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Authors: Kathryn Thomas

BOOK: Fierce
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Rose hadn’t met all the gym’s staff yet. One, Rory O’Dell, the resident physio or “cutman”, was still on vacation in Hawaii for another two weeks. Then there were the two step-in coaches, Saul and Benny, who helped out part-time if and when required, an arrangement they also had with another gym in a neighboring town. Both were possibilities, but Luca seemed to want Wright Hook’s other permanent coach, an ex-fighter by the name of Manuel Etcheverria. He’d suffered a severely sprained ankle a couple of weeks back and wasn’t allowed near the gym till it was fully healed—his old lady’s orders. Luca didn’t think Mrs. E would mind if Manny took a trip to Reno, but so far he hadn’t been able to contact them. He’d try again later.

 

In the meantime, Rose had to book the hotel rooms—including one for the as-yet-unspecified chaperon—organize the flights, file Marlon’s official licensing and medical insurance paperwork, and various other bits and pieces Luca had left blank on the spreadsheet. When she’d finished, leaving only a couple of bits she wasn’t entirely sure of—she’d ask Luca when he got in—she took a walk around the gym to see what everyone was up to.

 

Several more members had arrived while she’d been plugged into the administrative side of things, including two faces she didn’t recognize. They weren’t much more than boys, 17, 19 at most, but that didn’t stop them from being the first guys in Wright Hook’s to hit on her.

 

To be fair, she half-expected it when she spied them checking her out from over near the treadmills, exchanging juvenile gestures of approval and flashing their bare arms, the way all insecure guys did when trying to impress. The blonde dude was cute. He had a laid-back, bronzed surfer thing going, and she liked his earring and his stubble. His friend looked like a typical rich douchebag, all designer duds and gym bag, while his watch was worth more than all her possessions combined.

 

“Marlon, is it?” She offered her fist to pretty much the only non-Wright guy who’d been nice to her last week. He ducked out of his speed ball routine and gave the bag an almighty whack. He bumped her fist with his glove. A flash of recognition seemed to make him gape, but he shook it off, as if he thought he must be seeing things. “Hey, I’m Rose,” she said.

 

“Yeah, that Ross dude’s sister, right? What’s up with him?”

 

“His friend offered him a job in Sacramento, so he put me in touch with Luca and Avery, said I’d be at home here.”

 

“Surrounded by dudes that smack the snot out of each other all day? And you’re at home here?” He wiped his brow-sweat onto his glove. “My kinda woman. You should talk to my wife; she hates coming down here, even to pick my lazy ass up.”

 

Rose laughed. “Girl just needs a clothes pin on her nose. But hey, speaking of being picked up, I’ve pretty much got your Reno trip finalized. Just a couple of things I need to go over with you. Before you leave, come over to the office and we’ll sort them out. Okay?”

 

“’S all good. Luca decided who’s coming with us?”

 

“Not yet. He’s still trying to reach Manny.”

 

He bounced his nod from side to side. “Sure, Manny’s a’right, but I’d rather have Avery.”

 

“Yeah, I would too. But we kinda need Avery here while Luca’s away. At least one Wright in the house.”

 

“I can dig that. But there ain’t nobody gonna mess with us if Avery’s there. That dude’s like the Grim Reaper when he gets his game face on.”

 

“Really?” She glanced over to where he was showing someone a takedown move on one of the mats. “He doesn’t seem so bad.”

 

“You’ve only seen his nice side, his coach side. Wait till you get ringside for one of his fights, then you’ll see his Reaper side. Hey, not bad for some song lyrics…”

 

“Okay, I’ll let you get back to your thing,” she said.

 

“Later.”

 

She continued her circuit of the gym, by which time Surf Dude and Douche Boy were ready and waiting. They headed her off ringside, and before they opened their mouths, she wanted to show them
her
Reaper side.

 

“We haven’t met,” said Douche, a nickname she’d keep for him for as long as she worked at Wright Hook’s. “I’m Tony. This is Troy.”

 

“Hey.” She shook both their hands. “I’m Rose. I just started here.”

 

“Yeah, we know,” replied Douche. “You’re kind of hard to miss, if you don’t mind me saying.”

 

Surf rolled his eyes. “Ignore him. He can’t speak unless it starts with a pick-up line. Why do you think he gets his ass handed to him every time he steps in the ring? Because they all think he’s hitting on ’em.”

