Chapter 32
chapter
thirty-two
The guy across from me should probably be on a stretcher.
I slam my fist into his jaw anyway, imagining someone else’s face as his shredded, bruised mug swells bigger every minute.
I don’t care. I land a kick to his ribs and sweep his legs. It will be easier to pummel the absolute shit out of him if he’s on his back.
Is it fair to use some other fighter at my gym as a stand-in for the dickheads who scared my omega so much that she nearly passed out in that godforsaken store?
Better question :
Who gives a fuck about fair?
Nothing else is. It sure as shit hasn’t been for my girl.
So this won’t be, either.
“Avery.”
I hear him. But fuck him.
My opponent—if you even want to call him that—has his hands up over his face, shouting some bullshit about yielding. I don’t fucking care. I rattle his shit harder, both of my aching fists flying.
“ Avery .”
My name echoes through the cage, louder this time. Pissed.
But I’ve always liked pissing people off. Anger is an emotion I understand. When someone wants to kick my ass, I actually feel like I understand them for a few minutes.
The only exception is Serena.
All she has to do is look at me, and I know she sees everything.
When I peer down at this guy’s hamburger face, it occurs to me that maybe that isn’t such a good thing.
What would she think if she saw me savaging this random dude? Would she be afraid, the way she was today?
Or that first night with?—
Tristan’s bark slices through the gym like a cleaver. “ Avery. That is enough .”
With a growl, I shove off my latest victim. There are three more limping around on the sidelines somewhere.
Damn . I’ve been at this for a while. I’ll probably get a fine.
Again.
Ripping at the tape around my hands with my teeth, I snarl at the only asshole wearing a three-piece suit in this shithole. “The fuck are you doing here?”
Tristan has mastered glaring without frowning. His mouth stays straight, but his eyes rage . “Jonah told me you stormed off after Serena got upset.”
I scoff as I climb out of the ring. “Oh, now you fucking care? She didn’t ‘get upset.’ She had a fucking panic attack because some random assholes walked up and tried to start shit. But you weren’t there, so.”
I slam my bare shoulder into his while I pass him, hoping it hurts. Dropping onto a bench, I bore my eyes into his face, demanding, “Do you even realize what she’s?—”
Survived .
I don’t need to know the details to know she’s a motherfucking survivor.
As much of a fighter as I’ll ever be.
Tristan’s voice drops, low and urgent. “I’m trying to do the right thing, Avery. I know I have to do more, but she’s afraid of me. I don’t want to force my presence on her. Or make her feel obligated to accept me.”
I fix him with my harshest glare. “And ignoring her is your big solution? You think that’s going to help?”
He blows air out of his nose and looks back at me, ignoring the blood soaking into my towel as I wipe at my cheeks.
“I don’t know her very well. Clearly.” He clenches his jaw, the muscles ticking in a way that always reminds me of Spencer. “Can you tell me anything about her?”
A harsh laugh scrapes out of me. “You came to me for help ? Jesus Christ, this really is a new low.”
But Tristan stares back at me, steady. Waiting. Truly asking for help, which is mind-blowing on so many levels, I can’t process it properly with adrenaline still pounding through my ears.
Maybe that’s why I answer the prick.
“When we ride in the car, she looks out the window like she’s soaking up every blade of grass we pass,” I blurt.
It’s a pretty stupid observation, but Tristan nods solemnly, like I’ve just started rattling off nuclear codes or something. When he keeps looking at me, I scrape out more.
“She isn’t sleeping at night. I don’t know if it’s what happened or being in our house or being alone, but she spends most of her days napping in my bed and she seems to like that.
“She doesn’t mind when I draw on her, and she smiles at Jonah’s jokes. Spencer scares her a little, but he’s a scary motherfucker. Plus, he looks like you.”
Tristan winces slightly. “Fair. What else?”
I scrub my bloody towel through my hair and over the back of my neck, mopping up sweat. “She loves junk food, especially anything smothered in cheese. She wears little outfits, even when we’re just hanging out at home. I think she likes to look put-together. We got her makeup and shit, but I bet she’d actually like shopping somewhere nice instead of that big-box bullshit we did today.”
Tristan hums in agreement. “Noted. Anything else?”
I ignore the lump in my throat, grunting, “Yeah. Her touch starvation is bad . Jonah spends half of every day with his arms around her because she told him no one else had ever hugged her. Like, in her life.”
The color leeches out of our pack leader’s face, which perversely satisfies me. He deserves to feel like a dick.
I go on, “In bed, she’s always shocked as hell whenever I do anything for her. I still don’t know what she did during her heats, but I’m pretty sure no one took care of her. Spencer thinks because her perfume is so fucking good, there probably weren’t any alphas who could handle it without biting her.”
I look him dead in the eye when I say that last part. To his credit, he takes it like a man, gritting his teeth but not dropping my eyes. “Did she say when her last heat was?”
Shaking my head, I squirt some water into my mouth. “Didn’t ask. Isn’t that, like, rude?”
There are some moments when Tristan really does feel like a big brother. As his mouth quirks up in fond amusement, I feel young. He tilts his head slightly. “Not for the men having sex with her, no.”
“Well, so far, that’s just me,” I snap back. “And it’s going to stay that way until she decides she wants to climb someone else’s knot. Or I’ll be kicking all your asses.”
Tristan takes the hit again. I have to give him credit for that, at least—he doesn’t have a big ego. When he fucks something up, he’ll take all the shit I can pile on him. And he never tries to defend himself.
It’s still blowing my mind that he did this.
His face hardens back into an unreadable mask. “Jonah also told me that you waited until they got Serena into the car, and then you bolted.” He glances at the guy laid out in the ring behind me. “I assume you were trying to control your temper so you didn’t scare her?”
He’s right, and I hate that. “We were only two miles from the gym, so I ran here,” I mutter, hanging my head and pressing my forearms to my thighs. “She’s been through enough shit. She was already upset. I didn’t want to make a scene by unleashing my Alpha in that place.”
Tristan’s hand lands on my shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, but I hear it anyway. Good job, kid.
“Jonah called me. He said she’s been hiding in her room, but when he brought her dinner, she asked if we could all talk. She wants to explain what happened today.”
I ignore the pang of relief that strikes my gullet, shoving to my feet. “You gonna give me a ride home, then?”
He almost smirks. “Maybe I should make you walk.”
“Fuck you,” I chirp, tossing my shit into my duffle and strapping it across my back. My gaze catches on the Octagon, and I roll my eyes.
“Hold on.”
Tristan watches while I jog over and kick the guy lightly until he groans, lolling his head to try to look at me. “Sorry, man,” I shrug. “Better luck next time, eh?”
By the time I’m back by his side, Tris looks like he just witnessed the parting of the Red Sea. I trudge past him, shrugging. “Serena would have wanted me to.”