Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

He pulled off his punch mitts and tossed them on the floor against the wall mirror.

“Shit, woman, you’ve got some power,” he said as he grabbed her shoulders and massaged the aching muscles. “You got any fights on the horizon?”

For a second, Izzy froze. Jig’s large, warm hands were on her. For the first time. Electricity seemed to travel from his fingers throughout her entire body, waking the muscles that had just been fatigued. She shook her head as she yanked one of the gloves off with her teeth. “Nothing anytime soon. Not too many women looking for an underground fight. I’ve fought a few men, but I’m very selective and won’t get in the ring with a dude if I haven’t seen him in action before.” Using her now free hand, she wiggled the other boxing glove off and tossed them on top of Jig’s mitts.

Jig frowned. “You shouldn’t be fighting men. Don’t be stupid.”

Over the past two weeks, she’d met with Jig and Zach five nights a week at the gym. Zach kept the place open well past closing just for them. Most of the time, it seemed they were making progress toward some kind of mutual respect, if not tentative friendship. When they were working balls-out, Jig forgot to be a standoffish, macho asshole. Hell, he even complimented her on occasion, like telling her she was a powerhouse.

But then reality would set back in, and he’d say something dickish like the garbage he’d just spewed. Two steps forward, one step back. Still, progress overall.

“You don’t think it’s possible for a woman to fight a man? Well, bubba, it’s possible. I’ve done it. And I’ve won. All four times.” Let him chew on that for a while.

After releasing her shoulders, he bent and scooped up her water bottle. “I’m not saying you can’t beat a man, just that you shouldn’t,” Jig said as he underhanded the bottle in her direction.

She caught it with one hand and took a long drink of the cool liquid. “Why the hell not?” she asked once her mouth wasn’t full of the thirst-quenching water.

“I already told you. It’s stupid.”

“Oh, it’s stupid.” She rolled her eyes and jammed her free hand on her hip, not blind to the way his gaze tracked the motion. The guy may not be thrilled with her, but he sure had an appreciation for her ass. Those haunted eyes of his drifted to her booty every chance they got. So sue her if she made sure to wear the shorts that gave her a little extra oomph. A girl needed an ego boost every now and again, and nothing did it quite like knowing you had power over a man. “Now I totally get it. Thanks for that eloquent explanation. Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of genius or something?”

One side of his mouth quirked. “You asking around about me?”

Seriously? He was going to go and get all cocky? “Sorry to disappoint you, bubba, but no. People just talk. And don’t try to change the subject. I wanna hear why you think a woman shouldn’t fight a man.”

He ran a hand through his damp hair and pulled at the strands like she was frustrating the hell out of him. Oh, yeah? Too bad. He was the frustrating one. “Of course, you’re gonna win against a man in the ring. They’ll hold back. The instinct to avoid hurting a woman is strong.”

Throwing her hands up in the air, Izzy walked in a circle then stopped right in front of him. “Seriously?” she asked, getting right up in his face. “Maybe you should give that bullshit speech to all the women in shelters, running from abusive assholes.”

“That’s not what I me—”

“Okay, okay, fighters to your corners,” Zach said as he strode out of the locker room. “You two about done with the foreplay here? I got a woman waiting at home naked, if I know her.” He winked. “And trust me, I know her.”

“Yeah, just gotta grab my shit,” Jig said. With a narrowed-eyed nod for Izzy, he stalked off to the locker room.

“Ugh,” Izzy said as she gathered her things and shoved them in her duffle. “That man is infuriating.”

Crossing his arms, Zach propped his bulging shoulder against the mirror. “That man is changing. And I think we all have you to thank for it.”

Bent over, Izzy peered up at him. “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything. Unless you count pushing his buttons and arguing with ninety percent of what comes out of his mouth.”

Before he spoke, Zach shot a quick glance toward the locker room. “Listen, babe, Jig’s been through shit you can’t even imagine. The kind of shit that would send most people to a padded room. And I say that only knowing the surface details.” Zach shook his head, and Izzy couldn’t help wondering what skeletons hid in Jig’s closet.