Healing Love by Abby Niles
Copyright © 2016 by Abby Niles. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
Ella Watts fought the urge to snatch her driver’s license back from the bulky man sitting behind the desk. Keeping a low profile meant not drawing attention to herself in any way. Ripping the license from his hand would be doing exactly that.
As he made a copy on the scanner, she pasted on a pleasant smile and pretended to look around the sparsely decorated gym office as if there were nothing to worry about. And there wasn’t. Except for the small, inconsequential fact that the license she’d given Mac “The Snake” Hannon was as fake as her smile.
“Okay, Kelsey. Everything’s ready to go,” he said and handed the ID card back to her.
Ella breathed a sigh of relief. It was the first time she’d used it since having it made four days ago. So far, she’d been able to pay for everything—even the tiny furnished bungalow she’d rented from a sweet, elderly lady—with the cash she’d withdrawn from her bank account. A hefty amount of cash. She left only enough to pay her automatically withdrawn bills for a few months.
She wasn’t running away from her life. She just needed to hide for a while, and leaving a debit card trail behind her wasn’t exactly smart.
Mac tapped the paperwork together, placed it in a neat pile on the edge of his desk, then pushed back his chair. As he rose, he leaned over the desk. His menacing height towering over her made every muscle stiffen.
He offered his hand with a warm, real smile. “Welcome to Coolier Mixed Martial Arts, Kelsey. We’re happy to have you as a member.”
She silently cursed her automatic reaction. The big guys always did this to her. Even though she had trained around them for years, any sudden movement toward her, no matter how innocent, still freaked her out. That was just one of many reasons she was determined to train with a light-heavyweight. One way to get over a fear was to face it head-on.
Rising, she took his hand and shook it firmly, not breaking eye contact. Never show weakness. Never allow intimidation. Always exude confidence. The mantra helped center her, and the tension eased from her body. “Thank you. Everything’s set for tomorrow, then?”
“Yep,” he said, sitting back down and folding his fingers together on top of the desk. “You had an impressive list of requirements for your trainer, but I know the perfect person for the job. I’d introduce you, but”—he glanced at his watch and frowned—“he’s running a little late today.”
Hmm. Not a great quality in a trainer. She needed dependability. She was on borrowed time. “Is he late a lot?”
Mac grimaced. Well, there was her answer.
“And there isn’t anyone here who isn’t late?”
“With everything you requested, Lance is your best fit. Just hold your judgment until you’ve trained with him. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
She pressed her lips together. “Fine. But if he sucks in the least, I want a new trainer.”
Surprise widened the man’s eyes. Yeah, that had come out demanding, but she didn’t care. Training was essential to her getting back home and on with her life, and she refused to allow a slacker to interfere with it.
“I say that’s a fair deal.”
Ella nodded. “All right then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She left the office and made her way to the front of the gym, hoping she hadn’t made a mistake. She’d done her homework, though, before coming here today. Coolier Mixed Martial Arts had nothing but positive reviews. Owned by Ragin Coolier, the establishment hosted some well-known fighters that even she had heard of. However, a Lance had not been mentioned on the website. He must be a new addition, and he must be damned good if they allowed him to come and go as he pleased.
Either way, she’d give the guy one chance. If he turned out to be a waste of her time, she’d figure something else out. She glanced around. She really hoped it worked out though. This place had everything, including a ring. She needed to focus the most on sparring.
She opened the glass front door and stepped out into the cool October air. As she made her way down the sidewalk to her car, a pained grunt came from her left. She froze, listening intently for the sound to repeat. Not a second later another grunt sounded. She glanced toward the edge of the building then inched toward the alley.
As she reached the corner, she poked her head around and her stomach twisted hard. About fifteen feet away, three average-built guys surrounded a beefy blond man. One of the guys lunged at him, but the blond weaved out of the way, only to have another guy wrap his arms around the blond’s torso so his arms were pinned to his sides. The smaller man was no match for the blond. He easily broke out of the hold, then spun around and punched the guy. He doubled over, holding his face.
“Fuck. I think he broke my nose.”
One of the others took advantage of the blond man’s distraction and landed a right jab on his chin. His head whipped to the side and he stumbled backward into a dumpster. With him in a weak position, both men attacked and sent fists into his gut, side, and head. Pained groans filled the air as he sank to his knees on the asphalt.
