Reckless Retribution (West Warriors Book 1) (22 page)

“Can I take you on a date then?” The creepy guy leered.

“No,” I said with confidence, now that I knew I was safe.

Before I knew it, Jamie had grabbed hold of the back of the man’s neck a little too harshly, causing him to startle. He turned him around to face him. “Beat it, Max, before I knock your fucking teeth out,” he growled.

Max put both hands up in front of himself, palms out, and Cam took a step toward him. “Just asking the sweet little thing out on a date. Where’s the harm?” he asked, as he rubbed his balding head while backing out of the shake bar.

Jamie also took a step closer to him. “Get the fuck out of here,” he seethed and began to walk up in Max’s personal space, forcing him to walk backward toward the exit. He flinched as Jamie reached past him for the handle and opened the door. Max turned and walked out, letting it close behind him, not daring to take a look back. I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Cam before walking into the back room to take a few breaths. That was some scary shit.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?”

I closed my eyes at the sound of Jamie's voice. I didn’t want to hear it. Keeping my back turned, I shook my head and fixed myself a glass of water, hoping he’d go away.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t okay, and now it didn’t have anything to do with Max. It was him. I couldn’t look at him, because if I did, I’d break. Hurt and longing for him consumed me, and I wondered when the pain would stop. “I’m used to feeling like a piece of meat,” I said, putting my glass in the sink and walking past him, leaving him standing in the kitchen.

“Let us know if he bothers you again,” Cam said, as I sat back down at the desk.

“Thank you,” I muttered, not really caring anymore. I then heard Jamie slam his hand or his fist into a locker door, which created an almighty boom. Cam raised his eyebrows and looked toward the back room. I pretended not to notice and pulled out a folder from the shelf to check through some invoices. Seconds later, Jamie stormed out of the kitchen and headed back toward the gym, Cam quickly following behind him. Jamie was saying something to him while they were walking, rubbing the back of his head agitatedly and throwing his hands out to emphasize whatever it was he was saying.

This was your fault, Jamie. Not mine!

Half an hour before my shift was due to end, Cam came to the desk and waited until I ended the call I was taking. “Do you want to train with me?”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. He’d never offered since Jamie took over from him in the beginning. In a way, I was glad Cam
had
asked me because there was no way I wanted to train with Jamie. “Okay,” I agreed. The vent would do me good.

“Yo, Marc, can you cover the desk?” he shouted, looking over to where he was standing beside a treadmill.

“Yep,” he yelled back.

I felt awkward that they were stopping what they were doing just so I could do some training. “Look, Cam, you’re all supposed to be training. Kal will be pissed.”

“Kal’s not here. It’s fine, trust me.” I paused, not sure. But I didn’t argue because it never got me anywhere with them. “C’mon.” He nodded to the cage.

I stood from my chair and followed him into the cage. I didn’t get the same buzz standing in it with him, but at least I’d probably focus better. We warmed up, stretching our legs and arms first.

“Right, we’ll start with the gloves.”

“Okay.” I liked the release I got from boxing.

“Jay, bring a set of gloves and pads,” he shouted over to Jamie, who was working on his abs. Stretching my left arm across my collarbone, I watched him direct a death glare at Cam. I switched arms, still watching Jamie’s childish facial expressions, as he reluctantly stood up and plucked a set of gloves and pads from the storage unit, dragging his feet as he walked into the cage where he thrust them out to Cam. I found it so hard looking at him that my stomach churned.

“I’m gonna do my arms then we’ll swap.” Cam darted out of the cage as quick as he could, leaving us both standing there.

I was furious and opened my mouth to protest, but I didn’t want to give Jamie the satisfaction, so I closed my mouth and didn’t bother saying anything. Cam walked over to the weights, sat down, and began attaching the free weights to the bar. He definitely knew about us. I bet Jamie had bragged about it, and this was Cam’s way of making us talk and forget about it so ‘golden boy’ wouldn’t get into trouble. How dare he set us up like this? Clenching my jaw, I looked at Jamie. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was biting his bottom lip, nodding to himself like he was gearing up for a challenge. All I could think was that he deserved to feel this awkward. Opening his eyes, he grabbed the pads from the floor and slowly put them on his hands. I bent down and picked my gloves up from the floor, and my stomach continued to churn. We stood there in silence, looking anywhere but into each other’s eyes. I strapped the gloves on, occasionally glancing up at him, but he could barely look back at me.

