Vow of Retribution Page 2

  “You can’t be too prepared,” I insist. Crossing my arms over my chest and looking toward the kitchen window, I chew on my lips and breathe in deeply through my nose. When my eyes settle on Harper, she’s watching me with furrowed eyebrows. I see the question in her eyes that she knows I won’t answer. I keep parts of my past hidden, even from myself. It’d be wonderful if I could get Harper and Valerie to come to a self-defense class with me. The techniques can help in so many different situations. I don’t want any other woman to ever be in the situation I was in years ago.

  Harper gently squeezes my shoulder as she leaves the kitchen. The squeeze says more than she ever will. I get it, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you. I nod my head but don’t look at her as she goes to her room.

  2

  LIAM

  I pull into the parking lot of Raise the Bar. The gym is in a large warehouse. The outside of the building is simple, nothing flashy like the gyms in Chicago. The name is proudly displayed in large, bold, black-painted letters across the side of the building. I hop out of my Jeep, sling my bag over my shoulder, and head inside.

  I’m blown away when I walk through the gym’s doors. A boxing ring is in the far right corner, and two men are sparring while other fighters watch. There are punching bags suspended from the ceiling near the ring. Jump ropes hang on the wall and weight sets are tucked into the corner. The middle of the back wall has a series of doors, and I assume gym classes are held beyond them. The back-left corner is set up like an obstacle course. Scattered through the middle of the gym are the standard machines you would find in almost every workout place across America.

  “And, there he is. In the flesh. Back in Texas,” a loud, booming voice calls from the right. I look over and see Hudson striding toward me with a shit-eating grin lighting up his eyes. We haven’t seen each other in years but kept in touch throughout college and after. We’d occasionally grab a beer when I was in town visiting family. Now that I’m back for good, he was one of the first people I called. “Hey, man,” he says as he gets closer. We clasp hands and pat each other on the back in a quick hug. “How are you doing? Happy to be home?”

  “Yeah. It’s great to be back in Austin, close to family. I’m doing great. Almost fully moved in, not that I brought much from Chicago.” I rake my hands through my hair, exhaling a loud sigh of relief that seems to come automatically each time I realize I’m out of Chicago.

  Hudson frowns as he looks down. He quickly looks back to me and claps his hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, I know your ma missed you around here. We all did, man. Let me know if you need help with anything.”

  I nod my thanks, looking around the gym. “This place looks great.”

  “It is. My buddy James owns the place. You’ll meet him soon. We’ll grab some beers later.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Let me show you around. Up for some sparring?” Hudson’s grin is back as he shadowboxes in front of me.

  I punch his shoulder lightly and laugh. “You know it.”

  After sparring in the boxing ring with Hudson, we take a seat on the bench to catch our breath. Hudson hands me a bottled water.

  “Thanks, man.”

  He nods and swallows most of the water in one gulp. “What brought you back to Texas? Last time we spoke, I thought you really liked it in Chicago.”

  “I did like it. I liked my job, had some good buddies, and a great friend with benefits situation.”

  “Sounds pretty great to me. What happened?”

  “I don’t know, man. I was working a lot. I enjoyed it, but I hardly ever had time to use my vacation hours. Each trip home got shorter. And then it just got hard to leave Chicago. The winters were a bitch.” I don’t add the main reason I left Chicago without looking back. Everything I tell Hudson is true. I just leave out the biggest piece of the puzzle.

  Being in Chicago was great for a long time. I had fun in the city when I started my job and even more fun in college, but I started to miss my family and friends in Texas. Most of the guys from college eventually moved to New York or back to their hometowns. The buddies I knew from work were cool to grab a beer with, but there was something missing. When I found a hobby to replace the monotony, shit turned ugly.

  “I get that, but you know, I never wanted to leave this place. I was born here, and I’ll die here,” Hudson says.