Jesus, they were going to kill him.
She slipped her cell from her pocket and dialed 911 with shaky fingers.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“There are three guys jumping another guy in the alley between Handover Street and McDowell,” she whispered. “Get here fast. Please.” She ended the call.
Panicked, she studied her surroundings. She couldn’t just stand here and let those three thugs continue to beat up on that man until the cops arrived. They might kill him. She’d never be able to forgive herself if that were to happen.
But she wasn’t stupid either. There were three of them. One of her. She had to think of her own safety, too. Surprising them would be her best plan of action.
A car was parked about five feet away. The men were all standing near the front end of the car. She assessed each man’s position. One stepped back, breathing heavily, and wiped his arm across his forehead. The other was still occupied with the blond and was taking extreme pleasure in kicking him in the stomach. The guy with the broken nose was on his feet, but still preoccupied trying to stop the blood flow.
She focused on the one who was panting.
Swallowing back her fear, she crouch-ran to the bumper of the parked car then crept between the vehicle and the wall of the building until she reached the front. Keeping low, she waited for the breathless man to step closer. The moment he did, she sprang onto his back and slid her arm underneath his chin, then locked the submission hold into place with her other arm. The man froze and then started spinning around, trying to dislodge her from his back. Prepared for the reaction, she wrapped her legs around his waist and brought the choke hold in tighter. The man collapsed to his knees.
She glared at the guy who’d frozen mid-punch to stare at her with stunned eyes.
“Back off,” she said with a deadly calm that surprised even her.
She wasn’t sure if it was shock at someone interfering, or the fact that it was a woman who’d brought down their friend, but one guy stepped back from the blond, while the other with the bloodied nose lowered his hand from his face.
“Get the hell out of here.” Perhaps telling them to leave wasn’t the best idea, but she didn’t like the odds. She needed to keep the upper hand before their shock wore off.
The two men hesitated, so she tightened her grip on their buddy’s throat. A strangling gargle wheezed out. He slapped her forearm.
“Tell them to leave,” she ordered.
Purple-faced, the guy squeaked out a “go,” and his cronies followed his order.
As soon as they ran off, she pressed her lips to the man’s ear. “That wasn’t a fair fight, was it? People like you make me sick.”
She lowered her feet to the ground, and squeezed hard once more before releasing the man with a shove to the ground. His palms slapped the asphalt. He lifted his head and glared at her.
Straightening to her whole five-foot four-inches, she glared back, wishing more than anything this had been the way that night had ended so long ago, with her towering over him, daring him with just an intense look to make another move.
The man pushed up, muttering, “Fucking bitch.”
Meh. She’d been called worse. “Go join your friends.”
As he straightened, his tall frame overwhelmed her small one. Towered over her. Fear immediately closed her throat, made her palms sweat.
Never show weakness. Never allow intimidation. Always exude confidence. She silently chanted the mantra for the second time that day, gathering the strength she needed to stand her ground.
Swallowing, she kept her gaze locked on him, watching for any sign he’d charge her, uncertain what the outcome would be if he did. That was the scariest part of it all—the not knowing. The worry that even with all the years of training, if she was attacked by a man again, she’d freeze, and the past would repeat itself.
The guy continued to stare at her, then a slow grin spread across his face. “I like you. Just a little feisty kitty-cat, aren’t you?”
The condescending comment eased her fear, allowing anger to seep in. Another thing she hated about assholes like this. She’d just taken this man to his knees and he smiled like she was some kitten doing a cute trick. Dick.
He glanced at the blond, who was now standing straight, fury and strength radiating off him. Even in black jogging pants and a white logo T-shirt, the man screamed badass. The inked sleeve of black and gray ink, with slashes of color running down his left arm only increased that quality.
Ella’s breath caught at the magnificent display of authority. Her reaction startled her. This guy was huge, dominant, and all kinds of pissed off—things that usually sent her anxiety through the roof. Not on him. With him, it was a breathtaking view.
The dick backed away and pointed a finger at the blond Hercules. “This isn’t over, Black.”
Wait. They knew each other? Dread curdled her gut. Hell no. This couldn’t be happening. She started backing away.
“Fuck you,” the stranger said.
“You’re the one who’s going to be fucked if you don’t watch yourself.”
