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She’s small. She’s young. But she knows more about fighting than anyone in that gym, excluding her brothers.
Damn right they listen.
With everyone so busy, even Casey has been working at the gym; our new temp receptionist is cute and feisty, and as she processes each new face that walks through the door in search of a small taste of Kincaid fame, she does it with a smile – or a snarl; depends on how they speak to her.
In between everything else, I’ve also been training when Iz has time for me. I’ve been thinking about my own fight journey – and when Bobby might be open to letting me compete again. It’ll be an uphill battle, but maybe I can bring it up when he’s in a super good mood someday… or mid blowjob.
It’s been a year since my first fight. I’ve been sparring with some of the other members – guys and girls, now that Iz is a little too big for that – and I go alright. My shoulder doesn’t bother me much.
I feel confident.
Strong.
Ready.
I won’t ask until after next week, though. I can be reasonable, and I’d hate to give my husband a heart attack before his big fight.
I look down as my desk phone rings and I wonder distractedly if I can give myself an early mark today. “Yeah?” No need for formalities, since I know it’s our receptionist calling.
“Hey, Kit. I have Aleesia on line three. Can I transfer?”
My brain niggles as I try to figure out why that name is familiar. Aleesia. Aleesia.
Who is Alee–Fuck!
I exhale and press my fingers to my eyes. “Yep, Anne, I’ll take it. Thanks.” I hit the button to pick up line three and poke my eyeballs. It’s less painful. “Hi, this is Catherine Kincaid.” My voice is robotic, but my heart races like I’m standing in the ring and getting pummeled by a female terminator.
