Thank God the gym used by Malcolm’s employees is empty and no one is allowed inside until I give the okay. All cameras are off and the lights are dimmed, leaving just enough brightness where we can see the other move. No one sees her like this but me.
“I’m going to make you pay for that,” I hiss, ducking her next punch and tapping her right thigh when she stumbles a bit, losing her footing while chasing me. “Think you can handle me?”
“Bring it, pretty boy.”
“Noted.” Holding a hand up, I take the mitts off and toss them aside along with my shirt a few seconds after. She wants to play, then so be it. “You can throw a decent punch, princess, but can you dodge them?”
Something about what I said doesn’t sit right with her. Darkness overtakes her features, hate and ire her stance.
She’s stiff, chest heaving in a way that worries me. “Never call me that again, Lucas.”
“What that, princess?” Her reaction is the same: anger. A sudden blinding rage that makes me pause. I’m not going to call her out, not now, but I’ll push because whatever just overcame her mind is dangerous.
Mistakes cost lives. And it’s unacceptable that anything should happen to this woman.
“Don’t.” It’s a hiss. A warning. Nodding, I slip off my sneakers and tuck the strings of my joggers inside the waistband, taking away anything that could get caught in the fight she’s bringing my way. Her chest heaves, eyes bore into mine, but Mariah isn’t seeing me.
I still don’t have the full story of her history with Lane, but something tells me this has to do with him or her parents—their role and involvement with him is what’s setting her off. I’m also wondering if she’s ever truly dealt with her anger toward the assholes.
“Or what?” At my response, her nostrils flare and eyes narrow. “Something you want to say?”
“Quit it, Javi. This isn’t a box you want to open.”
“I’m not afraid, Muñeca.” I circle her, knocking her left hand from her hip on purpose. “You want to vent, do it. You want to strike, do it.”
“Back off.” Two words spit out through clenched teeth.
“Get it off your chest.” Rather now than during a dangerous situation. Mildred, in my eyes, is a threat, a weak one, but stupid people cannot be discounted. They’re careless. Ballsy. “Why do you hate the word—”
“Fuck you.” And she reacts without thinking, charging me with all her strength and I let her, taking the brunt of our fall and cradling her close. Mariah’s angry, eyes a bit red-rimmed while landing an elbow across my chin, knocking my face to the side. “Never call me what those pieces of shit did. Not you. Never you.”
“Why?” Before she can land another blow, I have her hand in mine and roll her off me. She’s on her back when I stand, eyes following me, and I wave her up. “Again. Don’t let your emotions rule you.”
“Maybe we should stop for today.”
“Get up. Don’t make me be an asshole this early.”
“Why do you care?” The ire from a few minutes ago has cleared a bit but still lingers.
“Because I’d rather you get pissed at me than make a costly mistake out there.” Her features soften at that, and I nudge her shin with the tip of my sock-covered foot. “Now, get up or I’ll mount you.” Cheeks flushing a bit, she does as I ask and gets into a fighter’s stance, leaning most of her weight on the right leg. Another mistake. You don’t favor one side more than the other, and I sweep Mariah’s feet out from under her.
“What the hell?” She lands with a thud, but there’s a hint of a smile on those sweet lips.
“No one outside these walls will grant you mercy, baby.” I take two steps back and crook a finger. “Up.”
“You’re going to pay for that, Javi.” And there’s my girl. Focusing on me. On what’s important. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Mariah brings her two hands up to block my attack while balancing her core, feet planted firmly on the ground. Much better.
But there’s still an opening on her left and I strike toward her thigh, not giving her the full force of my blow but enough to cause her to stumble back. She catches herself, arms never lowering and when I go for the right rib area, she counters and lands her punch.
My stomach contracts, but I keep a proud smile on my lips. “Think you can knock me down?”
“Bet you two hundred bucks I can.”
“I won’t go easy on you.”
“I’d be pissed if you did.” This time when she charges, Mariah changes position at the last second and kicks the back of my knee. My weight drops, but before she can get me down I return the favor, chuckling as her leg buckles.
“That was good, but not enough.”
“You’re a jerk.”
Before she can continue to berate me, I tackle the brat and cover her body with mine. “Never claimed to be anything but an asshole, sweetness.”
“That’s what you want others to think, Javi, but I see you.” Those words pause me, and she takes the distraction as her opening, flipping our position with a hard buck of her hips, turning us so I’m on my back and looking up. I’m left marveling at the cheeky grin and the bright eyes of this incredible woman. “No one else has bothered to make me talk about shit I hate. No one else pushes me to deal with what I feel when ignorance is an easier solution.”
“Muñeca, I—”
“I know you pay attention. I know you care.” Mariah lowers her face to mine and kisses the tip of my nose, then each cheek before pecking my lips. “You’re so much more than what I thought, Javier. Thank you.”
Bringing a hand up, I cup the back of her neck, keeping her lips hovering over mine. “For what?”
“For doing more for me than those who were supposed to love me. Those who called me princess,” she spits the word out with so much venom and tears in her eyes. This is her letting me fully in. A beautiful olive branch. “That was Dad’s nickname for me growing up, and Lane adopted it. It wasn’t meant to be loving, more demeaning as he thinks all women are beneath the men in their lives.”
“I’m not them.”
“I know.” Another soft smile. A sweet sigh. “You have the possibility to be my everything, and that scares me.”
“I’d never hurt you.”
“And I don’t think I’d recover if you ever did.”
17
“WHAT TIME ARE you getting off?” Javi asks, pulling into the Asher building parking structure a few minutes before two in the afternoon. I’m in the passenger seat and fighting back a giggle, keeping my face neutral after the semi-argument we had outside of the women’s shower where he all but demanded to drive us in today. An exchange I lost after the jerk jutted his bottom lip out while sweaty, chest glistening and those damn joggers hanging low.
I could make out the outline of his thick cock, and it made getting my point across a near impossibility. Couldn’t think straight when he twitched and grew, and I had to yell out a yes before disappearing inside to take a cold shower.