“What was all the commotion earlier?” He comes to stand where I can see him. The gym is dark except for the small light over the boxing ring and heavy bags.
“Ellie and I had a disagreement.” I jab with my left then uppercut with my right.
“About?”He drags out the word.
“About whether the wilderness is a dangerous place or not.” I kick the bag, and it swings left.
“Excuse me?” Jett raises his eyebrows.
I hit the bag in succession until my biceps hurt. “She tried to run. I punished her.” I slam the bag square in the middle.
“Run? Where?”
“The door was unlocked. She made it all the way to the foyer. She’s freakin’ quick. She had me sprinting.” I catch myself smirking. Jett notices too.
“Bit more of a challenge than you expected, huh?”
“Yeah, you can say that.” I concentrate on hitting the black bag, trying to avoid all eye contact with Jett.
“She gave you a run for your money? That’s why you’re in here punching a defenseless heavy bag at three am?”
I glare at Jett. So much for avoiding eye contact. He’s fishing. I hate it when he fishes. I wish he would just let me punch out my emotions and be done with it. But no. Jett believes in talking. Getting your feelings off your chest and all that kumbaya crap. He thinks he’s my personal fucking shrink and has been analyzing me since the day we met.Skinny prick.
“No, I knew she wouldn’t get far,” I tell him point blankly.
“So what’s the issue?”
“No issue. Can’t a man just work out in the middle of the night?”
“A man? Yes. You? No.”
“Jett!” I holler as I punch. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Do you remember the last time you didn’t want to talk about something? A very innocent fishing boat was blown up.”
I stop mid punch. “I take no responsibility for that. The pin on the grenade popped by itself.”
“Sure it did.” He crosses his arms and looks at me like I’m full of shit. Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.
“Besides, better the fishing boat than us. Right?”
“Yes,” he agrees.
“Damn straight.” I clam up and go back to slamming the bag. Jett just stands there eyeing me.
When I take a moment of reprieve, he strikes.
“So nothing’s bothering you?” the calculating motherfucker questions again.
“Yes, something’s bothering me. You.” I kick the bag, the frustration blistering under my skin.I don’t want to talk!
“I always bother you, it’s what I live for. And I’ll pester you all night until you spill. I don’t want another explosive catastrophe.”
“Jett,” I warn, crackling like a live wire. He needs to lay off.
“Kayne!” he shouts shoving the black bag in my face.
My emotions burst. “I punished her okay! I picked up a goddamn paddle and beat her ass!”
