Tilly

Jackson grinned.

Once we were at the apartment, the same routine as yesterday happened. I changed inside the gym changing rooms, and Luca and Jackson went to their own places to do the same.

Both men arrived at the same time. Jackson dressed similar to yesterday, though his sweat pants were a darker grey today and although he was only supposed to be observing, he still turned up, showing off his muscular chest and abs and the tattoos that had my tongue on edge.

I wanted to be sassy and ask if he was trying to put me off, but my mouth dropped when Luca grabbed his tee-shirt by the hem and pulled it over his head. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, which left little to the imagination.

At least Jackson’s sweat pants only showed a hint of what I knew was behind. Luca crossed his arms over his sun kissed chest. There was a thin line of dark hair that ran from his shorts to his chest, and a small smattering covered his pecs. My gaze moved as his biceps flexed, but it was the clearing of a throat that made me aware I was gawking.

Luca was observing me easily and there was something about a man who was quiet, and I didn’t know if it was disconcerting or appealing. Whereas Jackson had a confidence that was loud and obvious, Luca was controlled and handled himself differently.

“Don’t just stand there,” I said casually, turning to the mat. “I need training to kill alphas.”

Luca smiled and Jackson’s head tilted back as he roared with laughter.

“Let’s train our little omega,” Luca said, breaking his cool composure as he grinned, showing his straight white smile, his chocolate eyes darkened but sparkled, but it was his boyish dimples that made me go weak at the knees and caused heat to pool between my thighs. Making me realise there was no point in pretending any more that I wasn’t an omega, but the suppressants were staying. If my body reacted to a smile, I was not taking any chances.

“Okay, my large alpha boss, let’s train. What’s first?”

“First, outside of work you don’t call me boss,” Luca said, hurtling towards me. I stepped to one side and held my hands up. “Next move.”

“She’s fast. Speed isn’t her problem. She lacks stamina and strength, but I expect she’ll be fast with a knife,” Jackson said, leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other.

“Okay, a bit of boxing and weight training,” Luca said. “Strengthen the muscles, light weights, lots of reps.”

“No, I just need help to conceal and use a weapon.”

Jackson burst out laughing. “You sound like you’re planning on becoming a serial killer.”

I waggled my eyebrows at him. “You never know who you’ll meet in a nightclub bathroom.”

He waggled his eyebrows back at me. “Or the size of his weapon.”

I laughed as I punched against the boxing bag. Rubbed my palm over my knuckles, I never realised how much hurt.

“Again,” Luca barked.

I punched the back over and over, until I could no longer, and turned to Luca, and he nodded, silently telling me to go again. I spun to Jackson, my eyes begging for him to make it stop. He shook his head. I held my fist and pounded again.

“I can’t,” I whispered, staring at Jackson. His pale blue eyes took in my every strike of the leather, sand filled bag.

“A little longer,” Jackson said.

But every muscle in my body was crying out for a break. This was much harder than I ever imagined it to be. “I’m never going to be quick enough to use a knife after this,” I grumbled. “Maybe I should buy a gun.”

Luca grinned. “A beta would have no problem with this. But your lack of muscle and your omega hormones.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I interrupted. They wouldn’t beat me. “Let’s go again.”

Luca laughed. “No pampering, omega. Time to get serious.”

I whined. It was small, and my stupid mouth annoyed me. I had tried too hard to be all beta-like, and forgot I wasn’t.

“You are much better at this than I expected you to be. Your build doesn’t fit well with boxing, but you have a heart that makes you go on,” Jackson said with a growl to his tone as he paced up and down.

I spun to him and smiled. The praise, his alpha growl, was just the bit of encouragement I needed and I continued getting better and better. I never complained again, but felt every single burn in my muscles.

Each pound of the bag as I thought of that night, the men in the balaclavas that didn’t have the guts to show their faces. I was beating them now with my fists, but when really all I wanted to do was gut each one of them with a long knife.

One by one—I would do it.

One by one—I would see the life strip out of them.

One by one—I would succeed.

Once I found out where my mother and sister were.