doesn't begin to cover it. I'm going to have to refund everyone and—"
A commotion from the gym floor interrupted her. We both turned toward the window that looked out onto the main area. My heart stuttered when I saw who had just walked through the front door.
Trainer.
He was impossible to miss. Tall, broad-shouldered, his leather jacket stretched across muscles that belonged on a magazine cover. The full sleeve tattoo on his right arm was visible beneath the pushed-up sleeve of his black T-shirt. He looked like the kind of man mothers warned their daughters about—the kind who rode motorcycles and probably knew how to throw a punch that could rearrange someone's face.
He looked terrifying.
And he was heading straight toward the cluster of kids and parents.
"Oh, hell," Swole muttered, moving past me toward the door. "Let me go explain to him that the class is cancelled before he scares the shit out of everyone."
I followed her, curious despite myself.
But by the time we reached the studio, something unexpected was happening.
Trainer was crouched down to eye level with one of the smaller kids—a little girl with pigtails who couldn't have been older than five. She was pointing at the yoga mats and saying something I couldn't hear, and Trainer was nodding like whatever she said was the most important thing in the world.
Then he straightened up and looked at the group of waiting parents. "You all here for the kids' yoga class?"
A few hesitant nods.
"Instructor's not coming," he said. "But if you want, I can run the kids through some basics. Breathing exercises, stretches, balance poses. I trained in martial arts for years-yoga's part of the discipline."
The parents exchanged uncertain looks. I didn't blame them. This was a man who looked like he could bench press a car, covered in tattoos, with a beard that gave him an outlaw edge. Not exactly the image of a children's yoga instructor.
But one of the moms—a younger woman with a toddler on her hip—just shrugged. "I already paid. Might as well."
That seemed to break the ice. A few others nodded their agreement, though I noticed some of them positioning themselves to watch closely.
"All right, kids." Trainer clapped his hands once, not loud enough to startle anyone, but enough to get their attention. "Everybody grab a mat and find a spot in the circle. We're gonna start with some breathing to help us focus."
I stood frozen, watching as the scariest-looking man I'd ever seen guided eight children through gentle breathing exercises. His voice was calm and patient, nothing like the gruff tone I'd heard him use with adults. When a little boy couldn't sit still and kept wiggling on his mat, Trainer just smiled and said, "That's okay, buddy. Wiggle it out. We'll try again when you're ready."
Dominic had drifted closer to the group and was watching with wide eyes. Trainer noticed him.
"Hey, Dominic. You want to join in?"
Dominic looked back at me, a question in his eyes. I nodded, and a huge smile broke across his face as he grabbed an empty mat and joined the circle.
For the next forty-five minutes, I watched Trainer teach those children with more patience than I'd ever seen from anyone. He walked them through downward dog, making it into a game where they had to bark like puppies. He showed them warrior pose, telling them to pretend they were superheroes about to take flight. He even got them to hold tree pose by challenging them to see who could be the stillest tree in the forest.
But it was Dominic who captured my attention most.
My son hadn't smiled like that in months. Maybe longer. The shadow that always seemed to hover behind his eyes—the one left by too many years of walking on eggshells around his father—had lifted. He was laughing. Actually laughing, loud and free, as Trainer pretended to be a bear waking up from hibernation for the stretching sequence.
Something hot and tight pressed against the back of my eyes.
"He's good with kids."
I startled at Swole's voice beside me. I'd forgotten she was there.
"Yeah," I managed. "He really is."
"Trainer grew up in foster care," she said quietly. "Bounced around a lot when he was young. I think he knows what it's like to feel small and scared, so he makes sure no kid ever feels that way around him."
I didn't know what to say to that. It made my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with my still-healing ribs.
The class was winding down when I noticed Trainer frowning at the wooden balance beam they used for some of the standing poses. He tested it with his hand, and the thing wobbled dangerously on its base.
"Swole," he called. "You got a toolkit around here?"
"Supply closet by the office. Why?"
"This base is loose. It's not safe."
"I'll have someone look at it tomorrow—"
"I'll fix it now." His tone left no room for argument. "The kids shouldn't have to deal with broken equipment."
The parents had started collecting their children, several of them stopping to thank Trainer with surprised smiles. One dad even clapped him on the shoulder and said, "That was better than the actual classes my daughter's taken."
Trainer just shrugged it off, but I caught the hint of a smile beneath his beard.
Dominic ran over to me while Trainer retrieved the toolkit and got to work on the balance beam. My son was flushed and happy, practically vibrating with energy.
"Mom, did you see? Did you see me do tree pose? I didn't fall even once!"
"I saw, baby. You were amazing."
"Trainer said I have really good balance. He said I'm a natural." His eyes were shining. "Can I do yoga with you sometimes, Mom? Can I?"
My heart cracked open a little more. "Absolutely. I'd love that."
"Yes!"
Dominic threw his arms around my waist, squeezing tight. "This was the best day," he said into my stomach.
I hugged him back, blinking against the burn in my eyes.
Over his head, I watched Trainer crouched beside the balance beam, his massive hands gentle as he tightened bolts and tested the stability. When he was satisfied, he stood up and caught me watching him.
Something passed between us. Something I couldn't name but felt all the way down to my bones.
He gave me a small nod, then headed for the front door without a word.
Swole appeared beside me again. "So," she said, and I could hear the smirk in her voice without even looking at her. "Still think he's just some scary biker?"
I watched Trainer's broad back disappear through the gym's front entrance.
That's when I knew I was in trouble.