  Hudson has a large family. His parents were high school sweethearts. All of his aunts, uncles, and cousins are here. His family lives close to each other in the same neighborhood as my family. Hudson is now my parents’ neighbor and is incredibly close with his family. They’re all in a family construction business together, except for one brother who made his own path, Maddox Wells, my sister’s former boyfriend and all around badass. He joined the Navy straight out of high school, served two tours, and was honorably discharged. He’s now a detective with the Austin Police Department.

  Hudson squeezes my shoulder, dragging me out of my thoughts. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “I am, too,” I mutter quietly, exhaling another sigh of relief.

  “When do you start work?” Hudson asks, lightening the mood.

  “I actually have another week before I start. I’ve got a lot to do. I bought my Jeep right away, but there’s some other stuff I need to buy.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “No, my mom and sister have taken over. I just show up with my credit card.” I run my hand through my hair, laughing and hoping my sister doesn’t max out my credit card in revenge for something that happened when we were kids.

  Hudson laughs, clapping his hand on my shoulder. He knows my mom and sister well. I look up as a shadow falls over us. A large man is standing next to the bench. He has his arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. He’s taller than my six-two frame by a few inches. His dark hair is cropped close to his head, gray eyes staring hard at Hudson. The fully inked arms cross over his chest as he tilts his head.

  “Shit,” Hudson says. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen. “I’m not late yet.”

  The mammoth raises an eyebrow.

  “It will only take me a minute to set up,” Hudson insists, waving his hand toward the man. He looks back to me and must see the confusion on my face as he explains, “I teach a basic boxing class to some kids. The class starts soon.” Hudson looks back at the guy and jerks his thumb at him as he says to me, “I volunteer, but he likes to pretend he’s my boss.”

  The man huffs in frustration, but still doesn’t say anything. I stand and hold my hand out, “I’m Liam. An old friend of Hudson’s.”

  He shakes my hand and says, “James.”

  Hudson stands now, too, smirking at James. “James owns the gym. He doesn’t talk too much, but you get used to it and can start reading his expressions pretty easily.”

  James rolls his eyes and faces me, turning his back on Hudson. Hudson laughs and tries pushing him out of the way, but the mammoth doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even acknowledge Hudson, as if he’s a fly buzzing around and not a six-foot man trying to shoulder his way back into the conversation. “Passing through?” James asks me.

  “No, man. I grew up here and just moved back from Chicago.” The tension in my shoulders eases a bit more as the involuntary sigh escapes.

  A dark look passes over James’ face at the mention of Chicago, making his features tighten even further. He gives me a curt nod. “Nice to meet you.” He walks away without another word. I look at Hudson, wondering what the hell just happened.

  “Yeah, he’s always like that,” Hudson tells me. “He’s a great guy. You get used to it. You’ll see when we grab beers.”

  “Sounds good.” A steady rhythm against a punching bag snags my attention off to our left. I look over and see a girl punching and dodging. She’s wearing a tank top and loose sweats. She’s obviously not here to impress anyone like some of the women I saw here earlier. Or like the girl following James around right now. This gir
l is focused solely on her bag and her punches are precise and efficient. A light layer of sweat shines on her creamy skin.

  “She’s not one you want to mess with,” Hudson says.

  “Do you know her?” My question comes out as a demand when I look back toward her, unable to break my gaze.

  “Yeah. Savannah. She takes a lot of classes here. Cool girl.” Hudson shrugs nonchalantly.

  “Savannah,” I whisper. She’s stunning with a strong and enticing body. Even through the loose sweats hanging on her narrow hips, I can tell she has a luscious ass. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail. I can’t take my eyes off of her. She looks up at me as if she can hear the dirty thoughts scrolling through my mind. Her eyes are a bright and vivid green with an intense gaze. She stares back at me for a fraction of a second before her gaze slips away and slides around the room as if she’s looking for someone. She’s lightly holding the bag with one wrapped hand. When her gaze falls on Hudson, she gives a nod of acknowledgement to him before she continues punching the bag.