 

Douche punched Surf on the arm. Surf belly-laughed. Rose remained unamused but smiled dutifully. “You boys been members here long?”

 

“Well,
my
member’s long,” Douche replied with a wink, “but his won’t satisfy you.”

 

Surf punched Douche on the arm. Douche belly-laughed. Rose remained unamused; this time she didn’t smile. Instead, she walked away. They weren’t just irritating, they were gross, nauseating. Well, one of them was.

 

“Wait, wait. I was only kidding.” Douche stood in front of her, barring her way. “Not about my you-know-what, but I didn’t mean to be so coarse. It won’t happen again, I promise. Stay and talk to us for a bit?”

 

“I’ve got work to do,” she replied.

 

“Okay, sorry. Didn’t mean to keep you. Just do us one favor, then, before you go,” he pleaded, his palms pressed together in prayer. “Say we both asked you out on a date, which one would you choose?”

 

Yup, his douchery was beyond cure. “Are those my only two options?”

 

“Yeah. Hypothetical. If you
had
to choose.”

 

“Okay, then I’d choose the huge guy standing behind you.”

 

Surf and Douche spun round together just as Avery marched up behind them, chewing gum. He’d worked up a sweat over on the mats, and his eyes were fixed with that bugged-out glower he took a few minutes to shake after an intense bout of training. He looked ready to snap someone in half. “What’s going on here?”

 

Both boys greeted him with a quick, sheepish “Hey, boss. Nothing,” and slinked back to their treadmills.

 

“Were they annoying you?” he asked Rose.

 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said.

 

“But they were hitting on you, right? I saw Tony block you off.”

 

“Forget it.”

 

He eyed them threateningly. “I don’t want you getting mixed up with him.”

 

“Why not?”

 

He whipped her a stern, reprimanding look, as though he was an older brother who’d just heard his sister admit she wanted to have sex with his worst enemy. “Because you’re too good for him.”

 

“Okay. What about you?” It was the second time she’d asked him that today, and she wanted to see how long he’d keep deflecting what was so obvious between them.

 

For Christ’s sake, he just cock-blocked Tony because he wanted to keep me for himself. Could he
be
any more obvious?

 

“Just don’t get involved with these guys,” he said. “Keep it professional and they’ll respect you.”

 

She saluted him again, coldly this time to match his chilly advice. He narrowed his eyes a little, telling her he disapproved of her disapproval, then walked away.

 

Rose sighed. This was going to be harder than she’d expected, and not at all for the reasons she’d feared. No, the hard part was going to be keeping it professional between her and Avery. Because when a girl liked a boy and knew that he liked her in return, professional was all an act.

 

A much more difficult act than a girl pretending to be a boy.

 

It hurt her, deep inside, to know she’d be spending so much time with him, in such close proximity, and would have to somehow suppress feelings like these, feelings she’d never felt before, all because he wouldn’t admit he felt the same way.

 

She received a text message on her way back to the office. It was from Cate. But it wasn’t like any text message Cate had sent before, and as Rose read, the confusion already swirling around in her heart and in her mind grew to a sickly hurricane.

 

 

 

Rosie, plz don’t contact me or visit me ever again. This was the last time. There’s nothing u can say or do that won’t make things worse, so plz just stay away. I don’t want 2 see u anymore. Get on with ur life. Cate.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Rose had set herself a punishing pace for her morning run; climbing up the stairs to her flat, she felt it. The rubbery legs, the heavy shoulders, the wheezy huffs and puffs as she steadied herself on the banister. There had to be less agonizing ways to spend her day off. Well, half a day—she was due at the gym for the late shift this evening, but she couldn’t see herself staying behind later, even if she’d miss getting hot and sweaty with Avery. She’d overdone the training lately, trying to impress him, and this was the worst she’d felt in she-couldn’t-remember-how-long.

 

All she wanted to do was switch her rotating fan on, flop onto the bed, and sleep till her shift arrived. If only she didn’t have grocery shopping to do, laundry to wash, and gas and electric bills to pay. The downside of working multiple, long shifts in a row was that personal chores accumulated, busying any free time that one might have been looking forward to. Still, she couldn’t complain too much. On the contrary, she was lucky to have been given this second chance at Wright Hook’s. Things were clicking into place for her to achieve her goal of getting tough, rough, and even with those who’d made her life a misery.

