Page 93 of Damaged Protector
Chapter 28
“I’m such a dick,” I muttered, punching the red leather bag again and again. “Such a fucking dick.”
“What’s up, dickface?”
I spun around, black-boxing-glove-clad hands held up and at the ready. Shoving out a long breath, I relaxed my stance and grunted at the owner of the gym. “Shut up, Mike.”
“You said it, not me,” he replied easily, tugging on his own pair of gloves, though his were red.
“I said dick, not dickface,” I clarified, swiping the sweat from my forehead with my arm.
“All the same. Let’s work out whatever’s bugging you in the ring.”
Eyeing him up and down, I nodded. “You look like you could use a good ass kicking tonight.”
He laughed heartily and bounced up and down on his toes a few times, ready for the challenge. Mike Garrity was a former Army Ranger, and at age forty, he was built like he could still go to battle any given moment.
And battle we did. We were both skilled fighters, and almost an hour later, we were drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. My ribs were sore, and Mike’s lip was bleeding.
“I’ve never seen you this aggressive,” he remarked, tossing me a water bottle. “I mean, you always go hard, but goddamn, Hawk.” His tongue darted out to brush against the split I’d put on his lower lip with a particularly nasty right jab.
“I’m always in control.” After that night with the asshole I’d almost killed for trying to rape my sister, I’d honed my anger into a meticulous sharpening of my fighting skills. I didn’t regret what I’d done, and I knew that’s what made me a fucked up sonofabitch.
That’s what my mother had called me anyway, and the mentality had stuck in my brain.
“You were on the edge of that control tonight,” Mike mused. “What crawled up your ass and died?” He sank to a rickety white folding chair and ran a hand through his hair, which was recently beginning to sport a few grays mixed in with the sandy brown. I took the chair opposite him, wincing when it whined at me with a loud creak.
“You need new fucking chairs in here,” I grumped, not for the first time.
“It’ll have to wait. I just bought new towels.”
I leveled him with a flat look. “If you would charge us for using the gym, you could afford both.”
He waved a hand and let out a “bah!” sounding like a grumpy old man. “You know I don’t charge other vets. Plus, you guys installed my security system for free.”
I shifted on the creaky old chair. “Good thing we did. Wouldn’t want anyone stealing these shitty chairs.”
He laughed good-naturedly and grabbed two small white towels from the rack beside him before throwing one at me. “These babies are nice though, don’t cha think?”
Swiping the copious amounts of sweat from my neck and chest, I said, “Yeah. Very plush. Can’t wait to wipe my sweaty balls on them.”
Mike scowled at me while dabbing at his own soaked chest. “You gonna tell me what’s eating you?”
“This isn’t a therapy session,” I argued.
“This place is one giant therapy session any time we step through the doors. That’s why I opened it, my man.”
Turning my bottle up, I drained half of it with glugging noises before leaning my forearms on my thighs and looking down. “What would you do if someone fucked your… sister?”
“Well, my sister is thirty-five, so…” He allowed that last word to hang in the air like a question, but I didn’t answer it. “Is someone messing with Jennifer? If so, I’m ready to roll at any time. I have a friend with a chopper, and I keep my license current. We could be in North Carolina by dawn.”
Glancing up, I shook my head and tried to hide my smile. Mike had met my sister once when she came to visit, and he’d been clearly enamored. I hadn’t seen him with a woman since his wife had died six years ago, so maybe he had just flirted with Jenn to annoy me.
“Jennifer is fine,” I assured him. “I’m asking for a friend who’s struggling with some things.” Finding it hard to meet his eyes, I looked back down and spoke to the water bottle held loosely between my fingers. “What if a friend of yours slept with your younger sister? Hypothetically speaking.”
“Did this hypothetical friend already do it?”
“No, but he wants to.”