I shook my head. “You don’t have to explain yourself, saying you were tired would have been enough.”
Amelia froze, taking in my words for a moment before she could catch her next breath. “Sorry,” she apologized.
“No need, peaches,” I said, taking a step back.
She didn’t argue or snap back when she heard me that time, she just threw her truck in reverse and left. She had never busted through the door like that, so something in the session changed. Her whole body was tense, concealing a secret almost.
I went through the door, finding Melody in the kitchen cleaning up. With her back turned she said, “You better not eat the leftover chili or you’ll be six feet under.”
I grinned. “Ah, come on Mel, you wound me.” I grasped my chest.
“Nothing could hurt you, you big oaf.” She didn’t have to turn around for me to know there was a little smirk on her.
I leaned on the kitchen island. “So, what’s going on with Amelia?”
The water turned off. “Miais fine, why?” Her head turned in my direction.
I shrugged. “Don’t know. Something was off about her. Didn’t know if you two got into an argument or what.”
“She’s fine,” Melody said flatly, avoiding direct eye contact, and quickly deflecting. Melody knew what happened and wouldn’t share.
Amelia wasn’t fine. Just by the way Melody’s body tensed up when I asked was enough evidence that there was something I missed. And I didn’t like not knowing.
I wanted to chase her and find out what she was hiding, but the sane part of me knew that she didn’t need that in her life, especially a psycho ass like me that craved violence and found outlets for doing just that. There are always two sides to a person, with me they were united as one.
I wanted to know more about her.
Chapter 3
Shooter
The way her face looked haunted me throughout the rest of the day. I tried to take my mind off of her, the only way was to move from one trouble to a whole bunch of them.
Hank and Stray had asked me to stop bySwing Low, one of the many establishments under the Saints’ name.
Swing Lowwas a well-known boxing and MMA gym in the region. A place where our boxers came to teach, spar, work on their craft, but at night we venture out to one of the warehouses where grunge matches tested every person that walked into that place.
Swing Lowwas a place where people could also leave the outside world where it belonged and could find a place where they belonged. Hank and Stray mostly ran the operations; I sat back and helped where it was needed.
I already had enough on my plate as the club’s enforcer but also the club’s main medic. Call me sentimental, but helping young fighters gave me a sense of other purpose. A man of many talents, if I do say so myself.
Stepping into the gym was more welcoming than returning home for the holidays. There was nothing but the sounds of controlled breathing from each strike and blocks, the striking of gloves, the boards under the ring bending to their wills, and mostly people shouting from the corners encouraging their fighters to hang in there and watch their openings.
“Well, well. If it ain’t the old man himself finally stepping back out of the shadows,” one of the younger fighters, Dillon, said. He liked to spar with me when he felt cocky enough and needed to learn a humbling lesson.
Dillon hung over one of the rope walls, he had this charm that had women fawning over him. Sort of made the brothers jealous on occasion.
“Oh princess, did you miss me? Couldn’t settle for one of the trolls here?” I smirked.
Stray stepped away from one of the fighters that was at one of the bags; and turned toward me with a quick embrace. The man reeked of sweat, like he had been there for way too long.
“Nope, waiting for a prince charming.” He laughed, pushing back from the ropes.
“Good thing I’m no prince charming.” I stepped up to the edge. “What are you doing here, Dillon? Don’t you have a semester that just started a couple weeks ago?”
Dillon groaned, starting to bounce on his feet. As much as the boy had talent, he didn’t belong in the underground world. He was too bright, with a future to match. I won’t lie, I got attached to the boy, and was quite protective of him.
“Don’t start this shit again, Shooter. You know that I barely keep up.” He tried to pivot.