 

At least, they
had
been clicking into place…until her stepsister Cate’s crazy text message yesterday:

 

Rosie, plz don’t contact me or visit me ever again. This was the last time. There’s nothing u can say or do that won’t make things worse, so plz just stay away. I don’t want 2 see u anymore. Get on with ur life. Cate.

 

***

 

Even after reading it two dozen times, it still made no sense. They’d gotten on so well the other day, before Mike had turned up and chased Rose out of the house. And after that, Rose and Cate had exchanged friendly texts. So what had happened since to make her so bitter? Had Mike finally crossed the line and gone berserk? They’d known all along he was a ticking time bomb, and that his abusive outbursts would someday explode into something really scary.

 

What the hell had happened in her old home? She should go over there and
demand
to know, let Mike call the cops on her if he wanted.

 

“RJ! Wait there a minute!”

 

Oh, crap.
Only one person in the whole world called her by her initials, and she hated it almost as much as she hated him. “Can it wait, Joy? I’ve just been on a long run. I’m knackered.”

 

“No, it can’t wait. You’re three weeks overdue, and that’s strike two. I’m not giving you any more warnings.” He scurried up the stairs after her, his almost comically top-heavy torso bouncing around under his sweatshirt. Joy was Bangladeshi, very dark-skinned, and had bug-out eyes that intimidated her a little when it was dark. He was also extremely insecure, which might explain his fanatical bench pressing and the way he always tried to belittle her whenever she disagreed with him.

 

“I’ve already explained that to you,” said Rose. “I’ve just started a new job, so I won’t get paid till the end of this week.”

 

“Have you got some evidence of that?”

 

“What? That I’ve got a job?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What part of
I’ve just started a new job
don’t you get? No paperwork yet, no wage slips, no pay yet. You can ring my employer if you want, if you can’t just wait till the end of the week to get your money.”

 

“Who’s your employer?”

 

“Luca Wright of Wright Hook’s Gym.”

 

He scoffed, looked her up and down. “That’s a men-only gym. You’re trying to tell me
you’re
the one and only girl working there?”

 

“Uh-huh. Call him if you don’t believe me.”

 

“Is there a rub-down service included, or do you just spread your legs right away?”

 

She took her weight off the banister and stood straight. “Fuck off! You’re the one who can’t get it up.”

 

He flattened his hand ready to slap her, but didn’t. He bit his lip and shook his head instead. “That’s strike three, Jacqueline. I want you gone by tomorrow.”

 

“If you can’t take it, you shouldn’t dish it,” she replied. “You want to give me a strike for defending myself, you
and
your umpire can fuck off, Bug-Eyes.” She flipped him off, then carried on up the stairs.

 

It wasn’t until she turned the key to unlock her door that she heard his footsteps thumping after her across the landing. She dashed into her room and went to slam the door behind her, but he got there first. He took the force of the door square on his shoulder. It made him even more furious. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets, as he chased her across the room.

 

“Get out, you—”

 

He blocked her swinging punch and dragged her into his hold—a vice-like choke hold that would either kill her or squeeze her unconscious if he kept it up. All the while his awful breath punched out through gritted teeth, spit peppering the back of her neck. Then he muttered something hateful in his native tongue. Rose kicked at his shins with her heels, clawed at his arms and fingers, but the guy was insane. He’d never let go, she knew, until she stopped struggling. Maybe he just wanted to shut her up, to prove once and for all that he was powerful and she was helpless. Either way, he was too strong for her.

 

But you’re only a guy.

 

She reached behind her and felt for his crotch. He tried to shuffle away, but that would mean releasing his hold. With every ounce of strength she had left, Rose squeezed and twisted his balls and his dick until he squealed out in pain. He let go of her and doubled-up, his dark features twitching in agony.

 

She coughed. Scanning the room for a weapon, she considered the shotgun she’d stolen from Mike.
No, this punk needs to be humiliated.
Instead, she took a run-up and hurled herself at him, feet-first. The drop-kick landed square on his chest. He was already off-balance; her strike sent him careering at the window. His elbow cracked the glass, then he flopped down on the floor, still protecting his privates.

 

“Don’t ever fucking touch me again!” Rose spat down at him then grabbed her purse and her already-packed gym bag. “I’ll be back later for the rest,” she said. “If anything’s missing, I’ll call the cops.”