When we were ready, I heard him take a deep breath and put his hands up at either side of his head. When his eyes finally met mine, it was torture. I shook the feeling away from me and used his hands as an invite to show him how angry I was. Barely giving him the chance to blink, I pounded my fists as hard as I could. I wanted to hit him in the face and cause him pain so he could suffer like I was, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I tried to keep my focus on his pads and kept delivering blows. I struggled, avoiding eye contact, because I needed to watch where I was punching, and it was painful every time our eyes met. All I could think about was how good his mouth felt on mine. How nice his lips trailed kisses down my neck. I hated how he made me want him, beg him. But I’d obviously been nothing but a conquest. When the burning sensation in my arms got too much, I stopped and placed my hands on my knees breathlessly.

“Take your gloves off.” His voice was small. I did as I was told because I wanted it to be over as quickly as possible. I tossed them to the floor, and he walked to the center and did his usual ‘run at me’ gesture with his hands, but I didn’t want to touch him or be any closer to him than I needed to be, so I firmly said no and meant it. Setting his hands on his hips, he raised his brows and irritation flashed in his eyes. He was annoyed I wouldn’t do what he wanted.

Dropping his hands, he stalked over aggressively, coming to a stop close in front of me. Too close. I could feel tears pricking my eyes. I didn’t want him near me. I was desperately trying not to breathe in his scent because it was clouding my thoughts and bringing back more memories. I fixed my eyes on his white Hollister T-shirt and stared at the red logo on his pec. I could feel his ragged breath blowing strands of my hair as he breathed in and out. I willed myself not to cry.

“Push me away from you,” he snapped, leaning in and forcing his weight against me.

I cringed at the contact; I didn’t want it. I needed him away from me. I drove both my palms into his chest, pushing out at him, making him move backward slightly, but not enough to get his body completely away. He pushed farther, and the smell of him was choking me, reminding me of how close I’d been with him. I pushed him away with every bit of strength I had, but it wasn’t working. “Push me away now,” he growled through gritted teeth. He seemed so angry like he had all this anger toward me, and I didn’t understand why. I was the one who should be angry.

What did he have to be mad about? I looked up at him, and I swear I could feel hate in my eyes. Taking a step back, I used it as leverage to shove him harder than I ever thought was possible and managed to move him back further. He grabbed me and threw me down to the floor, and his body came over mine, planking me.

“Get off me now!” I yelled at him. He was suffocating me, and I didn’t like it at all. I turned my head to the side so I didn’t have to look at him. The last time we lay like this, he was inside me, in his bed, and with every passing second, I was reliving it over and over. I wanted it to stop. I wanted the memories to go.

“Make me, Lauren.” His voice was quiet again but laced with challenge. Barely keeping myself together, I curled both my fists. I would make him get off me. I wouldn’t care if I hurt him. I’d hit him once, and I was about to do it again. I didn’t understand why he was being like this. I repeatedly punched at both sides of his ribs as hard as I could, trying to get him off me, but he was having none of it. His body was rigid, and I was having no effect on him whatsoever, which further ignited my frustration.

Defeated, I dropped my arms and steeled myself to glance up at him, only to find his angry look had gone. His expression had softened, and he looked like he was at a loss and didn’t know what to do. A slight frown crossed his face, and his once beautiful, deep brown eyes were not clear like they usually were. They looked somewhat clouded, like all of his emotions were experiencing some kind of internal storm that was reflected in them. It stirred feelings for him that I had tried to push far away.

I wanted his poker face back. I could deal with that. Jamie showing his real emotions scared me because it was something he never did. I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I doubted he did either. My irritation crept back up that I was starting to feel sorry for him when I should be feeling sorry for myself. I forced myself to scowl at him. “I hate you. Get off me,” I croaked.

He nodded, agreeing with me. “I know you do.” He closed his eyes then slowly opened them again. “I’m so sorry. Believe me, you don’t know how sorry I am,” he whispered.

