“I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk as much,” Seth replied, as he started whittling the block of wood.
“We’ve got a fight this weekend,” Ian said, glancing his way. “You’re welcome to come watch. Seth said he was going to teach you the basics. So knowing that, I think it would probably be good for you to see how real men fight before he shows you what it’s like when boys do it.”
Alex laughed as Seth flipped Ian off, chucking the wood he’d been whittling at Ian’s head. The other man caught it, barely lifting his gaze, and tossed it back.
“Yeah, I’d like to go,” he said.
When they first took him in, he’d been bad off. But his health had slowly improved in the two weeks since he woke up to find himself in their spare room. He’d watched them train, separately and together, and he’d become more and more curious about how it worked at fights.
Surely they didn’t pit these fighters against the humans. Talk about an unfair fight.
Alex jerked upright in bed, eyes wide, but not really seeing his bedroom in front of him. His body shook, and he swallowed painfully around a dry throat as a scene played out in front of him.
“Where the fuck is he? It’s been five weeks!”
The small man frowned up at the much larger man in front of him. “I don’t know yet, Ivan—I mean Your Excellency. There’s been no sign of Kincaid so far.”
“Did he find the girl? Fucker probably thinks he can keep her for himself.”
The smaller man paced around the mostly empty room. “He wouldn’t be so stupid. He knows we’d kill him for such an offense. I don’t know where he disappeared to, but I’m sure he didn’t find the girl.”
“I want him found, and I want him disposed of,” the brute said, slamming his fist hard onto the table, leaving a dent in the already banged up metal. “And I want her found, as well. No more excuses. She’s escaped her destiny for long enough. Heads will start rolling if I don’t see results soon.”
The scene faded to black, and Alex’s bedroom at Rocky River was abruptly in focus again. Gasping, he ran a shaky hand through his hair, feeling deeply disturbed over whatever the hell that was that just happened.
He got out of bed and slipped his shoes on, not bothering to put on a shirt, and left the room in his jogging pants, intent on going to the barn. He hadn’t had much of a chance to train with Seth this week, but he didn’t need to be good to hit the bag and get some of his confusion out, and maybe work through the weird dream while he was at it.
The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon as he let himself out of the house and walked to the gym. Once inside, he stretched his arms, and then pounded his frustration and fury out onto the punching bag.
His arms were weak when he finally paused for a moment, only feeling marginally better, but he needed to catch his breath before he went for round two.
Panting, he wiped the sweat from his forehead as he thought about his dream, if that’s what it was. One of the men said his name, but the timeline didn’t add up, if it was really something that was happening and he was suddenly, inexplicably clairvoyant. The man said he’d been missing for five weeks. He wrecked only three weeks ago. It didn’t make sense, unless it took him two weeks to get from wherever the men were to here, and that seemed unlikely.
None of it made sense, not the least of which was his gut reaction. Something inside him was hissing and spitting, warning him he needed to stay hidden, and protect the girl at all costs.
He punched the bag again, as hard as he could. Did he find the girl? Fucker probably thinks he can keep her for himself. Maybe he should treat the dream like it held clues as to what he was here for. So he was looking for a girl. Somehow the man’s words didn’t suggest he was in Eagle Creek to deliver a fruit basket.
“You’ll hurt your hand if you keep hitting that hard, Alex.”
He blew out a breath, trying to compose himself before he turned to face Cammie.
She was standing a few feet away, looking soft and adorable in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, her long reddish-brown hair in a tangled mess falling past her shoulders. She looked like she just got out of bed, and he immediately pictured her in his own. The image made his dick thump in his pants, and he willed it down, not wanting her to see him getting a hardon when she hadn’t even touched him. She studied him for a few moments before turning, making her way to a shelving unit against the wall. When she came back, she was carrying strips of fabric.
“You need to wrap your hands when you hit with that kind of aggression. You could hurt, or even break, them if you don’t. Hold out your hand.”
Alex gave her his right hand without saying a word, watching her bent head as she wrapped his hand. She finished and gestured for his other hand, and he held it out for her.
“You’re still doing it wrong, too. I’m surprised Seth hasn’t taught you better yet.”
She finished, stepping back, and Alex looked at his hands, flexing them to get a feel for the wraps.
“He hasn’t really showed me a lot so far. Mostly I’ve been watching him as he trains. He said he wants to beat Jax or Ian this weekend, so his focus has been on that.”
Cammie snorted. “He needs to be out here twenty-four-seven then, if he wants a shot at beating them,” she said with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she laughed. “No, seriously, Seth is a good fighter, and he can beat them when he focuses. But he gets too cocky, too into the fight, and rushes in without thinking things through. Ian and Jax have a lot more muscle mass than him. When they land a hit, which is often, because he lets them get too close, it’s powerful. He needs to use his brain and be more cunning, not rush into it.”
“So brawn and size aren’t all there is to a fight,” he said, throwing an experimental punch at the bag.
“No, not at all. I mean, you can’t let your thoughts take over and distract you. That’s a quick way to get beaten, too. But you have to be smart about it. Instinct plays a big part, but you also have to use your brain.”