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“No shit!” Casey whispers just as quietly and quickly goes back to rowing like his life depends on it.
Yep, if this shit gets out, we’re going to end up red smears on the asphalt after Chase runs us down. But fuck it, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Chase work out like he has us doing. He hasn’t gone to fat or anything like that, but it’s been a long time since he’s been put through the paces.
I might be punishing Bree unknowingly through Chase, but I think I’m okay with it.
I don’t have time to drop back into a depression right now. I’ve got a kid and a fight to deal with. I need my head in the fucking game.
Fuck it.
After this fight, I’m going to her dad’s house and yanking her ass out of there. I can’t get arrested before a fight, but afterwards… Yeah, that’ll work...
Shit.
I feel almost fucking bipolar. Bouncing from resentment toward her to not giving a shit, she’s mine.
The more I row and feel the muscles in my body straining, the more me chasing her ass down sounds like a good idea. And if I get arrested? I’ve got enough money to make that shit disappear.
“She’s not getting away from us, Casey,” I say to him as I yank extra deep into the machine.
He’s breathing heavy and sweat drips off his forehead as he leans forward to take a mini-break. “No?”
“Nope, were going to go drag her ass back to where she belongs,” I say, and pull hard on the machine again.
“Aren’t there laws against kidnapping?” he asks seriously.
I pull off a shrug. “I’m hot and I have a shit ton of money, we’re good. I’ve also got connections.”
“Dude, that’s kinda creepy,” he says with a laugh.
“Yeah, I know,” I say, and slow my rowing down. “Ready for the bags? If we stay on this machine for too long, Dale is going to get suspicious.”
“Yep!” he says as he jumps up to follow me over to the bags.
“Alright, we’ll do fifty on each limb, then we’ll see if we can find some sparring partners. I need Brett to work on takedowns with me,” I say as I watch Dale heading straight for us with a face full of anger.
Thankfully we’re both beet red and sweaty as fuck. We haven’t been sitting idly by today.
“You two!” Dale growls as he stops in front of us. “What are you doing?”
“Bags, then sparring if I can get Brett to work on takedowns with me. He’s the closest to Jamey’s style of fighting,” I say, and keep hustling Casey past Dale.
“Good, I better not see you two resting today! Too many fucking calories are running through this gym. I don’t work in no fucking bakery!” Dale shouts at our backs.
Looking over at Casey as we reach the bags, I ask, “Did he just compare this place to a bakery?”
“Think we went too far?” he asks with a wince.
I shake my head. “Not yet. I want to order half a dozen pizzas around lunchtime under Bear’s name.”
His eyes go wide. “Oh god, please tell me we’re heading home by then.”
I slam my elbow into the bag. “Yeah, right when they’re supposed to get here.”
We go through a few repetitions before Casey stops and turns to face me. “Emmett?”
“Yeah?” I ask, wrapping my arms around the bag while I rest my sweaty forehead against it.
Without facing me, he asks, “How long will I be living with you?”
