Reckless Retribution (West Warriors Book 1) (4 page)

“Why didn’t you call me after your shift yesterday?” Taylor pouted, as I took a seat next to her in class.

“I’m so sorry. I literally went straight home and studied.” Which was exactly what I had done—in between replaying Jamie washing his truck, of course.

“How was it?” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

I thought about telling her the truth, especially about Jamie’s hot body, but I didn’t want to because I knew it would pique her interest. She would be like a dog with a bone and wouldn’t stop until I agreed to let her come. “It was okay actually, not as bad as I thought.”
If Jamie was anything to go by!

“Any nice boys?”

“No, not yet.” I shook my head.

She sighed and sat back in her chair, clearly disappointed there was no eye candy for her.

I smiled inwardly at her reaction and wondered how on earth I was going to keep these four guys hidden from her. The professor asked us to settle down, and the assistant handed out the papers while class began. I breathed a sigh of relief she wasn’t able to press me further.

The work was heavy, and there was a lot of information to take in, so thankfully she didn’t have an opportunity to prompt me for more about the club. When we finally broke for lunch, I reluctantly agreed to go with her to meet Jake and his friends. We reached the parking lot where they were waiting, and I was thankful there was only one friend I could see with him—Mav, I think his name was. They were both acting like little kids, kicking around paper that was screwed up into balls. Misery consumed me at the thought of having to spend an entire hour with them. Taylor rushed over to Jake and playfully jumped onto his back and threw her head back, laughing when he spun her around. They looked cute, and as much as I didn’t like him, they did seem happy together. He set her down and planted a big kiss on her lips, and Mav threw the paper ball at his head, making their lips detach.

I looked at Jake’s clothing. He always dressed in the same things: black skinny jeans, black T-shirt, complete with a black cotton jacket, which buried his slight frame. I couldn’t think of a single time I had ever seen him wearing anything that remotely had pigment to it. He had short, copper wavy hair, hazel eyes, and his lips were set in a thin line. Taylor thought he was hot as hell, but I didn’t see the appeal.

We sat in the cafeteria for lunch, because we didn’t have long before our next class. I munched my way through a burrito that tasted like cardboard, while Taylor cooed at and kissed Jake and hardly touched her green salad. Mav, who sat opposite me, gave me a sympathetic look and rolled his eyes at them. We both felt like third wheels. Thankfully, lunch ended rather quickly, and I eventually pried Taylor away from Jake. We walked to our class, but not before I gave her a stern ‘I’m not impressed you dragged me to lunch and sat macking on your boyfriend the entire time’ look.

“I’m sorry, Lo. You could have made a play for Mav?”

“Ha! He’s not my type, thank you.”

“Nobody is your type.”

Insulted at her words, I called out my celebrity crushes. “Channing Tatum, Zac Efron, Bradley Cooper—”

“Real life guys.”

“Some guys on the football team are cute.”

Her eyes lit up in excitement. “Who?” She rubbed her hands together like she could see a plan forming.

I was quickly trying to think of who on the football team I could say I liked, but none of their names were jumping out at me. “I tell you what. Next time we pass one of them, I’ll let you know.” What was I getting myself in to? I wouldn’t be surprised if I was set up on a blind date by the end of the week.

“Deal.” She squealed then grabbed and hugged me.

All through our next class, she devised a list of double date ideas. Silly me, I was even contributing to them, because I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was lying.

Getting home a little after four, I decided to ask Kal if I could swap a shift and have Saturday off for MusicFest. I’d been mulling over it all day, and with him being so nice yesterday, I figured there was no harm in trying. Taylor was still begging me to go with her.

I set my bag down on the table and searched through it for my cell, and then sent Kal a text. As I pressed send, I immediately felt anxious about whether it was the right thing to do. What if he said no? How awkward would that be at work tomorrow?

