To Catch A Rook (All The Queen’s Men #1)

10. Chapter 7 - Hillary

“ A gain!”

My muscles begged for mercy as I resumed my training in Sammy’s gym, working through the obstacle course he had laid out for me.

Before I could catch my breath, a black-cloaked figure came into my periphery and launched at my torso. They grabbed the hem of my athletic tank and pulled me to them in an aggressive tug, quickly latching large biceps around my shoulders and incapacitating me in a choke hold from b ehind.

Rule one in Krav Maga: stop the threat. I slipped out of the choke hold using the technique an old mentor had taught me and twirled around, my face now at the attacker’s crotch.

Rule two: aggressively counterattack on the most vulnerable areas as quickly as possible. I head-butted them hard and satisfaction rippled through me as my skull cracked against their pelvic bone, likely busting a testicle or two.

My attacker shrieked in agony and dropped to the floor, but grabbed hold of my ponytail on the way down. At the yank, my roots stung from the force as I was pulled to the mat beside him.

I let my body go limp for a single moment before gathering all of my strength. Propelling forward, I wrenched away from his tight grip despite the agonizing tingle across my scalp.

He shifted his weight, crinkling the mat material, then moved off of it, coming after me again. I reached for anything to use within changing my stance. My hand closed on the tacky surface of a ten-pound barbell. I swung it backward with all of my might, risking only a brief glance to see it successfully smash my intended target—the attacker’s ear.

He stumbled and clutched the side of his head. I took the opportunity to run to the other side of the gym, following the next rule: disengage from the situation. Once successfully out of his path, I searched my surroundings, looking outwards to fulfill the last rule: scan for the next threat.

Despite common misconceptions, Krav Maga wasn’t about defeating the other attacker, it was about survival. I had taken up the practice when I was twenty years old. Eleven years later, the principles remained the same.

I s ank back against the rough cinder block wall to catch my heaving breath as Taylor, Sammy’s sparring partner, ripped off his padded mask and grinned. A deep crimson stained his satisfied smile.

“Good work, Ojitos ! Take a break.” Sammy’s call hollowly echoed from the opposite end of the building. Taylor nodded in agreement, then pivoted on his heel to grab his water bottle.

My gaze roamed around the gym’s stark interior. Cracked black mats were marred from years of absorbing the brutalities of man. Platforms of varying heights and wrought-iron stairwells mimicked the streetscapes of a city. A few grab bars were scattered randomly throughout the network of pathways.

The gym was mostly used by parkour enthusiasts and street fighting rugrats. Over the last decade, I also made it my personal training facility.

I had found Sammy through a mutual acquaintance; a woman who lost her sister in a dangerous domestic violence dispute. Sammy had helped her train, which had helped her to heal, and when I saw how his guidance transformed her into a methodical machine of fury, I knew I needed a Sammy too.

I wouldn’t settle for a knock-off version—a counterfeit trainer. I hired the man himself. Then, when I had all the pieces in place to avenge the women of our city, I found another use for his black ops training.

Sammy wasn’t just another loyal employee. He was family.

“I like watching you train.”

I snapped out of my post-survival trance at the sound of his voice. The gruff and sultry baritone filled me with a pleasant and familiar sense of calm, before inevitably piercing through me in spikes of irritation.

“ I’d say I enjoy seeing you, but that’s too infrequent to really count.”

Kellan quirked a bushy blond brow at me in muted amusement and folded his arms across the broad expanse of his chest. “This again?”

He was dressed in training clothes. A navy athletic t-shirt molded to his immense form, revealing the shaded masterpiece inked along every patch of exposed skin. His hair was pulled back in a high bun, loose tendrils framing his shadowed cheekbones and highlighting his sharp features.

The beautiful man was physically perfect, but emotionally stunted. I refused to waste any energy chasing after him today.

“You missed a great time while you and your penis were off sulking.” I shrugged a shoulder and pushed past him. Grabbing my water bottle from the floor, I turned my back to him and took a long swig.

Strong notes of bergamot and amber washed over me just before his powerful form wrapped around me from behind. His body heat radiated into the drying sweat on my skin. Solid forearms crossed my chest and pressed in on me with enough force to keep me molded to his body.

Bristles of his beard brushed over the shell of my ear while he slid one arm slowly down the front of my chest, his fingers languidly moving downward until they gently traced along the band of my leggings.

“My penis can let off steam elsewhere. But no one can match that smart mouth.”

As his tongue traced the outline of my earlobe, for one second I allowed myself to enjoy his touch; to enjoy the way only he could take me hostage and pull me apart. I relaxed into him as his lips traveled further down the column of my neck. He nipped at every spot he knew would make me putty in his hands.

He shifted his weight just the barest amount, enough to bite at my shoulder. I seized the opportunity to drop, twist, and headbutt him right into his sizable ball sac.

“Ummmff.” Kellan’s pained grunt reverberated through my skull, but I wasn’t quick enough to roll to the side. Large hands wrapped around my ponytail. However, instead of an angry pull to cause me pain like Taylor, Kellan lifted me firmly upward in an almost gentle motion until I was standing before him.

His stormy face broke into a brilliant grin. “Good girl, Killer. Next time, shift your force diagonally as soon as you make contact.”

I wrinkled my brow, confused but pleased by the praise. The mats squeaked beneath my feet as I took a step backwards, placing a healthy amount of distance between the undeniable magnetism that crackled between us.

I didn’t want to acknowledge the heat in his stare, or the growing outline of the bulge beneath his shorts. I changed the subject.

“How long have you known Sammy?”