Sirens sounded in the distance, and she froze.
And she’d called the cops to top it off. She closed her eyes. Great. Two days in Kansas, and she’d stepped into some kind of messed up Soprano shit. The dick let out a surprised chuckle and shook his head. “Seriously? The cops?” He pinned the blond with his eyes. “Fix it.”
Then he ran off.
“You called the cops?” The guy shoved his fingers through his hair and groaned. “Fuck.”
Well, that was a fine how-do-you-do to someone who’d put herself at risk to help. It wasn’t her fault he had himself mixed up with the wrong people. “You’re welcome…ass. All I saw was a dude getting ganged up on by three men. Fuck me for wanting to help.”
“I had it covered. How about minding your own business next time? That was between them and me.”
Mind your own business. Maybe it was advice she should adhere to; she had before. Would have been one of those people on hidden camera who, with that exact mindset, walked past people fighting, to later have John Quinones from What Would You Do? shove a microphone in her face asking her why she hadn’t helped.
Now that she’d been on the receiving end of those fists, had prayed for intervention, she couldn’t live with herself if she simply minded her own business.
The cops screeched to a halt then hurried out of the car, hands ready on their guns.
The blond immediately put up his hands in surrender—as if he’d done it before. Great, again. “There’s been a misunderstanding, officers. Some guys and I were horsing around back here. She thought I was being attacked.”
One of the officers studied her. “Is this true, ma’am?”
Ella might have wanted to help, but if this guy was involved with something bad, she was going to get the target off her back as quickly as possible.
“It was my bad. I completely misinterpreted the situation. I yelled for them to stop and they immediately did. I forgot I’d called you guys until I heard the sirens. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
Their gazes went between her and the blond before nodding. “All right. You guys have a nice day.”
As soon as they left, she started to make her way back to the sidewalk.
“Hey!” the blond man called from behind her. “What’s your name?”
Yeah. Like she had the word “idiot” stamped on her forehead. He was so not getting her name. To make that point clear, she spun around but continued walking backward, flipping him two middle fingers and an eat-shit scowl.
The grin that spread his lips caused her heart to stutter for a second. Angry, the man had been amazing, but smiling? He was potent.
Stunned at her reaction, she did an about face and quickened her steps until she was back out on the sidewalk.
Her confusing response to that man made her only more certain she didn’t want to know his name, didn’t want to know a damn thing about him or him to know anything about her. Whatever this guy’s deal was, it definitely wasn’t innocent. Last thing she needed was to get caught up in more trouble. She had enough of that already.
…
What a fucking day.
Lance pulled the wrecker into the driveway of his home. The beams from his headlights swept across the sage-sided farmhouse. As he cut the engine, he leaned his forehead against the wheel, trying to gather the energy to open the door and go inside. Man, he was dog-assed tired.
He’d been going since five this morning, and it was creeping up on three a.m. now. A twenty-two hour day. Thankfully, most of his days weren’t this long. He pushed open the door and stepped onto the gravel. Stretching, he groaned at the wonderful feeling of his muscles releasing. He’d been on three calls tonight: two broken down vehicles needing to be towed to a nearby mechanic, and one car that needed to be jimmied. Each had been an hour drive from the other.
Wearily, he trudged up the stairs to the wraparound porch, opened the screen, and unlocked the front door. As he entered the house, he tossed his keys in a bowl on the wood table beside the door, then stomped up the stairs, yanking his shirt over his head along the way.
What he wanted was a nice, long shower and then eight hours of good, solid sleep. Though he knew that was asking too much. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept longer than a four-hour stretch. Between taking the job at Coolier, and his wrecker service which he worked twenty-four seven, three hundred sixty-five days a year, he didn’t have time for sleep. Or much else. Including his daughter.
As he stepped onto the landing of the second floor, he stopped at the first bedroom. At the sight of the darkened room, his chest tightened. Flicking on the light, he stared at the empty twin bed with its dark pink bedspread covered in light pink pigs.
Goddamn it. He missed her. Missed her laughter. Missed hearing her bounce around the house. Hell, he even missed yelling at her when she wasn’t listening.
How quickly things changed. Wasn’t that the story of his life?