  “I think you’re drooling,” Hudson tells me, laughing and shoving my shoulder. “I think most guys here have tried to ask her out. She’s turned every single one of them down. James keeps pretty much every guy away from her now.”

  “Are they together?” A strange, jealous feeling swirls through my gut.

  “Nah, they’re just good friends.”

  I still can’t take my eyes off Savannah. She pauses the punching again, holding the bag away from her body. She’s breathing heavily now. Her small chest rising rapidly. She scans the room again until her eyes meet mine. We watch each other for a beat until James comes up to her, hugging her briefly before completely blocking my view of her. He glances over his shoulder, and turns back to tell her something.

  I think Hudson may be wrong. Maybe they’re secretly together. I’m not going to mess with something like that. I turn back to Hudson. “Text me later about tonight.” I walk past him to gather the rest of my things and leave. When I approach the door, I turn to look at Savannah one more time. She is easily the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

  Savannah is back to punching with a determined look on her face. Right before I turn to leave, her gaze locks on mine. She gives me a smirk and goes back to the bag.

  3

  SAVANNAH

  “Looking good today,” Bruce calls out when I walk into Raise the Bar. I flip him the bird as I walk past him straight to the punching bags suspended from the ceiling in the back of the warehouse-like gym. He’s asked me out relentlessly over the past couple of years, never quite taking the hint that I’m not interested. The grunting and roaring noises he makes to attract attention to himself always make me chuckle. I’m surprised he even saw me walk in, he’s usually too distracted by his own reflection to notice anything around him.

  The women who hang out at the gym wearing very little clothing (and they don’t even work out) flock to him, hope to grab his attention or any other man’s attention, including the owner, James.

  James doesn’t like that these women come here, but he says he’s not sure he wants to limit who can and can’t come in the gym. He hosts self-defense classes for women and doesn’t want to turn anyone away who might need help. That’s how I got started at this gym. James knew I was in trouble and in need of some serious help. He coaxed me into letting him teach me self-defense. Slowly James started hosting classes. He will allow anyone into classes without signing up for a membership. Over time, James became like a brother to me. I trust him implicitly. He watches out for me while I’m here, making sure I feel safe and secure.

  I walk to my usual punching bag, drop my duffle to the floor, and pop in my earbuds. I never keep my duffle too far away when I’m here, and I never go into the locker room. It’s something I have been trying to work toward, having confidence to change in front of other people, but the scars and the ink covering them stop me. When I first started here, I didn’t think it would bother me. It’s a women’s locker room. I didn’t think I would be judged. I only took off my shirt in that place one time. I haven’t set foot in there since.

  I see Kristy following James. I grit my teeth. Her ass hangs out of her shorts. She grabs his arm and presses her boobs against his chest. I watch as he tries to disentangle himself. I love that James is such a good man, but I wish he would throw her out of here. I can’t forget what she said about me while I stood in that locker room. Naked and vulnerable. It was early morning and I didn’t think anyone else was there. The tattoo I was getting to cover the scars wasn’t even a complete outline. She said harsh words to her friend and I didn’t have the confidence at the time to reply. I threw on a shirt and marched out of the gym. I don’t have tolerance for bullies. There’s only one person on this earth who I want to confront, and he’s the reason I take self-defense classes and beat the shit out of a bag every day, everything else is just a distraction.

  I wrap my hands in tape, readying myself for my workout. I start slow, letting my muscles ease into each punch and dodge. I allow the aggression from yesterday seep from my body, every pore of skin. I don’t accept many dates. I hate that the first one I went on in a long time was with a total asshole. I hate that I put myself in that position. I hate that Kristy is here. She’s not usually at the gym when I visit. I’ve learned the ins and outs of this gym well, and I try to schedule myself to be here when others are not. And I hate that Kristy is trying to sink her claws into James.

