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CALEB
“Who’s Madeline?”
What a stupid question. I pull back and reward Logan with a quick jab to the jaw. “What?”
He reels back, blocks my next punch. “The gift. In your bag.”
“No one.” I follow up with a left, and then another right. Blocked.
“Gotta be someone. You don’t give Sterling Cross jewelry to just anyone.”
Fuck. I’ve known Logan for a long time, and he won’t let me live this down. Inventing a girl just to get Juliet jealous. What the fuck am I? Twelve?
I unleash a round of punches, hard ones. Taking no mercy. All I see is that prick David’s face. David from Marketing. If he wasn’t my best marketing guy, I’d… Fuck.
If he kisses, if he so much as touches Juliet… I swear, I’ll have him by the balls.
I drive another hard punch, right for center mass.
“Fuck man. Something’s got you riled, though,” he huffs out. “Juliet?”
“No.” I’ve got Logan backed against the corner of the ring. “I told you…”
“She betrayed you. Yeah. So why didn’t you cut her loose again?”
“I did. It’s just—”
“She’s still working for you.”
“Yeah.” I duck a blow to the side of my face. “Hard to get good help these days.”
“But fuck, man. She betrayed you.”
“I don’t know. She denied it. Pretty convincingly. And her mom…” I throw another punch. Why the fuck am I making excuses for her? “She could’ve been doing just what she had to, to survive.”
“Fucking you over?”
“She needed the money.”
“For what?”
“Her mom’s in a nursing home. She couldn’t afford it on her own.”
But I paid for that. I took care of it for her. She didn’t have anything to worry about. Which makes me a fool.
A quick jab. Left. Right. I connect with the corner of his eye, something even the helmet won’t guard against. He blinks and throws his hands up. “Whoa. Whoa.”
He dips the ropes and slips under, grabbing his water bottle. I follow. We’ve been sweating it out in the ring for an hour and my muscles are still tight with rage. I go to the punching bag and start to jab at it.
On the bench, Logan’s still recovering. “So you’re willing to forgive her?”
I shake my head. She lied. She made me the fool. And now I have to deal with Seb Fucking Wolfe, as if I didn’t have enough shit on my plate to begin with.
Logan wipes the sweat from his brow with the towel. “Come on. Let’s hit the shower and get some brews.”
Yeah. It’s clear this isn’t working. Drowning my sorrows in alcohol’s the next step.
Focusing all my hate on the bag, I deliver one last hard punch, picturing David’s smug, nice-guy face.
