The chain rattles with every hit. Sweat drips from my hairline into my eyes. I don’t bother wiping it away. I can’t focus on anything but the bag in front of me.
I need to burn this feeling away. I need to get control of this.
Since the Valentine’s event nights ago, Sawyer still hasn’t talked to me. I didn’t have to work Saturday or Monday, and I know I’m scheduled to go back tomorrow.
I wonder if his bakery is busy. I hope it is.
I shouldn’t be worried about any of this. Why am I worried about it? I have a damn job to do.Cold-hearted asshole. “Stupid,” I mutter between breaths. “Stupid. Fucking. Dumbass.” Every word punctuated with a strike.
Hit. Punch. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about the way he felt. The way he looks. Or the way those angry words hurt worse than a knife to my face or a belt to my back.
I should just tell Ivan I couldn’t find it. It’s not there. I just can’t do this anymore. What is he going to do? It’s not there. I’ve been in every area of his house and shop.
Katya comes to mind.
I have to do something. “This . . . is . . . fucking . . . stupid.” Pain ricochets up my arm. “Dammit.” I sag against the bag.
He’s just a fucking guy.
He’s driving me insane.
This right here. This is exactly why I’ve avoided bullshit like this. It’s useless. It’s not that it’s even matters. People bore the shit out of me, with their stupid fake problems and bitching. They don’t know how good they have it. They’re tedious. This is torture.
Even if I could give in, where does that leave my sister? As long as Ivan’s breathing, she’s not safe.
“Damn. Does that bag owe you money?” I lift off the bag, looking at Cam as he descends the steps. “Or are you imagining it’s that hot guy who was into Sawyer at the event?”
“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be home?”
Cam shrugs. “Bo’s having Noah friend time and Jamie’s busy. I’m just killing time until I can pick him up.” He grabs a pair of gloves. “You wanna spar?”
“Dammit.”Cam throws his arms up, sweating like a motherfucker as I pummel away. “The fuck did I do to you?” He swings hard, and the thing about Cam is he’s strong, but he’s no fighter. There’s no rhyme or reason to his swings. I have purpose when I fight. I know where to strike, where to attack.
I know how to end shit.
Cam’s weakness is in his ribs. I hit him there and it slows him down, a lot. The sounds of our leather gloves echo around the room. They’re sharp and aggressive but do nothing to calm the war in my mind.
Maybe if I hit him harder . . .
Yeah, that should work.
Cam’s breaths come out in steady bursts. “You’re swinging like you’re trying to knock me out!” he breathes. Sweat clings to his chest.
“Maybe I am.”
Cam blocks a hit then shoves me backward, letting his gloves drop to his side. “Seriously, what the hell, man?”
“What?” I take off my gloves and grab my water bottle. My brow lifts as I squirt water into my mouth. “What!?”
“Spill.”
I watch him, and my first instinct is to fight and deny. I’m just tired. It’s all bursting inside me. The other night was the best night of my life. Still, telling Cam... No thanks. “It’s nothing.”
Cam rolls his eyes. “Try again. I know something’s wrong.” I sag against the ropes, deciding what to say. As far as people go, Cam’s pretty safe. Yes he’s loud and obnoxious, but he’s also not the worst person. I guess. “Doesn’t have anything to do with a certain baker now, does it?” He grins, wiggling his thick brows.
“I hate you.”
“Fuck off, you love me.” Cam drags a large hand down his stomach. “Irresistible. At least that’s what Bo says.”
