Sutton huffed a sigh and rolled her eyes. “No, like physically. I need to hit something.”
I frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I can hold my own.”
“Sutton, I have ten inches and probably a hundred pounds on you.”
“Lane,please.”
Well, hell. When she begged like that, eyes glassy with tears I knew she’d never let fall, there was no fucking way I could deny her.
“Fine,” I relented at last. “Go change and meet me downstairs.”
I headed to my room, quickly switching out my jeans and sweater for black joggers and a black sleeveless tee. Then I retreated to the basement, digging through the bins until I located a set of gloves for Sutton and my focus mitts. If she wanted to spar, we’d spar, but we’d do it on my terms. There was no fucking way I’d ever take a swing at her. This would have to be enough for her to take out whatever was brewing inside her.
Footsteps on the stairs had my attention snapping up, and Sutton appeared.
A Herculean effort was required to keep my eyes above her collarbones, which were exposed by the narrow straps and low neckline of her sports bra. I definitely couldn’t let my gaze linger on the swells of her breasts, pressed up by the tight fabric. Or the stretch of exposed, toned abdomen.
Clearing my throat awkwardly, I handed her the gloves that would protect her knuckles but leave her fingers free. I’d been about to offer to help her put them on, but she surprised me by expertly strapping herself into them.
Okay then.
I grabbed the focus mitts and slid my hands into the straps, barely getting them up before she came flying at me.
Sutton had a lot of energy to burn; I’d noticed that upstairs. Somehow, though, her movements remained controlled. Without my direction, she walked herself through several combinations, like she’d done this before. Her punches, jabs,and crosses were well placed, each with a surprising amount of force behind them. I braced myself better, my arms vibrating with each impact.
For a long time, the basement room was filled with the sounds of her harsh breathing and the smacks of her fists on the mitts.
This woman was a goddamn enigma. She seemed so sweet and innocent on the outside, but it was merely a facade, a front to protect the depth within that she clearly didn’t want people to see.
When I dropped my arms, needing a break from the onslaught, Sutton bent in half, her breaths sawing in and out of her.
Shedding the mitts, I grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge I kept down here and tossed it to her. She caught it easily, twisted off the cap, and guzzled half of it in one go.
“You’ve done this before.”
She grinned, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I took quite a few classes after the rape.” She said it so matter-of-factly, the lack of intonation in that final word doing more to clue me in on her emotional state than if she’d had to choke it out. “I wanted to be able to knock a man on his ass if one ever touched me again.”
There were so many things I wanted to ask. I wished I could crawl into her mind and pick through it like a raccoon through a dumpster, gorging myself on all of her deepest thoughts, feelings, and desires.
I wondered if she felt this too. The fuckingagonyof being near her and unable to touch her, to hold her the way I wanted.
This admission certainly explained her reaction to me crowding her against the wall after the gala, though. Like she couldn’t stand to be trapped or overpowered. Pieces were starting to click into place.
Sutton had walls up, and I didn’t begrudge her that. She’d suffered something unimaginable, and she’d spent years protecting herself the best way she knew how.
How did I make her believe she was safe with me?
Opening my mouth, I attempted to say something—anything—to convince her, but she stopped me before I could.
Capping the water and tossing it to the side, she knocked her fists together and raised her hands into a fighting stance.
“Hands up, Chief. Let’s go again.”
I barely got them raised before she lunged, coming at me harder than she had before. This time, there was less finesse to her movements, as though something inside her had snapped, unleashing the beast she kept carefully hidden. It was all I could do to withstand her. I’d never admit it out loud, but my palms fuckingburnedfrom the relentless impact of her fists. Soon, she devolved completely. I’d been so focused on her fists that I hadn’t been watching her face, and only a sob tearing free from her throat had me looking up. Her polished form from our first round was completely gone. Now, Sutton was swinging just to swing, and if she kept going like that, she was going to hurt herself.
When she choked on another sob, I dropped my hands and reached for her, holding her tightly as she attempted to continue punching me, albeit weakly.