  I’m punching with a steady rhythm now. Hard, fast, steady. A punch for each scar. A punch for each memory. A punch for each promise. I let every feeling and emotion into every punch until I am nothing but memories and vows. I’m slowly becoming slicked in sweat. A cool rush sweeps over my back. The hair on the back of my neck slowly rises. I stick out my wrapped fist to stop the bag. I’m being watched. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for whomever I find. It’s not a foreign feeling for me to think I’m being watched. I’ve spent the past several years looking over my shoulder, feeling a prickling along my spine. I haven’t ever seen anyone, but I won’t let my guard down.

  I slowly scan the entire gym. There are people spread throughout the vast space. I see Hudson and a guy I’ve never seen before looking in my direction, but I don’t think they are watching me. Hudson wouldn’t watch me. I continue my scan. No one else is looking in this direction. I swing my eyes back to Hudson and his friend, staring into his eyes for a beat. The gaze I feel must be his. Thinking I’m paranoid for no reason, I nod hello to Hudson and go back to pounding the bag.

  My hits are becoming fiercer. My paranoia of someone watching me makes me angry. I am prepared. I am ready. He’s not here. Everyone who is here belongs. Fear will slow me down. I. Will. Not. Back. Down.

  I can’t shake the feeling. My senses are still on fire. I feel eyes on me. Scanning me. I stop punching, resting my fist against the bag. I look down at the floor, trying to slow my breathing. I shouldn’t be breathing this heavily at this stage in my workout. I scan the room again, but slower this time. Bruce is still staring at himself while he curls enormous dumbbells. Kristy is standing just off the side of him stretching, her ass in the air, eyes locked on Bruce. People by the cardio area are focused, staring at nothing. James doesn’t keep TVs, he finds them distracting. I look back to where Hudson was standing. He’s still there, but he’s not looking my way anymore. He’s talking and looking at the man standing next to him.

  That man. I realize he’s looking at me when our gazes lock. I don’t feel creeped out when I look at him; it shouldn’t be his stare making me feel this way, but I can’t find anyone else looking in my direction. His dark eyes are locked on mine, not wavering. His expression is clear, giving nothing away to the reasons he’s looking at me. Before I look at him too much, a broad chest comes into my line of sight. I look up at James.

  “Okay?” he asks as his eyebrows draw in and his mouth settles into a firm, flat line.

  “Yeah, I just...” I rub my wrapped hand over my hair, look
ing down at the ground. I shake my head, silently pleading the panic will disappear.

  “Just...?” James prompts me quietly. He tucks his finger under my chin to raise my head. My eyes meet his—telling him everything without uttering a word.

  “Nothing. It’s no big deal. How are you today? Do you need any help with the dinner this week?” I force a fake smile. He sees right through it and narrows his eyes. I shake off my paranoia and change the subject to alleviate his concerns.

  “Fine. Nope.” James is a man of few words, choosing to answer each of my questions with a singular word. Even though he doesn’t say much, his presence calms me. When he chooses to speak more than a few syllables, his words pack a punch harder than I could ever hit.

  “You know, James, you have such a way with words, you should write poetry.”

  His lips twitch at the corners, holding back a smile. A smile I know he won’t unleash. His steel gray eyes are light with amusement, only for a split second, though, before he morphs his bronze face into a scowl. I know he’s not angry with me, or with my sarcastic comments. People steer clear of James, scared of that burly muscle and the fierce tattoos, but to me, he’s just a big teddy bear. He would toss my ass out of here if I ever told anyone that.

  “You should watch that mouth,” he says. “It will get you into trouble someday.”

  “Pretty sure you know me better than that, lollipop. It’s already gotten me into plenty of trouble.” He rolls his eyes at my nickname. I’m in constant search for a new sweet name that will annoy him. “Hey, who’s that guy with Hudson?”

  James peeks over his massive shoulder to where Hudson and that guy were standing. I can’t see around James’ massive frame. He swings his head back to me and gives a small shoulder shrug. “A friend of Hudson’s.”