Instructor Corr nods, and Saint lets him go. Corr swipes at the blood pumping from his nose, and naked anger oozes from every pore. I doubt he’ll heed Saint’s warning once the guys leave, but I’ll take whatever he throws at me and throw it back with added venom.
“You okay, princess?” Saint probes my neck with his fingers, inspecting my skin for damage. It’s hysterical because we both know he’s not opposed to choking—if he’s the one with his hands around my throat.
“I’m good, baby,” I purr, snaking my arms around his neck and pressing my body into his. Figure I might as well play this up so the other assholes know I’m off limits. Especially Bryant, because he’s entertained notions of us in the past. I want zero distractions this week, and holing me up in the middle of the woods with a bunch of violent, horny wannabe gangsters means guaranteed grabby hands and sleazy proposals.
Saint reels me into his arms, slamming his lips on mine in a domineering kiss I feel all the way to the tips of my toes. “She’s ours,” he growls when our lips separate, slicing a look through Bryant.
He didn’t saymine. That’s progress.
Sliding his hand lower on my back, he palms my ass, and I roll my eyes. “Anyone lays a finger on Lo, we’ll put a bullet in your skull.” He glares over my shoulder in a pointed direction. “That especially applies to you.”
“You find this shit attractive?” Bryant asks, blatantly ignoring Saint.
I twist around in Saint’s arms, arching a brow. “What girl wouldn’t?”
“A sane one?” some stupid guy with messy strawberry-blond hair says. Saint takes a step toward him, and hostility rains down on him from above. I don’t need to look up to know the guys are shooting daggers at him. A burst of warmth spreads across my chest, and I can’t deny how good it feels to have backup after so long going it alone.
“It’s time to move,” Instructor Corr says, saving the initiate from a Saint-style throat punch.
“We need to talk,” Saint says, releasing me. “Don’t wander off after the maze.” He lifts his head up, piercing Bry with a look. “You too, asswipe.”
“Fuck off. I’m not answerable to you.”
“Like hell you’re not.” Saint takes a step toward him, but I push him back, cautioning him with my eyes. I’ll handle Bry, I silently convey. A muscle ticks in Saint’s jaw before he lowers his mouth to mine, pecking my lips as he eyeballs Bry with a dark glare.
“You’re interfering with our schedules,” Corr says to Saint. “I’ll mark that on my report.”
Saint scoffs. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”
“Go.” I nudge Saint back. “I’ll meet you afterward at the maze.”
I feel Saint’s eyes glued to my back as we follow Corr through the entrance and into the assault course.
My eyes scan the ground in front of me. There are a couple low walls at the start, then a rope wall, and a high wall beyond that, but that’s as far as I can see. I purposely don’t look up at the guys, even though I know they are there, because I can’t afford to lose focus.
I cast a sneaky glance at the competition. The four guys in my group are strong and tall, but my smaller weight and height should work to my advantage with some of the obstacles.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Instructor Corr whispering in one of the initiate’s ears—the same guy who mouthed off back there. As Corr’s mouth works overtime, he shoots daggers in my direction. I hadn’t intended to make enemies here, but it’s obvious I’m not wanted, and I doubt if I keep silent and act like a Goody Two-Shoes that the outcome will be any different.
Being female is the biggest obstacle I must overcome this week.
The instructor blows a whistle. “Line up. On my count.”
I block out everything around me, pressing one foot forward and stretching my other foot out behind me, poised and ready.
Corr counts, and when he gets to three, I bolt forward, jumping over the low walls with ease. Pounding feet keep pace with me, and while I need to keep aware of the other initiates, I won’t let myself get distracted by their progress because that dilutes my focus. So, I keep my eyes ahead and concentrate on the tasks as they arise.
I climb the rope wall with skill, but the high wall proves more challenging because I have to stretch to reach the markers. When I pull myself over, Bry and the guy with the strawberry-blond hair, the one Corr was whispering to, are already on the ground and moving toward the row of tunnels.
Taking a risk, I jump down the bottom half of the wall instead of climbing down it, grateful when I land firmly on the ground. I scramble to the tunnel, entering mine a few seconds after the guys have entered theirs, crawling through it, using my elbows and my knees to propel me forward. I emerge like a bullet from a gun, adrenaline charging through my veins as I plunge headfirst into cold, muddy, brown water.
My eyes sting, and I swallow a mouthful of yucky water. I thrust up to the surface, and the instant my head is above water, a hand pushes me back down. Fighting instinct, I let the asshole hold me under the water while my hands move sluggishly in front of me. Grabbing hold of his dick through his pants, I twist hard. The pressure releases from my head, and I resurface, spitting out water and gasping for air.
“You fucking bitch,” the guy with the reddish-blond hair says.
“Come at me again, and you’ll know all about it.”
Splashing sounds behind me alert me to the other two guys, and I forget the asshole cradling his sore dick and swim across the lake. Up ahead, Bry is hauling himself out of the water, heading for the balance beams and the hanging frame. I plow through the murky water, pushing my arms and kicking my legs as fast as I can.