 

A part of her insisted that was exactly what she should do—charge the son-of-a-bitch with assault—but her interactions with the police had never worked out well for her. Not once. And there were no witnesses here. It was her word against Joy’s. So she decided to quit while she was ahead—well, she was the last one standing—and start over someplace else. Find new digs. Now that she had a steady job, it shouldn’t be that hard to find somewhere better than this cesspit.

 

But more urgently, she had to see Avery. She had to tell him what had happened, and to get him to show her an important counter-move ASAP. She’d cheated her way out of the choke hold.
Jesus
, the bastard had almost clocked her out. And she had to know how to prevent that from ever happening to her again.

 

***

 

“I’m kind of in the middle of something.” Avery wiggled his stopwatch at her, then returned to his supervision of the three pairs of fighters practicing Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and throwing moves on the mats.

 

“It’s important,” she insisted.

 

“But not urgent,” he replied. “I’ll show you any move you want in our next session.”

 

Rose dropped her gym bag so that it thudded on the floor and caught his attention. “Actually, it is urgent. I’ve just been attacked. So it’s a matter of survival.”

 

His frown of concentration vanished, and he just stared at her, maybe trying to see where she was hurt. “Guys, we’ll have to do this again.” He forgot to stop the clock as he strode over to her. “What happened? Are you okay?”

 

“I’ve been better.” She massaged her sore neck. “Asshole nearly choked the life out of me.”

 

His frown returned. It really cut into his brow. “Who did it?”

 

“My jerk landlord I was telling you about.”

 

“I know you said you’d had words, but—”

 

“There’ll be no more words. He’s kicked me out.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I was late with my rent. Strike two, he said. Then I sassed him, so that was strike three—automatic eviction.”

 

Avery waved to someone leaving, but returned immediately to Rose’s story. “Sounds harsh. But that’s no reason to attack you.”

 

“He doesn’t react well to sass, especially from women. And I think he just doesn’t like me personally. So when I flipped him off, he must have short-circuited.” She described the subsequent intrusion and fight and showed him exactly how Joy had applied pressure on her neck.

 

“A rear naked choke,” he said. “What a fucking hero. Except he left his legs in a bad position. You did absolutely the right thing, torqueing his nuts like that.”

 

“I need you to show me how
you
would escape it.”

 

“I will,” he said. “Right after you give me your address.”

 

“What for? You’re not—”

 

“I totally am. He could have killed you with that hold. I’m gonna make sure he never touches you again.”

 

She ran in front of him, blocking his march to the exit. “Do me a favor,” she said. “If you really want to go there, go with me later, help me move my stuff out. You can see him then.” Rose knew that if he went now, while his blood was up, the whole situation would get a helluva lot worse for all concerned. And as much as she would pay to see Avery kick the stuffing out of Joy, she didn’t want him getting in trouble with the cops over it. Not for her. Not for something that was already finished.

 

“We could do that now,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the exit.

 

“No, later. You need to calm down.”

 

“I am calm.”

 

“Avery, just trust me. My way’s better. After you show me the technique for escaping a rear naked choke, it’ll be lunchtime, and we can go grab a bite, talk this whole thing over. Then, after you’ve finished your classes, you can give me a lift to my place and help me move out.”

 

He paused, ran a hand through his hair, and gave a sigh. He looked at her. Then, out of nowhere, he cupped her face in his big, warm hands and kissed her on the forehead. Rose didn’t know where to look—half the gym was watching—but she liked where this was going.

 

“What was that for?” she asked.

 

“For being bossy…when I needed it. And for drop-kicking that prick.” He high-fived her. “Your first win,” he said.

 

“Um, yeah, I guess.”

 

“Then lunch is on me.”

 

“Deal,” she said. “Right after you show me…”

 

“Come with me.” He put his arm over her shoulder, careful not to hurt her sore neck. “It’s a move I need to demonstrate on someone else. Who do we not like in here?”

 

Rose didn’t hesitate. “Douche.”

 

“Who’s that?”

 

“The rich guy. Tony. He’s doing weights.”

 

“Hmm. Good call. Think I can take him?”

 

She scoffed. “I think he’d slime you to death.”

 

“Best get the towel ready then.”

 

“Avery?”

 

“Mm.”

 

“You’re not really going to get rough with Joy, are you?”

 

“Why? You don’t want him to get hurt?”

 

She gave his jaw a squeeze. “
You,
you big ape. I don’t want
you
getting in trouble. He’s not worth it.”

 

“He won’t fight me.”

 

“How do you know? He benches all the time. And he attacked me.”

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