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“Well, she’s already here, so go on back.”
I keep my head ducked as I slink by so Roxie can’t see my eyes. No sense letting her meet the monster again when she’s the only one who manages to get an actual verbal response out of my sorry ass.
After a couple of weeks here, most of the fighters and staff don’t bother talking to me anymore. I keep my hood up and eyes on the floor whenever I’m not sparring or training, and I never do pleasantries. Being ignored helps people understand they shouldn’t speak to the new guy. I heard some whispering and know I already have a rep for being a complete fucking douche, and that’s the way I want it.
Britt’s office is in the back of the gym. As I approach, I spot one of the employees standing in her doorway. Being as quiet as I can, which is pretty damn quiet, I walk up behind the man. He’s not talking and neither is Britt. When I peer over the guy’s shoulder, which is easy because I’m a good four or five inches taller, I realize she’s absorbed in reading a file on her desk and doesn’t even know he’s there.
Is he fucking spying on her?
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a tight coil of anger sizzles in my chest. My vision shimmers with a red-tinged haze as this douchebag molests innocent and sweet Britt, my Britt, with his pervy eyes. I’m surprised by the possessiveness of my thoughts, but I’ll worry about that later.
“Excuse me,” I bark, shoving past him and shouldering my way into the room. He stumbles forward, ready to snap out with a biting comment, but when he recognizes me, his face blanches and his mouth snaps shut.
Britt turns around at my loud entrance, her wide gaze flicking back and forth between me and the motherfucking pervert gaping next to me.
“Max? K? Is…is everything all right?” Her brow wrinkles in confusion. She’s astute, catching on to the fact something strange just transpired.
I stare at Max, fixing my hard gaze on his shocked face. His skin is flushed a bright crimson, and I watch in satisfaction as the red drains out when Max makes eye contact. He understands what he’s looking at. He sees the truth. The monster. The killer behind my cold eyes.
“I-I…” Max staggers back toward the door, stammering like the pussy he is. “I’m s-sorry, Britt. I’ll catch you later.” Wide eyed, he darts out the door.
Fucking coward. Not so ballsy when faced with someone he can’t fool with his bullshit nice-guy act.
Britt tilts her head questioningly towards the empty space previously occupied by Max. I give her a noncommittal shrug. She smiles, facing me. Once again, those blue eyes don’t waver as they meet mine. Chills trickle down my spine at Britt’s ability to hold her own when coming face-to-face with th
e monster. I wait for her to scream, to run away, to see me for what I am and turn away.
Instead, her pupils dilate, and the icy cold is replaced by a smoldering heat that ignites deep inside me. Quickly—too quickly—flames begin to flicker across every inch of my skin, fire spreading like molten lava. She’s everything a man could want, beautiful, kind, with a sort of innocence about her. She’s the type of woman men fight for. I would fight for her.
Ultimate control over my body is one of the only things I pride myself in, so when my cock begins to stir in my shorts, I flinch in disgust at my lack of restraint.
“Hi,” Britt says in her soft, pleasant voice. She glances back down at her desk, shuffling the stack of papers she had been flipping through when I caught that bastard Max spying on her. “You can sit if you like.” Britt glances up as I drop into the same chair as my first day here.
She picks up the chair behind her desk, once again bringing it out to sit next to me. Reaching over, Britt flips her laptop around, the screen now facing us.
“Will this be okay? Or is the screen too small?” Once more, Britt makes bold, direct eye contact, but as usual her voice is low and timid, almost hesitant. My heart stutters at her close proximity, at the warmth of her body and the alluring scent of her skin.
“It’s fine,” I grunt rudely. I need to remember I’m not here to be nice or make friends or even get laid, though I can’t count the number of times I’ve imagined undressing Britt and worshipping her body. I’m here to fight, to train, to motherfucking make use of my pathetic life.
We spend two plus hours going over different highlights from the last few days. One thing I notice being this close, is that Britt is young, really young. She’s glaringly out of place in this gym, a tiny blonde innocent amid the blood and violence and testosterone. Yet at the same time, despite the diminutive appearance and tiny voice, Britt is far from out of place. She’s brave, unintimidated by the massive fighters, and as the day goes on, I realize she’s a fucking genius at what she does. One more reason to credit Gabriel for his ability in spotting talent and using it to strengthen his team.
After a quick bite to eat, we’re ready to go into the ring to try out some of Britt’s modifications. Gabriel stands to one side while I torque my body into each requested position.
“Okay, see here?” Britt taps the inside of my left knee. “You need to be like this.” Her small hand wraps around my thigh to manipulate my leg where she wants it. Electricity from her touch burns from my leg up and over my entire body, scorching me from the inside out. I say a prayer of thanks for my athletic cup. Without it, my cock would be jutting right into Britt’s face since she’s on her knees in front of me.
It’s near impossible to concentrate without my brain going to thoughts of those thick lips wrapping around my dick, but years of exerting near obsessive control over my body helps to mask the urge. Helps, but doesn’t stop it completely. Britt is my weakness, my kryptonite. If I’m not careful, she’ll burrow under my skin, break down my meticulously crafted defenses, and reduce me to a weak, emotional mess.
Britt releases my leg and stands up, her face flushed. Is it possible she feels it too? This thread between us? One that keeps tugging me in as I fight to get free. Even if she feels it, I doubt Britt is feeling the same level of desire as me. It’s as if before we met I was suffocating, and now, when I’m near her, my lungs are filled with precious oxygen, allowing me to breathe easy for the first time in a decade.
“Try a few kicks,” Gabriel says, stepping aside so the camera can catch my new form. I execute a few downward roundhouse kicks, slamming my foot into Gabriel’s padded hands. “Well?” They both wait for me to say something.
What the hell do they want me to say?
I shrug. “It’s good.”
Britt smiles, her full lips pulling back to reveal brilliant white teeth. Her bright blue eyes and sweet face send another bolt of lightning to my blackened heart, this sweet, innocent angel trying to resuscitate a soul that died a long time ago. I don’t do angelic. I don’t do sweet. And I sure as fuck don’t do innocent. I can’t ruin her. And if I touched her, that’s what would happen. She’d be ruined. Dragged down into the blackness of my life, to never be the same.
I turn away from Britt’s smile, unable to continue looking at something I can’t ever have.