My cell buzzed almost immediately, and my heart stopped. I stared at it like it was about to explode, and I couldn’t bring myself to read the text in case his reply said no. After a few seconds, I realized I was being stupid, so I read the text. He responded with a simple,
Sure
. Relief washed over me that I hadn’t upset him. I knew Taylor was going to be ecstatic when I told her.
“I’m free for Sat,”
I quickly text her.

A few minutes later, her response came through.
“Yay, it’s gonna be awesome!”

Her happiness meant a lot to me. When I first met her a little over a year ago, I had just transferred from Idaho, and she had been given the duty of showing me around the campus. I think she resented doing it because she wasn’t exactly friendly to me at first. There were lots of awkward silences as she gave me the tour, but it turned out we were doing the same degree and were in most of the same classes together. She also gave me some of her ‘helpful tips’, which included avoiding the cafeteria, classes I shouldn’t be late for, classes I could skip because the professor wouldn’t know if I wasn’t there, and which boys I shouldn’t sleep with. That last one I found hilarious. Taylor’s college survival guide.

Oddly, she never asked me any questions about myself—why I had transferred, what my story was, the usual stuff people asked, but not her. It didn’t seem important, which I kind of liked. Other people might have been offended by her lack of interest, but I wasn’t. I tended to shut down when people questioned me too much about my personal life. The less they knew about me, the better. I liked it that way. The more we walked around, the more she opened up. It turned out that she didn’t have many female friends. ‘Too catty,’ was her opinion of them.

I could totally understand where she was coming from. At my previous schools, I literally had one friend. She told me she mostly hung around her boyfriend and his friends. By that point, I had known her for all of an hour, and by then end of that hour, I felt like I had known her forever.

It was during one of my first classes I was sitting in the middle of one of the rows, when she came sauntering into the room, her shiny black hair swishing behind her as she walked. Boys’ heads turned and followed her as she passed. I expected her to take a seat near a group of guys that were huddled at the back, but she didn’t. She walked along my row and took a seat next to me, and from that moment, our friendship began, and the rest, as they say, is history.

****

Thursday, my shift at the club went better. I answered the phone more confidently, and I worked my way around the computer system. Kal went through how to wipe the equipment down, which I thought was gross, and I finished that off while he chatted to the guys and made them watch replays of their last fights. Once I’d finished, I stood behind them at the seating area to watch some of the footage. I turned away once it got brutal and bloody. I glanced over at Jamie. He looked relaxed on one of the couches, his muscular arms running along the back of it and one ankle propped on his knee. I remembered back to him washing his truck and how hot he looked. He glanced back at me, causing me to startle a little, and I quickly redirected my gaze, embarrassed he’d caught me looking at him.

Kal looked over in my direction then turned to look at Jamie and almost glowered at him. Something unspoken passed between them, and Jamie raised his eyebrows questioningly at him. The others were still fixated on the fight. Feeling awkward, I walked back around to the desk and carried on with some work.

Once Kal had finished with the guys, I double-checked that it was still okay for me to have Saturday afternoon off, and he assured me it was and that he would cover. I promised him I would work an extra day or extra hours to make up for it, but he kindly told me I didn’t need to.

By Friday, I would definitely say I was in the swing of things. I didn’t have to be directed by Kal and made my own routine up of tasks. It usually went: emails and computer work for an hour, clean the shake bar then the gym equipment, and back to my desk. It seemed simple enough, but with the phone calls, taking deliveries, and making shakes up in between all that, it was enough. Sometimes, I managed to go on the internet and study for a bit, but I was sure to close the tabs so Kal didn’t find out.

Throughout my shifts this week, I’d spent quite a lot of time watching the guys in the cage sparring and fighting. They used a lot of techniques I’d seen in self-defense classes around campus. I’d never had the guts to join in, and I hated the thought of other people watching me. I wasn’t uncoordinated, thanks to Dad. I’d gotten quite good at dodging his fists sometimes; I just felt that if I knew more techniques, it would help me get a better advantage over him if I ever needed it. Just thinking of that made me feel ill, but I knew someday a time would come when my life depended on me being able to defend myself from him, and I would rather be prepared than not. I made a point to ask Kal about some training in the morning. I trusted him, even in the short time I had known him, so I knew he would make me feel at ease.

