Chapter 14 #2
I wander over to the edge and stare down at her, then squat to put myself more to her level. “If you think I need to work on my stamina so bad, why don’t you come in here and show me what you’ve got?”
Her brow rises slowly. “You want to spar with me?”
Atlas chuckles behind me. “Boy, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
It’s meant as a warning.
To anyone else, it might have been one.
For me, it just sounds like a challenge.
I grin, never looking away from her. “Oh, I definitely do.”
* * *
BISHOP
I must be fucking nuts.
It’s the only reason I would be standing in the ring in my gear, facing down the most dangerous man I know—excluding Satriano.
And it isn’t Atlas.
It’s the one who got me to do things I never thought I would, to give up the one thing I so desperately need in my life all the time. It’s the man I haven’t been able to look in the eyes since then because he saw too much.
He knows too much.
From the first moment we met, I could sense it—his ability to read people. And he had me figured out from day one.
Now, he bounces on his feet, slamming his gloves together and cracking his neck side to side as if he’s preparing for a title fight and not just a little friendly sparring.
Because we both know that’s not what this is.
Not by a longshot.
He has a lot to say that I don’t want to hear. I’ve heard it enough in my own head over the last several days since I left his place.
It’s been so insistent that I’ve almost welcomed the distraction Satriano coming back provided. The excuse to avoid this man and the way he pushes me.
Atlas watches from outside the ring, a grin on his face before either of us have even thrown a punch. Whatever he suspects—and he clearly suspects something—he also knows there’s more to this showdown than we’re letting on.
Gage wants to prove a point.
I just want to punch him in the face to wipe away that smug smirk he always wears.
And I’m not waiting around for him to make the first move.
I step forward and swing a hard right hook. His eyes widen, but he somehow manages to duck out of the way so the blow only glances off his shoulder rather than hitting him square in the jaw.
It was close.
So damn close.
I almost had him.
And that fucker grins.
He grins at me as he lays down a barrage of punches that send me retreating into the ropes. They catch my retreat, but I push off them, shoving my hands against his chest, forcing him back with as much strength as I can muster. But he barely budges.
Because Gage is like a goddamn immovable object.
Especially when it comes to this—to us—because he wants there to be something there and doesn’t seem content to walk away with just having had one decent night together.
Who the fuck are you kidding, Bishop?
It was more than decent.
My pussy throbs at the memory, and it is absolutely the worst time to be thinking about it because that nanosecond of distraction is enough for him to jab me in the ribs.
I wince at the impact, but I know it could’ve been much worse.
He’s holding back, just like Atlas does when we spar, because he has a foot and at least fifty pounds on me. Because we’re not even remotely in the same class. But what Gage has in size and strength, I make up for in speed.
Plus, the fact that he’s holding back only makes me want to fight harder.
I push with combinations that would send most fighters to the mat quickly, but he blocks and ducks and weaves fluidly, dodging my strikes the same way I have been him for days.
This is payback for that.
It certainly seems like it is.
And it starts to feel futile.
I push and push, charging and constantly on the offensive, and he looks like he’s barely breathing hard keeping me at bay. Regrouping, I fake a left jab and manage to slip my right arm around to punch him in the exact same spot where Atlas landed the blow earlier.
That does the trick.
He releases a little oomph noise and backs off with a grimace that only fuels me to move harder and faster. It might be the only opening I get with him to make my point.
I step forward with a combination and feet so fast that he doesn’t have time to regain his, and it sends him sprawling out on his back on the canvas.
He stares up at me with wide blue eyes, as if he didn’t expect me to take advantage of his misstep, but then I see it there…
The corner of his mouth twitching with his suppressed grin.
Because he gave that to me.
It wasn’t a mistake at all.
It was intentional.
“You motherfucker.”
I mumble the words around my mouthguard, and I don’t know if he can make them out or not as he climbs to his feet and circles around me like a goddamn lion on the Serengeti stalking his prey.
He throws a couple light jabs, testing out the distance, watching to see what I’m going to do, waiting for me to act, to move again, because he’s letting me lead.
Because he knows I want to be in control of every situation, including this one.
I want to control the fight. Force him to make mistakes instead of him intentionally making them to give me some false sense of victory.
Gage did it to rile me up.
Because he loves the push back.
He craves it as much as I love giving it to him.
I motion with my gloves for him to come at me, and his eyes flare with a heat I remember from the other night, one that sends molten lava flowing through my veins.
And I charge.
