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“Well I do.” She sounded impatient. “I didn’t like how you just left like that the other night.”
Mack didn’t respond, just let loose a series of jabs.
“Liam says you’re a coward and we should forget about you.”
Mack’s hand fisted tighter in his gloves. Of course that’s how that fucker would spin it. Mack stretched his neck to try to ease some of his tension. Still he didn’t look at her. “Guess he’s right,” he said.
“Bullshit.” Her voice was like a whip and he felt her take another step toward him. “I was there that night. At the dance. I saw you laughing. Having a good time. Then it’s like some switch flipped. And I haven’t seen the guy I first met that night in the kitchen since.”
Finally he turned to her. She was back in her overalls with a skimpy little tank underneath. She’d tried to tie her hair back but it was escaping all around her face. Her cheeks were pink, probably from the heat. Mack’s cock twitched remembering how her cheeks had looked the same when he was burying himself inside her. And the look on her face—that mixture of shock and pleasure, everyone of her reactions playing out on that expressive face of hers.
Mack clenched his jaw and he swung for the bag again. “So now you want to stand around and talk about feelings? We had fun the other night. Then I moved on. End of story.”
“Is it?” She took a step toward him and put her hand on his forearm to stop his next jab. “Because that guy I first met? The man I danced with? I really liked him. He was someone special.”
Mack felt her words in his gut. Special? She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. The only special he had in him was being especially good at kicking the shit out of people. He glared at her. “I was trying to get laid. That’s all.”
Calla shook her head as he talked and he could see the stubborn written all over her face. It was a familiar expression. Ben used to look like that when he wanted something. “It was more than that,” she said. “I don’t know much but I know that.”
Mack turned back to the bag. Fact was, he couldn’t look at Calla now without seeing Ben.
Just one more reason to shut this shit down. “Oh yeah?” he sneered. “And why do you think you know anything? You were a goddamned virgin. Fuck, most teenagers have more experience than you. Besides, three months from now, I’m outta here. Right after the competition.” It was the conclusion he’d come to about fifteen minutes into wailing on the bag. He respected Xavier enough to finish what he’d committed to with training the mustang. But after that, he was out. The grim reaper was coming for Bone, and Mack would be the one to introduce them. “I don’t need any complications between now and then.”
Calla put her hands on her hips. “I don’t have to be a complication. I’d like to be your friend.”
“Already got enough friends.” He swung at the bag again. The impact went up his arm and into his chest. He punched again, even harder. He hadn’t wrapped his hands with tape before putting his gloves on, and if he kept it up this way he’d find his knuckles bloody when he pulled them off.
Calla scoffed. “You don’t have any friends.”
“Exactly.” Punch. “And that’s how I like it.” Jab, jab, punch.
“Everyone needs friends. I’m just starting to realize that. I lived most of my life lonely and thought it would never change. I was wrong.” Her voice went soft. “You’re wrong too.”
“Look, little girl,” Mack spun on her and pointed a glove her direction. “You were an okay fuck, but shit, I never would have touched you if I knew you were gonna get all clingy and shit.”
Calla’s nostrils flared and her hands clenched. “Maybe Liam’s right. Maybe you’re nothing but a bully.”
He wished she’d stop bringing that fucker up. He hadn’t missed the way Liam was always finding some way to touch her whenever the two were in the same room. Like a dog staking his fucking claim.
After several more long moments of him not responding, Calla threw her hands up in the air. “I give up.”
She spun and walked away. Mack forced himself not to watch her go. If she looked back, he didn’t want her to see him looking after her like a lost fucking puppy.
No, better for everyone involved if he took out his frustrations on this goddamned punching bag rather than pulling a sweet girl like that into his fucked up sphere.
He’d been a selfish fuck to ever look for distraction in her soft arms in the first place. But that was over.
Bone was out of prison. His purpose was clear now. He’d train up to peak condition again. Make himself a machine. To do the only thing a savage like him was good for.
