Mack’s hands clenched into fists.
Parole?
What the fuck?
“I guess it takes two or three weeks for all the paperwork or whatever to go through. But yeah. By the end of the month, he’ll be out. Sorry, man. I’ll keep an eye on him for you and give you regular updates.”
“Fuck!” Mack barely stopped himself from throwing his phone across the fucking room.
He raked a hand through his hair and stood up, pacing across his room. The Devils must have paid someone off to get Bone out early. Motherfuckers. Bone had been in for a double homicide he’d committed when he was nineteen. Sentenced to twenty years. And they were gonna let the bastard out after sixteen?
Mack kicked the frame of his bed and it screeched as it moved across the floor. It wasn’t enough. He felt like ripping apart the whole damn room.
He leaned over with his hands on his knees. Calm down. He needed to calm the fuck down. So he thought he’d have a few more years to prepare. So what? Nothing had changed, not really. He’d gone over his plan a million times in his head. He’d just have to act sooner rather than later.
And in the end, Danny ‘Bone’ Jones would still be dead.
In the meantime, Mack needed to smash the fuck out of something. He leaned over and yanked his boxing gloves out from underneath the bed. Then he jogged down the stairs and toward the back barn where Xavier had let him set up a bag.
He wailed on the bag for half an hour or more. Instead of releasing his tension like it usually did, though, each hit only seemed to make his blood burn hotter. In two or three weeks that murderous, raping bastard would be back on the streets. Mack slammed the bag again, immediately pulling back for another punch.
“I saw you training Torpedo earlier.”
Mack startled at the soft voice. He jerked around and saw Calla standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall of the barn.
“You’ve got a gentle touch. You were good with him.”
Sweat poured off Mack’s brow and down his chest. He leaned over and grabbed his shirt from where he tossed it earlier to mop himself off. He didn’t look Calla’s direction again.
“Can we talk?” she asked.
“Got nothing to say.” He tossed the shirt back down and reared back for another swing at the bag.
“Well I do.” She sounded impatient. “I didn’t like how you just left like that the other night.”
Mack didn’t respond, just let loose a series of jabs.
“Liam says you’re a coward and we should forget about you.”
Mack’s hand fisted tighter in his gloves. Of course that’s how that fucker would spin it. Mack stretched his neck to try to ease some of his tension. Still he didn’t look at her. “Guess he’s right,” he said.
“Bullshit.” Her voice was like a whip and he felt her take another step toward him. “I was there that night. At the dance. I saw you laughing. Having a good time. Then it’s like some switch flipped. And I haven’t seen the guy I first met that night in the kitchen since.”
Finally he turned to her. She was back in her overalls with a skimpy little tank underneath. She’d tried to tie her hair back but it was escaping all around her face. Her cheeks were pink, probably from the heat. Mack’s cock twitched remembering how her cheeks had looked the same when he was burying himself inside her. And the look on her face—that mixture of shock and pleasure, everyone of her reactions playing out on that expressive face of hers.
Mack clenched his jaw and he swung for the bag again. “So now you want to stand around and talk about feelings? We had fun the other night. Then I moved on. End of story.”
“Is it?” She took a step toward him and put her hand on his forearm to stop his next jab. “Because that guy I first met? The man I danced with? I really liked him. He was someone special.”
Mack felt her words in his gut. Special? She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. The only special he had in him was being especially good at kicking the shit out of people. He glared at her. “I was trying to get laid. That’s all.”
Calla shook her head as he talked and he could see the stubborn written all over her face. It was a familiar expression. Ben used to look like that when he wanted something. “It was more than that,” she said. “I don’t know much but I know that.”
Mack turned back to the bag. Fact was, he couldn’t look at Calla now without seeing Ben.
Just one more reason to shut this shit down. “Oh yeah?” he sneered. “And why do you think you know anything? You were a goddamned virgin. Fuck, most teenagers have more experience than you. Besides, three months from now, I’m outta here. Right after the competition.” It was the conclusion he’d come to about fifteen minutes into wailing on the bag. He respected Xavier enough to finish what he’d committed to with training the mustang. But after that, he was out. The grim reaper was coming for Bone, and Mack would be the one to introduce them. “I don’t need any complications between now and then.”
Calla put her hands on her hips. “I don’t have to be a complication. I’d like to be your friend.”