He meets me blow for blow and I block his vicious strikes against my forearms, but when he gets past my defenses and slams his strong fist against my ribs, I go down like a sack of shit. Rolling myself away from him, I scramble to my feet as Zeke saunters after me, but I’m too slow, feeling his tight grip curl around my back. Now, if the boys hadn’t taught me exactly what to do in this position, I might well and truly be fucked, but unlucky for Zeke, I don’t allow assholes to grab me from behind, not anymore.
I slam my elbow back into his gut, winding him just like Roman taught me, and before the asshole even realizes what the fuck is happening, I slam my ass back into his groin before doubling over and using the momentum to my advantage. Grabbing his arm, I yank hard, flipping his body right over my head until his back slams onto the training mat with a heavy thump.
I drop on top of him, my knee pressing against his throat as I make a pistol out of my fingers, pressing it right to his temple. “BANG! You’re dead,” I tell him, arching my brow. Despite this session being just like all the others, he doesn’t know why I’m extra pissed off and worked up. He knows I've bested him though, and that definitely hasn't happened before.
He narrows that sharp gaze again, and before I know it, his hand is wrapping around the knee that's crushing his windpipe, and with impressive strength, he throws me right off him. I barely catch myself, stumbling for a moment before balancing on two feet, and by the time I brace myself for more, Zeke is already standing before me.
Something catches my eye on the ground between us and I risk dropping my gaze to find a set of keys. They must have fallen out of his pocket when I threw him over my shoulder. He doesn’t look down at them, but a man like Zeke is aware of his surroundings at all times.
He doesn’t go after them, doesn’t even comment about them, just stares at me, knowing that I know they’re there, knowing that I know that he knows I know … fuck. I sound like an old episode of Friends.
Neither of us make a move. “You know,” he says, watching me like a hawk as he slowly begins circling me. I move with him, never allowing him to get behind me.
A breathy scoff tears from the back of my throat and I arch a brow, letting him know just how ridiculous I think his question is. “That you dropped your keys on the ground and are now trying to use them as some form of bait. Yeah, I fucking know. They’re right in front of my face.”
“No,” he says, his tone darkening, making me swallow with unease. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.” Zeke keeps circling me, and I watch him closely, not liking this one bit. The tension in the room has changed. I’m no longer his student, I’m his prey. He lowers his voice, keeping our conversation private from the other guards using the training room. “You’re focused. You’re alert, aware of your surroundings. Your reflexes are sharper than they’ve been since arriving here. You’ve counted the men in this room five times since we started, and you’ve been more interested in protecting yourself rather than lashing out, almost as though you won’t risk an injury. Plus, you’re looking at me as though I might decide to pull the fucking trigger at any given point.” Zeke gets back to where he started, looking me dead in the eye as he positions himself directly in front of the security camera. “You know.”
I shake my head, my eyes narrowed on him as my body screams with unease, unsure where the fuck I’m supposed to go from here. My heart races, every other noise in the training room fading away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Zeke scoffs. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a shitty liar?”
A wicked grin pulls at the corner of my lips. “All the fucking time.”
Zeke’s gaze drops to the keys on the mat before slowly coming back to mine, and just like that, his muscles tighten, and I brace myself for another attack. He races toward me, and I meet him in the middle, his hits harder, more forceful, and coming at me a million miles an hour. I groan and grunt, trying to keep up with his advanced level but he quickly gets his hands on me, throwing me down to the ground.
He comes down on top of me, his heavy body slamming into mine and forcing the air out of my lungs with a quick whoosh. I cry out, the pain all too real as my eyes widen with fear. I might not have admitted to knowing about the boys, but he’s made it all too clear that he knows I showed up here ready to fight. He knows that I’m ready to bust my way out of here, and he knows that I’m prepared to burn this fucker down to the ground to make it happen.
I’m fucked.
Zeke pulls back, flipping my body and slamming me back into the cushioned mats, pressing my face into the ground, the keys right in front of my eyes. His knee comes down on my spine as his hand curls around the back of my neck, pinning me down. And although I’m pressed into a soft training mat, I can assure anyone who’ll listen, there’s nothing comfortable about this shit.
Zeke leans down, his movements putting more pressure against my spine. He doesn’t stop until he’s hovering right by my ear, his big body blocking both me and the keys from the security camera by the elevator. “Run,” he murmurs, his voice so low I have to strain to hear it. “Take the fucking keys and run. Don’t ever come back here unless it’s to put a bullet through her fucking head.”
My eyes widen, my breath coming in sharp, pained gasps, and no sooner than he slammed me down onto the mat, he tears away from me. “We’re done here,” he snaps before turning his back and walking away. He doesn’t look back at me and I’m wondering if I just heard what the fuck I think I just heard.
Not taking any risks, my hand shoots out like lightning, scooping up the keys left abandoned on the mat.
7
Fuck. This is stupid.
This is so fucking dumb, but what choice do I have?
I pace through my bedroom, my finger slipped through the circle key ring, flipping the keys back and forth in my hand, exactly as I’ve been doing since the moment that I arrived back in my room over twelve hours ago.
Zeke is Gia’s second in command, he is her most loyal follower, her soldier, and lover, and now I’m supposed to trust that he would give me the resources I need to get away with a warning that if I were to come back, it better be to murder the woman who’s supposedly my mother.
WHAT THE EVER-LOVING FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE?
One. I can’t trust Zeke. I don’t know enough about him to assume he has my best interests at heart. Nor can I trust the key in my hand. The thing could have a GPS tracker in it, same goes for the car it belongs to. If I were to somehow get out of here, I’d have to ditch the car and find something else, but that shouldn’t be too hard. At least, I hope.
Two. What if this is some elaborate set up? What if I try to make my escape only to find Zeke and Gia waiting for me on the other end, gun in hand and a bullet in the chamber?
Three. Gia Moretti isn’t a woman I want to cross. No one in their right mind would want to cross her, but I don’t know what choice I have, not after hearing the bullshit I heard last night.
Four. Roman, Levi, and Marcus need me more than anything and there’s absolutely nothing that’s going to stand in my way. To hell with Gia and her snake-like tendencies. My mind is made up. I’m going to rescue my boys, I’m going to save their lives, and when they’re strong enough to stand with me, we’re going to tear down the whole Moretti empire.
The familiar rumble of a motorbike sounds through the walls and my head whips around to my bedroom window. I race across the room, my eyes wide and alert as I continue to fidget with the keys, the anticipation and anxiety almost too much.