He wouldn’t have made it through the door without knowing the man well. This was a private session I paid heavily for. Sammy would have gutted anyone who’d forced their way through the doors during my training time.

Shutters closed over the Viking’s deep blue eyes, taking my lead at the shift in conversation.

“Old family friend,” he replied smoothly and picked up a ratty towel from the ground beside him, tossing it at me. I stared at the torn material and flung it back at him, reaching instead for my Egyptian cotton pink one.

He smirked at me knowingly, but I ignored him. I liked nice things and I wouldn’t apologize for that.

An ‘old family friend’ meant the Carlos Cartel had once employed my trainer.

Whe n I had come to Sammy, I didn’t have the same resources or people at my disposal I had now. I had investigated him to the best of my ability and while finding his past checkered with government-sanctioned murders and ties to illegitimate dictatorships, I had discovered no links to Antonio Carlos.

Although, with the ease he chopped off male appendages, I should have assumed he had some experience working for the most renowned criminal organization on this side of the planet.

I had never questioned his loyalty, and this new piece of information didn’t change that. It just … complicated things. I didn’t need more ties to Antonio Carlos in my life.

As if on cue, Sammy stepped out of his office and strode toward us.

“ Hermano !” He slapped a hand on Kellan’s shoulder, even though he only came up to the base of the big man’s chin. “ Como estás ?”

Kellan’s eyes lit up and he greeted Sammy like an old friend; the two continued their conversation in rapid Spanish while I watched warily. Their amiable smiles and relaxed body language suggested a familiarity I wasn’t entirely comfortable with. I wasn’t ready to reconcile Kellan with the deeper, darker part of my life.

I had mastered Spanish by the time I was nine, so following their swapped friendly barbs and inquiries about family members was easy enough. It wasn’t until Kellan mentioned ‘Alejandro Alvarez’ that my interest piqued, my spine tingling. Only Sammy and I had heard the name from the judge’s mouth.

“What do you know about Alvarez?” I interrupted, not missing the significant look the two men shared at my intrusion.

Kellan’s relaxed demeanor immediately shifted into one of comman ding control.

“What do you know about Alvarez?”

He cocked his head in the way arrogant men do when they were used to compliant subordinates carrying out their bidding. His arms folded across his chest once again in a defiant stare-down.

“Not enough,” I admitted. “But if he’s coming into our territory, I need to know more.” I assessed quickly while considering the various scenarios where Kellan could become an ally in my silent war instead of a critical bystander. I didn’t want to work with the man—I couldn’t see any scenario where either of us would make it out of a partnership alive—but I’d be willing to trade information for favors, if that’s what it took.

He leveled a chilly gaze at me. “I’m not helping you carry out your crusade, kitten.”

It was as if he’d read my mind. My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Are you keeping tabs on me, Kellan?”

“No more than you’re keeping tabs on me.” His tone was flippant, filled with the irritation in his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Hillary. If I thought forcing you to stop would work, I would have done it long ago. I’m glad Sammy can keep an eye on you.”

The licking fires of betrayal filled my vision and I turned a furious stare onto my supposed loyal trainer and hired torturer.

“Shall I strip you of your cock too, Sammy? I’ve been studying your technique. I’m sure I could make it as painful as you do.”

Sammy subtly winced and shifted position to shield his pelvis. His stoic expression barely changed, but he held up his rough hands in a surrender gesture.

“Kellan came to me a few years ago, Ojitos, for an entirely different reason. You were training that day, and he said he knew you. I have had nothing to do with his, uh”—he paused, an amused smirk danced along his lips, despite my threat—“surveillance. Alvare z has been causing problems in”—he briefly glanced at Kellan, as if asking permission. The man didn’t move. Then Sammy met my gaze and his expression turned serious. “ Other areas.”

Kellan grunted, but did not move a muscle from his position next to Sammy. The two men held themselves in relaxed postures despite their assessing stares, clearly awaiting my next move.

Wise. Given that I wanted to take off both of their heads, and thanks to Sammy’s training, I had a pretty sound idea of how to do just that.

“Your stalking aside.” I spat out the word before reining in my anger. “If you have more information on Alvarez, I need to hear about it. Is it Alejandro or his sons?”

“No.” The blond barbarian king grew to his full height before me, his stance becoming that of the Colombian Commando, Antonio’s brutal soldier and heir. “Not happening, Hill. I can’t protect you on all fronts on this one. I’ve kept Antonio away from the flesh trade as best I can here. That’s all I can do.”

Fuck this man. We weren’t a couple; we weren’t even lovers . We were occasional fuck buddies. Nothing more. He had no right over my decisions, my whereabouts, or my empire—the legal OR the less-than-legal operations.

I would beg for him to dominate me in the bedroom, but that was where it ended.

I drew in a steady breath before erupting like a volcano. “For the last goddamn time, Kellan, I don’t need your protection. Either help me find him, or fuck off.”

An icy, bitter fury flooded the brooding man’s features. He dipped his head to Sammy, turned on his heel, and stalked off toward the front entrance doors.

“Coward!” I shouted after him. The blood in my veins bubbled over to boiling as he retreated. He didn’t even spare me a g lance. The heavy door slammed back into place and his violent energy dissipated into the stale gym air.

“I will help you find him.” Sammy’s determined tone interrupted my mounting fury. “We will find him, Ojitos. ”

He placed a tentative hand against my back in a rare gesture of comfort. I allowed it as my emotions wrestled within my body.

Kellan would help me take out Alvarez. No, rephrase. I would help him . Evidently, the ballsy man was wreaking havoc in other areas of the criminal underworld, if Kellan was hu nting him down too.

The game was set, the race was on. I just had to get to Alvarez first.