Raising my hands to the back of my head, I take in huge lungfuls of air.
Fuck, I feel like I’m dying.
Looking at the backs of Chase and Dale as they start to walk away, I feel that doubt they have in me. I feel the mistrust they have for my words. They think I’ll fucking fall, and they’d be right if I didn’t also see Casey kicking the heavy bag with all hi
s heart.
I’d fucking fall down if it wasn’t for him and Bree.
Casting a glance at Bree, I spot her looking at me with worry, like she’s afraid I’ll keel over at any minute.
Not going to happen. I have to make sure I put my body through hell now so that when I finally get those legs of hers around my waist, I ruin any chance of her finding any other man worthy.
She’s fucking mine, that kiss sealed the deal. I’m not sure if she knows it yet, but she will. Hopefully she’s good with the readymade family that’s coming her way.
Casey and me are a package deal.
Doesn’t matter if it’s before I fight Jamey or after, I’m also going to get that little bitch that tried to hurt her. He’ll be fucking lucky if I don’t put him in the ground.
“Did I say you were finished?” Dale turns back to face me. “Get on the fucking heavy bags. One hundred strikes from each arm and foot.”
Well, shit. This is going to be a long fucking day.
But with Bree in my sights, nothing’s going to stop me.
Chapter Ten
Bree
When my head finally hit the pillow last night, I had the foolish hope that when I woke up everything would be better in the light of morning. That I’d somehow be able to fix everything if I got some rest and could think clearly.
After all, they say sleeping on a problem is the best way to solve it.
Unfortunately, when I woke up and remembered everything that happened, I still had no answers.
If anything, with all my problems crammed together, they loom even larger.
Tristan, my father…
Emmett.
Together, they’re a mountain I’m afraid I don’t have the strength or stamina to scale without plummeting to my destruction.
But I know if I don’t even try, I’ll be left here, dangling, on the constant brink of slipping, of losing my grip and falling...
At least that’s what it feels like at the moment.
Especially as I stare at Emmett. Stare and watch as he pushes his body to the breaking point.
I’ve managed to avoid him all morning. Managed to avoid all the sharp, questioning looks he was throwing my way. But now that I’m stuck at the front desk on door duty, there’s no pretending what happened last night didn’t happen.
There’s no pretending as his eyes lock on mine, burning with a promise that we’re not finished yet.
I don’t know if the guys are purposely trying to humiliate him or make a spectacle, but they’ve got him set up front and center in the gym as they hurl challenge after challenge at him.
I try in vain to look away, to not watch, to focus on something else. I shift in my chair, pick at my nails, and check my email.
I even log into Facebook.