The Heir (Gentlemen Rogues 1)

ChapterOne

Saffron

I duckeda wild swing and then kicked my foot out, hitting my target center mass.

Next to me on the training mats, my best mate and teammate for this exercise, Tabatha Smith, panted happily as she clotheslined her sparring partner.

When he went down like a sack of potatoes, hacking, coughing, and clutching his throat, she grinned at me.

I couldn't help but laugh.Unfortunately, in the second that I took my eyes off my target, I caught a fist straight to the sternum.

People always said that they got the wind knocked out of them, but this was a whole other kind of thing. Not only was the wind knocked out of me, my sparring partner was six-foot-five, 250 pounds. And he had not pulled his punch.

I got my soul and my sass knocked out of me.

I had, of course, been trained on what to do when you had no air and you still had to fight for your life.

I whipped my leg out and caught him behind the knee, pitching him forward. He fell down, and I quickly rolled on top of him as I took a large breath. Then I delivered a hammer fist right to the center of his chest, making him cough.

Somewhere in the distance a whistle blew, and I immediately sprang up to my feet, making a point to pretend like I wasn't breathing hard. But dear God, I didn't think I'd ever breathe deeply again.

Tabatha smirked at me. "You know you're going to get docked for control, right?"

I glowered at the trainee still laying on his back and smirked. "It was worth it." I leaned over him, smiling softly. "Trainee, control, remember?"

He grumbled from where he lay, still coughing. "Sorry."

He nodded, as if accepting the reprimand. But in his eyes I could see the challenge, the desire to put me back in my place, and I knew he’d be a problem as an op who needed to follow orders in the field. Not that he couldn't be an op, but teamwork was going to be an issue for him.

The trainees were given their marks for the day, and they all shuffled and filed out toward the locker rooms. Tabatha threw her arm over my shoulder. "Okay, now that work is done for the day, please, can we go celebrate your damn birthday?"

I wrinkled my nose. "My birthday isn’t until tomorrow."

"Oh, come on. You know I'm off for three days straight. If we don't celebrate until tomorrow, I'll have wasted a night of freedom. And if we celebrate tonight, you and I can still get out of here and go to the city for the weekend."

"You know full well I can't go anywhere."

She frowned. "Sir Gabe won't let you out of the tower, huh?"

I groaned. Gabriel Webb was our commander. He was also my adopted brother and in charge of my schedule. Basically, he was in charge of me because of how things had landed over the last two years.

"Come on, it's your birthday. Even Gabe can't keep you from that."

He could. He would, too.

"It doesn't matter how mad he is, okay? I just don't want to do anything wild or crazy." Despite being so close, Tabatha and I were exact opposites. She loved the energy of a loud, bustling club. I did not. I always felt out of place. Like it was too loud. Too hard to see.

She sighed and planted her hands on my shoulders. Tabs was several inches shorter than me, but she was built. Completely stacked in all the areas I was not. Tabatha had curves that basically screamed, Look at me. Watch me.

I was more gently curved. Athletic. Tall. Not quite willowy, but never would my curves say, Va-va-va-voom.

Tabs just laughed. "Come on. You have to have a birthday celebration. It's important to celebrate these things even if you're sad."

Just the mention of it made my nose tingle. "I know. It's important.” After all, hadn't the therapist said the same thing? She’d said it was time to start living my life again.

Easier said than done, but I had to try.

Tabs gave me a soft smile. “No one said you have to become a socialite. I’m just saying a night of dancing with your bestie might make you smile a little.”