Just a few months ago, his schedule hadn’t mattered as much. Gayle, his quirky neighbor, had worked mostly from home unless she was on a storm chase. She loved Skylar and would keep her anytime Lance needed her to, even if he received a late night call for service. Skylar had been with him overnight a lot more back then.
Unfortunately, chase season was over, and Gayle had started working at the local news station as the chief meteorologist. She was hardly home now, and if she was, she was spending some much needed time with Mac, her fiancé.
That meant Skylar rarely stayed over any more, and he had to settle for daddy/daughter dates. He fucking hated it.
He flipped the switch and backed into the hallway. The creak of the wood floors beneath him echoed loudly throughout the empty house. The silence, the emptiness of the place was starting to get to him. When he’d bought this house in foreclosure a few years ago, it’d been run into the ground. It’d needed so much work and he’d painstakingly done all the renovations himself, one project at a time. He’d wanted to give Skylar a home with him, too. Not just the one she had with her mom and stepdad.
Unfortunately, it was just him most of the time now in the huge house. It fucking sucked.
He went into the bathroom then turned on the shower. Bracing his hands on either side of the sink, he looked in the mirror and grimaced at the light bruise under one eye. Other than some soreness in his side, the three assholes hadn’t inflicted too much damage. Once they’d gotten him to the ground and ganged up on him, he’d been in some serious shit. He had that mystery woman to thank for showing up when she had.
Too bad she’d refused to give him her name.
He pressed on the area. Not too sore. Probably be discolored for a couple of days. He’d definitely had a lot worse from a simple sparring session at the gym. No one would notice it.
He wasn’t sure what had sparked today’s encounter with the McNealys’ thugs. The gamblers only sent the bushwhackers out when their dirty work needed to be done. Yeah, he still owed them about sixty-five thousand dollars, but he was completely current on his payments.
As long as he paid on time, they weren’t supposed to have any issues.
Apparently, they were now having issues. It was only a matter of time before he found out what.
…
As Lance slammed the door of his Jeep, he looked around the alley for any sign of the bushwhackers. The last thing he needed was to get jumped again. Thankfully, there wasn’t any sign of them, so he hurried down the sidewalk.
He was late…again. Two days in a row was something he tried not to do, but he had no control over when a call came in for his wrecker business. He got a call. He went. Period.
He grabbed the door handle, rushed inside the gym.
“I set your appointment up with Billy until you got here.” Mac greeted him with a slight, irritated edge to his voice.
That would be the extent his best friend and pseudo boss would show to let him know he was annoyed by his late arrival. Lance was thankful Mac knew better than to outright say anything. He’d known the deal. If he said something about him being late, Lance was liable to flip the fuck out.
When Mac moved to Kansas permanently, deciding to retire from fighting because of a head injury, he’d taken Ragin up on his offer to help manage and coach the facility. The moment his friend had accepted the position, he’d started bugging the piss out of Lance to come in and help with training. At first he’d declined, but Mac could be a persuasive motherfucker, and Lance had finally caved, with the understanding that his wrecker business came first. Mac could take it or leave it. He’d taken it.
“Who is it?” Lance asked.
“Her name is Kelsey. She signed up yesterday.”
He glanced around the gym for Billy, finding the featherweight fighter in the ring with a blonde who seemed vaguely familiar. With her back toward him he couldn’t be certain, but the rigid set of the woman’s shoulders reminded him of someone. Billy crouched and shuffled around her. Body tensing, she mimicked his stance and followed his movements, slowly turning until her familiar face punched him in the gut. He bit back a groan, muttering, “Fuck me.”
Mac shot him a look. “Do you know her?”
“We had an encounter yesterday. She probably won’t want to train with me.”
Which was fine by him. Other than the little bit he’d shared with Mac a few months ago, she was the only person who knew about his connection to the McNealy cousins. Though she had intrigued the hell out of him yesterday, the smarter thing for him to do would be to stay the fuck away from her.
“What did you do?”
“You know me. I was in a pissy mood, bumped into her, and snapped at her,” he evaded. The last thing he was going to do was tell Mac that the mob squad had tried jumping him, or that a beautiful blonde ninja had stepped in to help.
“You need to get more sleep,” Mac said.
He’d sleep when he was dead, which, considering what had gone down yesterday, might not be that far in the future.
