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17
By the end of the following week Cal is true to his word and Oceanside is rigged up with all sorts of equipment. Cameras blink from the corner of every room and corridor, filming all our movements. Motion lights have been placed around the site, preventing anyone from getting in or out without being lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, and video recording equipment has been set up in one of the downstairs rooms. They’ve even hired two guys whose only responsibility is to sit and watch those livestreams for any untoward behaviour and more importantly, to capture any arseholes who want to send us another message from the King.
Cal has also brought in four more guards who watch over us all, creepy and silent. The fact of the matter is this place is as good as any prison now and I’m feeling the strain, not to mention the weight of Pink’s abduction. It’s been almost two weeks since she was taken and a week since I spoke with my father on the pier.
This has just been another long week of silence. My father sure knows how to fuck with our heads. The only thing that is keeping me going is my fight in the ring with Bram next Sunday. We might have to wear boxing gloves, but I’m still intent on inflicting some serious fucking damage. Even Kate has begun to thirst for her time in the ring with Red.
“I can’t wait to see that bitch’s face when I send her flying on her arse,” Kate puffs as she bounces on her feet, jabbing the pads Eastern is holding up. We’re back in the gym again, pretty much commandeering the space.
When she misses the pad and smashes her glove-covered fist into Eastern’s shoulder instead, both of their mouths pop open, Kate’s in apology and Eastern’s in surprised pain.
“Sorry.”
“Ow, fuck!”
Kate snorts with laughter, then Eastern joins in. One minute they’re sparring and the next practically rolling around with mirth.
“Bloody hell, Kate, you’re getting good at this,” Eastern says after they’ve both calmed down a bit. Pretty sure that laughing hysterically for five minutes is more of a sign of how on edge they’re feeling rather than Eastern’s surprise at how hard Kate can punch.
“I know, right? Thanks to you all helping me train, I’m a lot stronger.”
“Red ain’t gonna know what hit her,” Camden says, as he steps into the gym with Sonny in tow.
The door slams shut behind them. “Where’s Ford?” I ask. He hasn’t missed a training session with us and is usually here before we all arrive.
“Nice to see you too,” Sonny deadpans, then gives me a wink so I know he’s only joking and not really bothered by my need to see Ford. He stretches out his arm that is finally free from the cast. A quick visit to the hospital a couple of days ago and he’s fighting fit.
Camden frowns. Of the four boys he seems to be the one struggling the most with sharing. Whilst we’ve spent more time with each other, it’s been in a group. Camden and I haven’t been alone together at all, and we both miss that. He’s more himself when he’s alone with me. In a group he tends to maintain his gang leader role, even though we don’t really have a leader in our crew. I guess it’s hard to change being a certain way when that’s how you’ve always been viewed.
“I haven’t seen him all day. Pretty sure he’s skipped most of the lessons. Thought he was hanging with you?” Camden responds, and I realise the frown isn’t from jealousy but from concern.
“Do we need to worry?” Kate asks, doing exactly that.
“Nah, with the number of cameras strung up around this place and the fucking guards Cal’s got roaming the halls, it’s unlikely anything has happened. Besides, Ford can take care of himself, right?” Eastern proclaims, looking for reassurance.
Sonny side-eyes Eastern, a grin dimpling his cheeks. “Anyone would think you cared.”
Eastern shrugs. “He’s a mate, of course I care.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Ford says, stepping into the gym.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Camden snaps.
Ford rolls his eyes. “Calm the fuck down, Cam, I’m no dog on a leash.”
“Never said you were,” he mutters, turning his back on Ford and grabbing a pair of boxing gloves, chucking them to Sonny. “Pair up with me,” he orders.
Sonny laughs. “You’re so fucking bossy, Cam, but now that I’m all fixed up I’ll happily smack the shit out of you if that’s what you need to deal with your pent-up sexual frustration.”
“Yeah, like that’s gonna happen anytime soon,Dimples. Besides, I ain’t sexually frustrated,” he retorts, glancing at me with lust-filled eyes that tell me otherwise.
Sonny snorts. “Yeah, and the Pope ain’t Catholic.”
I watch them both with a light heart. Seeing them rib each other without any menace behind it is a good feeling. We’ve come a long way, that’s for sure.
“Looks like those two are in love,” Ford remarks dryly.
They step into the ring and start sparring. Sonny doesn’t hold back even with his newly fixed arm. I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t be sparring at all, but Sonny won’t be told, he goes at Camden full-force. I would say they were evenly matched in terms of skill and dexterity. It would be a close call in a real fight, that’s for sure.
