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“Fine, have it your way,” he finally said, stepping into another corner of the ring and motioning for me to join him. “I’ll let you speak with your fists—hopefully with better blocking from here on out—but, you know I’m here if you need to talk, right?”
“Appreciate it,” I replied through the slight lump in my throat. Who would’ve thought this troublemaking little brother of mine would grow up to be such a good man? He was a Wilson,so I was sure that accounted for most of it, but it’d been touch-and-go for a bit before he joined the Marines.
It was just too bad Paisley’s brother hadn’t had the same opportunity.
Instantly mad again, I was more than ready for round two when Travis and I touched gloves. And then we were off, trading punches and ducking each other’s swings just like we’d grown up practicing. As we continued to move around the ring, I found myself channeling all my frustrations into each step—frustration with Paisley, at my own inability to move past what happened, and at the walls we’d built up between us.
It felt good to let it out. Each blow I landed, each strike Travis snuck by me, distracted me from every unspoken emotion I’d had since the idea of Paisley working for my department first came up.
If every day with her would affect me like today did? I had a feeling Mrs. McClusky wouldn’t be the only lunchtime regular around here.
“Come on, man,” Travis taunted, dodging one of my punches with a crooked grin. “You’re holdin’ back, and it better not be because you’re worried about this.”
I looked down as he gestured to his injured leg.
At first, none of us would spar with him. We were his older brothers, and that dang leg was a scary sight even now, let alone when he’d first asked us to help him get back in the ring.
The last thing we wanted to do was accidentally hurt him.
But he wouldn’t stand for it, and eventually, we’d given in.
Did I still take it easier on him than I would’ve? Yep. When it came to grappling and speedy maneuvers that might have him twisting or turning the wrong way? Absolutely. And I was pretty sure that’d never stop.
But what had me holding back today had nothing to do with mindinghisinjuries. It was about minding my own.
“What’s got you so off?” he asked.
“Nothin,’” I grunted, throwing another punch—this time connecting solidly with his shoulder.
But it didn’t help, and I hated that no matter how many punches I threw in the name of letting off steam, it wouldn’t solve my problems with Paisley.
I was determined to give it the old college try, though, and I was about to throw another punch when the gym doors burst open.
“Uncle Adam! Uncle Travis!” Phoebe’s eyes sparkled as she skipped into the gym, her ever-present companion, Gertie, trotting alongside her. “We came to watch you guys train!”
“Hey, darlin’!” Travis grinned, pausing our session to glance at our little niece. “Good to see you two troublemakers. Shouldn’t you be in school, though?”
“Half day,” she replied cheerily, hugging him around the waist despite our sparring, which had left us both slick with sweat. Then she danced over to me and followed suit. “Hi, Uncle Adam!”
“Hey there, Miss Phoebe,” I said, catching my breath. I couldn’t help but smile as I hugged her, grateful for yet another distraction.
“Momma said we could hang here if we promised not to cause trouble,” she said as she stepped back, beaming proudly with her hands on her hips.
Travis raised an eyebrow, using his forearm to wipe the sweat from his upper lip. “You sure you can manage that, kiddo?”
She nodded vigorously. “Cross my heart!”
“All right, then,” Travis conceded with a chuckle. “But you two gotta stay outta the way, okay? We don’t want anybody gettin’ hurt.”
“Okay!” Phoebe enthusiastically agreed, settling down on a bench to watch us continue our sparring session.
Gertie, however, had other ideas. Catching sight of the speed bag, the mischievous goat focused on the black leather like it was her mortal enemy. Then, with surprising agility, she reared up and began headbutting the bag, sending it swinging wildly back and forth.
“Whoa there, Gertie!” I called out, stifling a laugh. “That ain’t an intruder! Take it easy!”
“Get it, Gertie!” Phoebe cheered, clapping her hands in delight. “Show that big ol’ bag who’s boss!”
“Phoebe,” Travis scolded gently, trying to hold back his own laughter. “You’re supposed to be keepin’ Gertie in line, remember?”