“What’s she looking for?” Lance asked, refocusing on the present. She had impressed him yesterday with her choke hold, but that didn’t mean she knew squat about MMA. That could have simply been adrenaline spurring her on.
“She was pretty specific in what she wants.” A weird expression crossed Mac’s face, a mixture of consternation and intrigue. “She’s not looking for a pussy workout—her words, not mine. She wants a trainer who knows a lot about ground work, but can also help her build the strength and speed of her stand-up. She wants to be treated just like any of the male fighters in this building, and the most interesting thing is she wanted a light-heavyweight build. That’s you.”
Lance stared at his friend for a second, digesting the information. That was a tall order from someone just coming in for a workout. “Does she fight?”
That was the only explanation for her requests he could think of. In recent years, women fighters had surfaced in the industry, and they kicked some serious ass.
“Nope. Just does this as a hobby.”
Kind of an intense hobby for someone who had no interest in making it a career.
“She’s good,” Mac continued. “Watch her.”
Lance crossed his arms over his chest and studied her inside the ring, still circling with Billy, dodging his attempt at a takedown. She was a beauty. Even with everything that had been happening, he’d noticed that yesterday. Hell, he’d have to be blind to miss it. After she’d sent Ralph to the ground, she stood there with confidence oozing off her. No fear or intimidation had even flicked in her eyes as the man towered over her. Other than the birth of his daughter, it was the most awe inspiring sight he’d ever seen. When Ralph had started to rise, Lance had been uncertain of what the man was capable of, so he’d stepped forward, daring him to try anything. And still, she hadn’t wavered in her fearless stance.
Today she was the same, except she wasn’t wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. No, today she was in a tight teal workout top and matching spandex shorts. The outfit showed off the softs swells of her toned, athletic body.
Suddenly, she went down on both knees and flipped Billy over her back onto his. The canvas thudded under the impact of his body. Impressive.
“I’ve watched her all morning,” Mac said. “She’s fucking amazing, and has been training for a while.”
“Is this all you’ve seen her do?”
“Nah. Billy warmed her up on the bag. Dude, let me tell you, that woman has a fierce right hook. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.”
Mac was exaggerating. As an ex-heavyweight MMA fighter the man had taken some violent hits. But Lance got where he was coming from. The woman, while still shapely and soft, had a steel quality about her—a don’t-even-think-to-fuck-with-me aura. He liked that.
She would be fun to train. As much as he needed to keep his distance from her, a thrill encased him now. Maybe they could leave whatever happened yesterday outside the door.
Billy glanced over and straightened. After saying something to Kelsey, and patting her on the shoulder, he slipped out of the ring and jogged over. “It’s too bad she wants a light-heavyweight trainer. I’d add her to my client list in a fucking second.”
“Did she say why she was focused on that weight class?” Mac asked.
“The only thing I really got out of her was she’s been training with featherweights and lightweights for years. She wanted to challenge herself.”
That was a huge fucking challenge though. Featherweights and lightweights weighed between one-forty-five and one-fifty-five. Light-heavyweights weighed in at two-oh-five and were much bulkier. Strange jump to make as a challenge.
He shook his head. Whatever. He was the last person to pass judgment on someone’s decision. God knows he’d made some bad ones over the years, which he was still paying for. The thing he needed to focus on was if she would even work with him.
While Billy and Mac chatted, Lance kept his gaze locked on Kelsey, waiting for her to notice him. Right now, she was busy walking around the ring, sipping from a water bottle. As she snapped the lid back on, her head slowly turned in their direction, scanning first Mac, then Billy, and finally landing on him. Those blue eyes immediately narrowed and her nose scrunched in a scowl.
Lance bit back a smile. The woman didn’t hide how she felt.
Knowing it would goad her, he fluttered his fingers in greeting. Her scowl deepened.
“I probably should get over to her,” Lance said to Mac. “Can’t keep a paying member waiting.”
As he approached her, she muttered something that sounded remarkably like, “Who in the hell did I piss off?” A chuckle tickled the back of his throat, but he beat it back. He wanted to rile her up, not flat-out piss her off.
He leaned against the bottom rope. “So, we meet again.”
She gave him an irritated look. “Unfortunately. Don’t worry though. I’ll mind my business. You do your thing. I’ll do mine.”
