I glance up at the guys, scowling at them. “Must we have an audience?”
Instructor Corr steps up to me, sneering. “Shut your goddamned mouth, or I’ll shut it for you. You speak only when spoken to.”
“It’s a valid question,” Bry says, coming to my defense.
Instructor Corr snorts. “Butt out of shit that doesn’t concern you, and I suggest you quit trying to get in her panties because that one’s nothing but trouble.”
“That might be true,” I agree, smiling at Bry. “But I’m the right kind of trouble.”
“Don’t I know it.” Bry grins, and there’s another loud throat clearing from above. I ignore Saint this time, slapping an amicable smile on my face as I address the instructor. “Permission to warm up, sir.”
“Permission denied.” His smile is tight.
“I might get injured if I don’t warm up first.”
“What a shame it’d be if we had to send you home early.”
I take a step forward, eyeballing him. “I don’t think you quite understand the situation, sir. Neo Lennox is soon to be my stepfather, and he chose me to be the first female member for a reason. Those assholes up there”—I point at the guys—“are the junior chapter in Prestwick and Lowell, and they are very protective of me. Especially Saint Lennox. I really don’t think you want to cross them.”
Or me, but I keep that thought to myself because the jerk has already proven he has little regard for women and I’m as insignificant as the dirt under his boot.
“Unless you have a death wish.” I shrug. “And it’s not like I’m asking for much.”
He grabs me by the neck. “Listen here, you little cunt.” He squeezes my throat harder. I could extract myself, but I’d rather let Saint prove my point and reserve showing my hand.
In my peripheral, I watch Saint jump off the walkway without fear or any regard for his safety, and fuck, if that doesn’t seriously turn me on. He stalks toward us with his nostrils flaring and murder in his eyes. Instructor Corr’s eyes widen in alarm when he hears the approaching footfall, and he twists his head around in time for Saint’s punch to land on the side of his face.
His arms drop from my neck, and he staggers back as Saint hits him again, landing a powerful punch on his nose this time. Saint grabs him by the shirt, slamming him into the wooden post behind us. “Touch her again, and I’ll fucking bury you alive in a cesspit of poisonous snakes.” He slams him against the post once more. “Is that clear?”
Instructor Corr nods, and Saint lets him go. Corr swipes at the blood pumping from his nose, and naked anger oozes from every pore. I doubt he’ll heed Saint’s warning once the guys leave, but I’ll take whatever he throws at me and throw it back with added venom.
“You okay, princess?” Saint probes my neck with his fingers, inspecting my skin for damage. It’s hysterical because we both know he’s not opposed to choking—if he’s the one with his hands around my throat.
“I’m good, baby,” I purr, snaking my arms around his neck and pressing my body into his. Figure I might as well play this up so the other assholes know I’m off limits. Especially Bryant, because he’s entertained notions of us in the past. I want zero distractions this week, and holing me up in the middle of the woods with a bunch of violent, horny wannabe gangsters means guaranteed grabby hands and sleazy proposals.
Saint reels me into his arms, slamming his lips on mine in a domineering kiss I feel all the way to the tips of my toes. “She’s ours,” he growls when our lips separate, slicing a look through Bryant.
He didn’t say mine. That’s progress.
Sliding his hand lower on my back, he palms my ass, and I roll my eyes. “Anyone lays a finger on Lo, we’ll put a bullet in your skull.” He glares over my shoulder in a pointed direction. “That especially applies to you.”
“You find this shit attractive?” Bryant asks, blatantly ignoring Saint.
I twist around in Saint’s arms, arching a brow. “What girl wouldn’t?”
“A sane one?” some stupid guy with messy strawberry-blond hair says. Saint takes a step toward him, and hostility rains down on him from above. I don’t need to look up to know the guys are shooting daggers at him. A burst of warmth spreads across my chest, and I can’t deny how good it feels to have backup after so long going it alone.
“It’s time to move,” Instructor Corr says, saving the initiate from a Saint-style throat punch.
“We need to talk,” Saint says, releasing me. “Don’t wander off after the maze.” He lifts his head up, piercing Bry with a look. “You too, asswipe.”
“Fuck off. I’m not answerable to you.”
“Like hell you’re not.” Saint takes a step toward him, but I push him back, cautioning him with my eyes. I’ll handle Bry, I silently convey. A muscle ticks in Saint’s jaw before he lowers his mouth to mine, pecking my lips as he eyeballs Bry with a dark glare.
“You’re interfering with our schedules,” Corr says to Saint. “I’ll mark that on my report.”
Saint scoffs. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”
“Go.” I nudge Saint back. “I’ll meet you afterward at the maze.”
I feel Saint’s eyes glued to my back as we follow Corr through the entrance and into the assault course.
My eyes scan the ground in front of me. There are a couple low walls at the start, then a rope wall, and a high wall beyond that, but that’s as far as I can see. I purposely don’t look up at the guys, even though I know they are there, because I can’t afford to lose focus.
I cast a sneaky glance at the competition. The four guys in my group are strong and tall, but my smaller weight and height should work to my advantage with some of the obstacles.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Instructor Corr whispering in one of the initiate’s ears—the same guy who mouthed off back there. As Corr’s mouth works overtime, he shoots daggers in my direction. I hadn’t intended to make enemies here, but it’s obvious I’m not wanted, and I doubt if I keep silent and act like a Goody Two-Shoes that the outcome will be any different.
Being female is the biggest obstacle I must overcome this week.
The instructor blows a whistle. “Line up. On my count.”
I block out everything around me, pressing one foot forward and stretching my other foot out behind me, poised and ready.
Corr counts, and when he gets to three, I bolt forward, jumping over the low walls with ease. Pounding feet keep pace with me, and while I need to keep aware of the other initiates, I won’t let myself get distracted by their progress because that dilutes my focus. So, I keep my eyes ahead and concentrate on the tasks as they arise.
I climb the rope wall with skill, but the high wall proves more challenging because I have to stretch to reach the markers. When I pull myself over, Bry and the guy with the strawberry-blond hair, the one Corr was whispering to, are already on the ground and moving toward the row of tunnels.
Taking a risk, I jump down the bottom half of the wall instead of climbing down it, grateful when I land firmly on the ground. I scramble to the tunnel, entering mine a few seconds after the guys have entered theirs, crawling through it, using my elbows and my knees to propel me forward. I emerge like a bullet from a gun, adrenaline charging through my veins as I plunge headfirst into cold, muddy, brown water.