My flash of punches combined with my duck and weave, the way I circle him, all keep him on his toes. Keep him on the defensive. And even though his reach is far greater than mine, I manage to avoid almost every one of his blows.
A few glance off me, but most barely touch me.
“Is that all you’ve got?”
He definitely heard that one, because he comes again, so hard and so fast that I finally see what he’s really capable of. I can see why that had him fighting in the WCAP.
Shit.
Gage pins me into the corner and spits out his mouthguard, apparently not caring that his perfect teeth or pretty smile might get bashed in.
He dips his head next to mine, low, where Atlas is sure not to hear whatever he says. “I like battling with you, Hellcat, though I’d much rather do it in the bedroom.”
The truth is…so would I.
And that pisses me the fuck off.
I raise my knee and jam it straight between his legs.
He barks out a cough and stumbles back slightly. His cup may have protected him from being unable to father children, but it definitely hurt. And given the whistle that Atlas releases from between his teeth, it clearly signals the end of the fight, too.
Atlas slides under the ropes and approaches, his tattooed chest still slick with a sheen of sweat from their match and a wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. “That might be the most entertaining thing I’ve seen in years.”
Gage continues to stay partially doubled over, his breathing hard, eyes narrowed on me.
I spit out my mouthguard. “I won.”
Atlas chuckles. “It doesn’t count. You cheated.”
“We didn’t establish any ground rules for this match.”
It’s a bullshit argument on my part. Hitting in the groin, especially intentionally, is never permitted.
He looks to Gage, who straightens and finally approaches us slowly, shaking out his leg as if that might relieve some of the discomfort my blow just caused.
Gage offers me a partial grin. “Bishop always uses everything at her disposal to gain control of the situation, don’t you?”
I raise a brow at him, daring him to bring our personal business out in front of Atlas and see how I would respond.
He stares at me for a moment, then looks back at Atlas. “I won’t hold it against her that she couldn’t finish me off the old-fashioned way without going for the low blow. Maybe next time.”
It would be impossible to miss the double entendre in his statement.
Gage smirks at me before he holds up his hands for Atlas to help him with his gloves. He never takes his eyes off me as Atlas undoes the Velcro and tugs them off, almost as if he’s waiting for me to blow and is afraid he might miss it if he looks away.
Atlas passes him his gloves, then turns to me and grabs my right hand. He grips the edge of the Velcro and tugs it off. I glance down to watch his progress, and to avoid his scrutiny, afraid if I look him in the eye, he will see all the things that have happened with Gage.
That’s the problem with growing up so close to each other in the Hawke family. Everyone is in everyone else’s business and loves to interject their thoughts and opinions about things that are absolutely not theirs to butt their heads into.
And sleeping with Gage would be something Atlas definitely has opinions about.
Plus, once he knew, so would everyone else. First Wren, then Astrid, and it would spread like wildfire through the Hawke gossip chain until the entire flock was yapping about it and giving me their advice I absolutely do not want.
When I finally chance a glance back up, Gage has slid out of the ring and is walking toward the locker room at the rear of the gym.
Hell.
I shouldn’t follow him.
Nothing good that will come from it.
But I’m still seething in a way I can’t seem to get a grip on, and I hate the way this man makes me feel.
Out of control.
Of my reactions.
My thoughts.
My damn body.
When he’s around, everything is heightened. I’m more aware of all the things I normally push to the back of my mind in favor of focusing on what’s important—protecting the family.
I don’t have the time or energy to deal with him on a daily basis, something I damn sure intend to tell him. Or maybe not, as that would only be conceding the fact that he does have some control over me.
Fuck.
Atlas watches me with a raised brow. “What is up with you two?” He motions between the closing locker room door and me. “Seriously. It’s like thunder and lightning collide every time you are in a room with him.”
I roll my shoulders, shaking out my arms. “Nothing. He just…riles me up sometimes.”
Atlas chuckles. “No shit.”
The door between the gym and the pilates studio opens, and Wren sticks her head in. “Oh, hi, Bishop.” She smiles, and it pulls at the scars on the side of her face. “Babe, can you come help me with something?”
Atlas gives me a long look. “Sure can. For what it’s worth, Bishop, I like the guy.”
So do I.
And that’s the problem ultimately.
I can’t like him.
I can’t enjoy this dynamic we have where he pushes and I push back harder.
I can’t want more of what we had the other night.
I just…can’t.
Atlas slips from the ring and goes to help his fiancée, leaving me alone in the silent gym knowing damn well the man behind all my frustrations is only a door away.