He definitely deserved that snide jab. He’d regretted his reaction to her help ever since the adrenaline had worn off. He wanted to apologize, but didn’t want to get into it here in the gym. “Guess you won’t be thrilled to hear I’m Lance, huh?”
A soft, derisive laugh shot out of her mouth as she hung her head and shook it. “And there’s my luck again, in all its glory.” She rubbed her forehead and let out a defeated sigh. “It is what it is. Mac said you’re a damn good trainer. I promised to give you a chance. Now prove it to me.”
Her challenge excited him even more. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, then slipped under the bottom rope into the ring. “It’d be my pleasure.”
After pushing to his feet, Lance strode toward her, beckoning her forward with flicks of his fingers. “Come on, Wonder Woman. Show me what you got.”
He expected her to respond to his challenge by meeting him in the middle of the ring. Instead, as he came nearer, she shifted slightly backward—a clear signal to any fighter that their opponent was hesitant. When her throat worked on a swallow, he stopped his approach. She muttered something he couldn’t make out, then squared her shoulders and kicked her chin in the air a notch.
“Wonder Woman?” she said with a trace of anger in her voice. “So I save your sorry ass from three thugs, and as thanks you make a backhanded insult.”
“Whoa. Back down, tiger.” He glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Everyone seemed to be minding their own business. “I meant it as a compliment. You impressed me yesterday.”
Tension released its hold on her shoulders, and she grimaced. “Oh. Sorry. I’ve had a lot of condescending comments like that over the years, from guys much smaller than you. Instinctive reaction. My bad.”
“I can’t say that shocks me. Yesterday, though, you used a surprise attack. Let’s see what you got going toe-to-toe with someone.”
That chin went up again, and again he got the feeling he’d struck a nerve with her.
“Fair enough.”
After another momentary pause, she met him in the middle of the ring. Considering the way she was yesterday with the mob squad, and just now with Billy, her hesitation baffled him. Was she realizing how different going up against a light-heavyweight would be?
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Because you’re not as confident with me as you were with Billy.”
She blinked. “You can see that?”
A current of vulnerability running underneath her question confused him further. “I’m trained to see that.”
Silence followed his statement before a small smile came to her lips. “Mac was right. You are a great trainer. Now let’s do this.”
Pride expanded his chest. With twenty years in the industry under his belt, he knew he was a damn good trainer, but for some reason, having Kelsey say it seemed to mean a great deal more. “You got it.”
They both crouched into defensive positions and circled each other. He made no move toward her. For right now, he wanted her to be the aggressor, to see how good she was at initiating a take-down. Kelsey slapped out at him first a few times, trying to spur him into a reaction, but he held strong.
Finally, she lunged forward. Lance immediately locked arms with her. She was stronger than he expected, but no match for someone like him. He could have easily shifted to become the aggressor. Still he allowed her the control. She slipped her arm around his neck, using her strength to bend him forward. Knowing she’d swipe for his leg, he countered by jumping back, and she lost her grip around his head.
She straightened, ran a hand across her face, then moved back into defense position, immediately lunging to lock arms again. Still on their feet, they wrestled for a second. She really was good, but he wanted to see what she’d do if she actually brought him down. Kelsey worked her grip down his body then circled his knee with her arms and lifted—a move he could’ve easily maneuvered out of, but he allowed her to take him down.
Fury etched every groove in her face. She shoved away from him. “What the hell? I’m not paying for some pansy-ass training. Give it all to me.”
If he gave her his all, she wouldn’t like the outcome.
“There’s no point.” Lance jumped to his feet. “I’ll have you pinned in seconds. You’re not ready.”
Color crept into her cheeks as her jaw clenched. “I’ll say what I am or am not ready for. I’m paying you. I’m telling you to go at me with everything you have.”
“You don’t fight, right?” he asked.
A sharp shake of her head gave away her shock at the change in subject. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just trying to understand your motivation.”
“You’re not my shrink. You don’t need to understand my motivation.”
“You know you’re a woman, right?”
Eyes bulging, she threw her shoulders back in an impressive display of indignation. “Are you calling me weak?”
“No. You’re actually pretty fucking strong. But there’s always someone stronger, faster, and more experienced. I outweigh you by at least seventy-five pounds. My weight alone is an advantage over you.”
“Don’t you think I know that? It’s why I asked to train with someone of your weight class.”