Over the course of my first week, I got to know the boys more. Cam and Marc came over frequently when Kal wasn’t around and would ask me things like when I was graduating, my plans for after it, and what I liked to do outside of work and school. In turn, I asked them questions, and they told me fighting was their “job.” I was surprised at that. I thought they’d have jobs on the side, but they told me their whole lives were dedicated to fighting, and they got paid good money for what they did. They trained twice, sometimes three times a day for hours, ate from strict diet plans, and rarely drank alcohol, with not much of a life outside of the club, which again made me feel a bit sad for them.

As soon as we turned twenty-one, Taylor and I made sure we went out at least once a month to the local bars, and we enjoyed it. It was a chance to let our hair down from our crazy schedules.

“Do you ever go out drinking?” I asked them.

“We go out to bars sometimes. We just don’t drink alcohol much. Well, most of us don’t.” Cam directed a look to Jamie, who was putting gloves away at the side of the cage. He turned in our direction and frowned.

“What?” he asked, with a shrug.

Cam and Marc scoffed and turned back around to me. I couldn’t help laughing at him either; he was probably wondering what we were saying about him.

Leon often joined in with conversations too. He was sweet. He asked more personal questions, which, surprisingly, I didn’t feel uneasy about. I just gave him the basics, and he was happy with that. Marc, on the other hand, asked if I had any “sexy single friends,” to which Leon smacked him on the back of his head. That guy’s mouth was going to get him into a lot of trouble, and probably already did. In answer to his question, I immediately thought of Taylor, despite her being with Jake, but I just shook my head and said no. I didn’t want him trying to chase her; he seemed the ‘love them and leave them’ kind of guy. As much as Taylor could stick up for herself, I didn’t want to endure the messy aftermath.

The one person who never came over to casually talk was Jamie. He hung back a lot and was different than the others. He appeared to be more reserved and quiet, which only made me more inquisitive about him. He never asked me to make any of his shakes; it was always one of the others getting it for him along with theirs. The glances he occasionally gave me were guarded. I didn’t know if he was trying to figure me out just like I was with him. Yesterday, I made a point of trying to talk to him by saying “hey” as he passed the desk to go into the kitchen, but he just responded by nodding then shifted his gaze and carried on with whatever it was he was doing. He always laughed and joked with the guys or stopped to talk with the customers though. It made me wonder if he didn’t like me for some reason, or maybe he felt that because I was female, he thought I didn’t belong at the club. Who knew? But I wasn’t going to bend over backward to make an effort with him that was for sure.

Knocking on the door of the club, which was still locked, I hoped Kal didn’t mind me showing up earlier than usual. When he opened up, a look of surprise crossed his face.

“I wasn’t expecting you yet,” he said, rubbing the top of his short dark hair.

“I know. I felt bad about leaving early today, so I thought I would make up a bit of time.”

“You didn’t have to, love.”

“It’s okay. I wanted to.” He’d been more than generous giving me the time off when I hadn’t really earned it yet. I put my purse away and began to stock up the shake bar, which had boxes on the countertop full of products ready for the shelves to be filled. The customers came in slowly, and the phone rang intermittently. It got to eleven before I realized none of the guys had come in, and I wondered where they were. It was boring having no one to talk to besides Kal. Maybe he gave them Saturdays off?

Kal eventually made his way over to the desk, and I thought I would take the plunge and ask him about some training while it was quiet. “Kal, I was just wondering, do you do any self-defense training here?” I asked coyly.

He rubbed the small bit of stubble on his chin, pondering my question. “Not specifically like classes or anything, but I could get someone to go through the basic moves if that’s what you want?” His eyebrows narrowed slightly.

“Yeah, that would be great.” I felt really appreciative that he would find the time to help me out. His generosity seemed to know no bounds.

“Sure thing. I’ll sort something out for you.” He clapped my shoulder.