Tears filled my eyes at his sudden apology, and I quickly looked away from him. I didn’t want to show him how much hearing him say that had affected me. I’d done so well keeping it together so far, and he could apologize all he wanted; it wouldn’t change anything. I’d never trust him ever again.

Putting my hands underneath his armpits, I tried pushing him off me again, but all that did was shake the tears from my eyes. I felt vulnerable letting him see me cry. Straightening his elbows, he moved farther away, and I hoped he was getting off me. I looked up at him expectantly, but he was still hovering over me with that remorseful look still on his face. His eyes followed the tracks the tears had left down my cheeks, and he swallowed deeply. His bottom lip and chin began to twitch slightly, and I could see that his body was trembling.

Needing to get away from him, I threw my knee up close to his balls, and when he buckled, I shoved him as hard as I could to the side, making him fall with a thud. Wiping my face, I stood up and walked out of the cage and past Cam, who quickly looked in the opposite direction. I didn’t care he’d been watching us. His clever plan failed. I risked a glance back to Jamie through the metal, and he was sitting, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. Part of me hated seeing him like that. It wasn’t who he was. He was a strong, confident guy.
And a user….

I grabbed my things from my locker, catching sight of the locker door Jamie had plunged his fist into. It was now sporting a huge dent.

Good luck explaining that one to Kal.

When I got home, I went straight upstairs, closed my curtains, and did what I needed to. I cried. I’d held most of my tears back all day, and now I needed to release it all, privately.

I must have cried myself to sleep, because when I woke up, it was dark out. My eyes felt heavy and were no doubt puffy, and the weight of Jamie was still very much on my mind. I knew it would take more than a few sleepless nights and bawling sessions for the hurt to go completely away, and I prayed it happened sometime soon. Wondering what time it was, I leaned over to my nightstand and switched on my lamp so I could find my cell. Seeing that it was 6 p.m, I knew I needed to drag my sorry butt out of bed because I needed to get some studying done. Doing just that, I made my bed, gathered my books together, and put them in a pile on the bed while I went down to fix dinner.

Stirring the soup, I couldn’t get Jamie out of my mind, replaying his somewhat heartfelt apology to me. I couldn’t work out whether he was being sincere or not. Remembering the broken look on his face certainly made me believe he was being honest with me, but a niggling doubt made me wonder whether he was trying to make peace so I didn’t tell Kal. I needed Taylor’s help right now. I’d helped her countless times with her boy trouble, and now I was the one who needed the help, only I couldn’t breathe a word to her because she hated Jamie.

I didn’t know what to do. Should I accept his apology and try to salvage what was left of our friendship? I certainly couldn’t give him another chance to be more than friends, and I certainly couldn’t continue avoiding him—not while I still worked at the club anyway. The soup began spluttering and boiling over, bringing my thoughts back to my dinner. Turning the stove off, I prepared two bowls with spoons. I served one to Dad and handed him a few bread rolls to go with it before I settled down at the table to eat mine.

After tea, I showered and changed into my pajamas, ready to study for finals, which were getting closer. Sitting back on my bed, I crossed my legs and picked up my first book, and a big sigh escaped. I really wasn’t in the mood for studying. A sudden thud at the window had me jumping out of my skin. Eyes wide, I stared over and wondered what the hell it was. Putting the book down, I cautiously walked over to it and moved the curtain aside. I peered out, but it was so dark that I couldn’t see anything.

Damn bats.
It wasn’t the first time I’d had one fly straight into my window.
Sitting back on my bed, another one hit the window, but this time, I chose to ignore it and opened my book to the page I needed. Grabbing my pen, I started jotting down notes in my notebook, and the thud came at my window again, this time with a little more force. I sprang from my bed, teeth clenched, cursing them. Yanking my curtains open, I shoved up my window with a little more force than necessary and looked down to the ground, expecting to see a small dead family of bats on the grass. Did they all have a suicide pact or something? Then a freaky thought popped into my mind. What if another one flew straight at me while I had the window open? I shuddered. Looking down at the ground, I froze when I saw a figure standing beside the tree below my window. Instantly, my blood ran cold and my heart rose into my chest.
Who the hell was that?