“Why?” He should just drop it, but for the life of him he couldn’t. He wanted to know.
“Why do you care?”
He continued to stare at her expectedly.
She heaved a long sigh. “Fine. There’s no reason other than I’ve been doing this for years. I’m just trying to take it to the next level. Now, can we drop this and get back to what I’m paying you for?”
That was a bullshit answer, but he wasn’t going to get any more out of her. “We have ten more minutes. You have my all.”
“Thank you.”
This time she didn’t hesitate in meeting him back in the middle of the cage. They locked arms, wrestling for dominance. She swept her leg at his, trying to knock him off his feet. Countering, he stepped forward, grabbed her in a headlock, and rolled both of them until she was flat on her back and he was straddling her waist. “Match over.”
Frustration darkened her features as they both rose to their feet and moved to face each other again.
“Told you,” he couldn’t stop himself from saying. “You’re not ready.”
Kelsey ground her teeth in irritation. “I am ready. Again.”
While he could respect her tenacity, he still wasn’t giving her everything he had. But maybe she needed to feel the full force of his strength to understand that she was nowhere near ready to take him on.
They circled each other. Lance studied her position, searching for his opening. He respected the way her gaze was doing the same to him. The woman had a shitload of fighting knowledge in that beautiful head. Too bad he was going to have to give her a serious reality check.
As she made a slight motion that indicated she was about to lunge, he charged her, grabbed her around the waist, and brought her down on the canvas with a thud. The body beneath him froze. He used the shock to his advantage and locked in an arm bar. “Match over…again.”
Then he released her and shoved to his feet. When she didn’t move to do the same, he glanced down at her. Her eyes were closed, and her skin was a shade paler than before as she took a long shaky breath.
“No,” she whispered, then hopped to her feet. She paced the opposite side of the ring for a few seconds then stopped with her back to him, hands on her hips.
What in the hell? “Hey. You okay?”
She stood like that a second longer then faced him. A tension resided on her face that hadn’t been there before, making the smile she sent him almost brittle. “Totally fine. The last ten minutes were awesome. Thank you.”
Yeah, he didn’t believe that thank-you. She was clearly upset, but he wasn’t sure what to say to help. Best to pretend he hadn’t noticed. He preferred when people did that to him. “All right. Same time tomorrow?”
A thumbs-up was her response, then she turned around and climbed out of the ring. What was this woman’s deal? She didn’t seem angry at him, but upset with herself. While he could sympathize with that, had she really expected to just come in here and dominate someone much larger than she was?
He followed her out of the ring. “You do understand that, even though you’ve had amazing training, you asked to go up against someone you would never be matched with in a cage, right? There’s a reason fighters are put in weight classes.”
“I know what I’m doing, and I don’t need a lecture.”
“All right,” he said, throwing up his hands in surrender. If this was what she wanted, then she’d get it. “Anyway, if we’re going to work together”—he lowered his voice—“I need to apologize for my behavior yesterday.”
A shrug lifted her shoulders. “Like you said, that’s none of my business, and it still isn’t.”
He glanced around. Seeing that no one was paying them any mind, he returned his attention to Kelsey, only to find her watching him curiously. He didn’t like the knowing look on her face.
“Either way,” he said, running a hand over his head. “I acted like a dick and I shouldn’t have. You were just trying to help.”
She sidled up to him, and his chest suddenly tightened in the age-old telltale sign of attraction. Fuck. It was one thing to notice she was a beautiful woman—quite another for him to respond to it. He didn’t have time for a woman to spark his interest right now.
“Everybody has secrets,” she whispered. “Yours is safe with me.”
Not only was she beautiful, but she was perceptive. He was grateful for that.
She sent him another tight smile then turned to her gym bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Try not to be late this time. I have no patience for slackers.” She sent him a wink.
Lance had to fight yet another smile.
“I’ll be fifteen minutes late instead of thirty. How’s that?”
A soft laugh shook her. “You’d be headed in the right direction, at least.”
He had the insane urge to continue the banter between them, which immediately propelled him to get the fuck away from her—and fast. Once he was across the gym, he turned to look at her. She was staring at the wall in front of her. Worry grooved deep lines into her face.
All the things that baffled him about Kelsey came roaring back.
She knew he had a secret, but he’d take a gamble and say she also had one. A big one.
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