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Colton whacked his gloves together enthusiastically. “Come on, who’s next?”
I looked around. Danny was busy with Erin and the others didn’t seem to be in yet. Ah hell. But I couldn’t refuse Colton. He’s a big, bearded, intimidating guy who could pass for an outlaw biker, but he’s sweet-natured and he’s utterly loyal to the team. He was so happy to finally have his boxing ring, I didn’t want to spoil it. And it’d been a while since I’d sparred: it’d do me good.
I put down the box of pastries and pulled on some gloves and a sparring helmet. “Go easy on an old man,” I muttered as I climbed through the ropes. I was only half joking. At forty-one, I’m easily the oldest guy on the team.
“No problem, boss,” said Colton, tapping gloves with me. He dropped into a fighting stance and began to circle me. As always, he was wearing a band tour t-shirt, the edges frayed where the sleeves had been torn off, and his hulking shoulders bulged. Cal was the tallest but Colton was the biggest, a walking wall of lean, hard muscle, and when you squared off against him like this, it was like facing a gorilla. He shuffled towards me, keeping his weight low: he used to wrestle, and you could tell.
At first, I managed to hold my own, throwing fast, hard punches that kept Colton at bay. But the guy was relentless, forcing me to keep moving, making me do all the work, and if I let him get within reach I’d wind up slammed down on the canvas like one of the criminals he bounty-hunted. I tried pushing forward and got in one good hit, but then he ducked under my fists and came at me with a flurry of punches. I stepped back, careful of my footing—
And suddenly, I was back in Mexico, Lorna’s soft hand between my shoulder blades, guiding me backward. She’d come back for me, despite me telling her to go—
I dropped my hands just as Colton swung at me. The punch that should have bounced harmlessly off my gloves smacked me right in the jaw and I went backward like a felled tree. There was a glorious few seconds of freefall and then my back smacked into the canvas, knocking Lorna from my mind and all the air right out of me.
“Aw, shit.” Colton’s Missouri accent came from somewhere above me. “Sorry boss, I thought you’d block that.”
I wasn’t capable of speech, so I just lifted one gloved hand in response. It’s okay. It was my own damn fault. I’d dropped my guard because she was in my head. Goddammit!
I lay there fuming for a few seconds. Then a wet, rough tongue nuzzled my ear. Atlas, Colton’s bear cub, had stuck his head through the ropes and was licking me. It tickled and I chuckled, letting go of the anger. But I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t forget this woman and it was messing me up.
At that moment, my phone rang. Colton reached down and hauled me to my feet, I used my teeth to unfasten one glove and then the other and I just managed to get my phone out and answer before it stopped ringing. “Yeah?” I asked, still a little groggy.
“JD Taggert. You’re a hard man to find.” The voice was male and Scottish, and I’d heard it before.
I scrunched up my forehead in confusion. “Mr. McBride?!”
“I wanted to thank you for what you did,” said Russ.
I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it. “It was nothing, sir.” My face went hot. I’d called him sir, like I was a teenager arriving to take his daughter to prom. “How’d you get this number? How’d you even know my last name?”
“My grandson saw your passport when you showed it to the cops outside the hotel,” Russ told me proudly. “Sharp lad. He told me about everything you did. I’ve made some friends in Washington over the years and they helped me track you down.” I could hear him smirking. “Turns out, you and your team are getting a reputation.”
I grimaced, remembering the trips to DC after our first mission in Ecuador, senators grilling us while my necktie did its best to strangle me. Then after Berlin, there’d been more questions. Some of the politicians hated us. Some loved us. But it sounded like at least Russ McBride was on our side. “Thank you, sir,” I mumbled. Dammit, I did it again. I glanced around the room, worried: I hadn’t told anyone what happened on my vacation and I didn’t want a bunch of questions about Lorna. Luckily, the others had discovered the box of pastries and were crowded around it.
“I want to thank you properly,” Russ told me. “There’s an event coming up in a couple of days, in New York. It’s the opening of a marina we built. I’d love to have you as a guest.”
