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Just when Tyler thinks it’s over and I’m going to surrender, I cut my arm under his knees and take him out until he’s flat on his back. Then I place a knee on his gut, and as he grunts, I swing at his face, landing a good punch to his cheek.
The adrenaline from it all has me wheezing, and I fall next to him, my chest heaving for air.
“You’re a real fucking asshole, you know that?” Tyler mutters between gasps.
“Does this mean you approve of me taking your sister out?” I turn my head to flash a toothy shit-eating grin. He jabs his elbow into my chest, then stands up.
“For the record, my sister would chew you up, then spit you out before you even had the chance to ask her out. She’s tougher than I am.” He holds out his hand and helps me up.
“Alright. Point taken.” I laugh, though we both know it was just the fuel that lit our workout. “I need to hit the showers and head to work. Now that I’ve kicked your ass, I won’t feel the need to punch anyone out today.”
“Don’t push your luck, Holt.”
I slide between the ropes, then jump out of the ring. Looking over my shoulder, I smirk. “You know I always do.”
Once I got the degree I needed to pursue a career in forensics, I had hoped my bitch boy days of making coffee runs and filing papers would also end. Each internship has taught me so much, even if parts of it sucked, and I’m grateful for the experiences. Putting them on my resume helped get a foot in the door for the job I really want. Unfortunately, only a few forensic investigator jobs exist in the area, so while I wait for a position to open, I had to find other work to pay the bills.
I got a job at the Bureau of Investigations as an assistant in the homicide unit. It’s right up my alley and involves more of what I went to school for, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get treated like a grunt. Being the DA’s son comes with higher expectations, and while I don’t mind the added pressures, I could live without the constant comments about how “Daddy got me here.”
Working around men in suits all day is like being in the middle of a testosterone war. Everyone has a fucking point to prove.
Today ended up being one of those days I despise and was happier than a pig in mud to finally leave.
My supervisor lives to get under my goddamn skin and puts me in an piss-poor mood especially after it drives me to fuck up something. It was an easy task, but my mind was elsewhere after the way I woke up this morning.
I just want to go home, kick back, and have a beer to end this shit-tastic day. The last thing I need is company at the house, and that’s exactly what I see when I pull into the driveway.
Fucking great.
Sophie and Maddie.
Normally, I don’t mind their presence even when things get awkward, but it’s been more than usual lately ever since Brandon died. They seem to think we need the distraction. Lennon has pushed everyone away except Hunter, so the girls come visit us. Losing Brandon was another wake-up call, one I didn’t know I needed, but after what happened with Emma and helping with the homicide cases, I know all too well how short and unfair life can be.
Still, after the shit day I had, I just wanted to relax at home in quiet. Sophie and Maddie come with talking, lots of talking. Avoiding Sophie makes it easier to accept that we can never be together, but it gets harder when she’s in my damn house invading my personal space.
“Hey, man,” Liam greets as soon as he hears me.
“Hey.” I keep my eyes focused in front of me as I walk toward the kitchen.
“Rough day, big guy?” Maddie asks.
I grunt. “Could say that.”
Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I slam the door shut, then twist the cap off the bottle. I start chugging it, needing to erase the day away. Laughter echoes from the living room, and I grow more agitated that Sophie and Liam are so friendly.
I shouldn’t give a shit, but even after all this time, I still do. Though I don’t show it, I care a lot for Sophie, but having her around and in my house always fucks with my head.
She deserves better than I could ever offer her, better than someone who’s fighting their own demons and is an emotional mess. The more I remind myself of that, the better.
Distance.
It’s what I need so the temptation stops choking me.
The moment I walk into the living room and dart my eyes toward them, I instantly regret it. Sophie’s lying on the couch with her feet in Liam’s lap, and Maddie’s flipping through the channels. I know I have no right to feel jealous or bitter, but that doesn’t make seeing Liam’s hands on her any easier.
