Page 83 of Warrior's Walk
“Guys, I think that’s a great idea. Let’s get started.” My voice breaks on the last word, overwhelmed with gratitude for these men.
I’m exhausted,slurping from the straw of my iced coffee like it’s Riggs’s cock ’cause I need that extra hit of caffeine. We stayed up talking late into the night and this morning he set his alarm an hour earlier, so he could get to the gym and set up for the Warrior’s Walk.
“So you only do these every three months or so?” I ask.
“Yep, stack those weights for me, would you?”
“When do you think I might be ready?”
He looks up and gives me that shit-eating grin that says ‘I’m in charge,’ and I love it. “When I say you’re ready. You haven’t exactly been keeping up with your therapy lately with all that’s been going on.”
“I know,” I blow out of breath. “I can’t keep everything straight. Support group, work, flyin’ lessons, therapy, and now with my mama, which supersedes everything. How am I supposed to find a balance?”
“By asking for help. There’s no way you can do it all on your own. You have to delegate, ask for help, and be willing to receive it.”
He goes back to wiping down the gym equipment with disinfectant wipes, and a smile teases my lips. Watching him isone of my favorite things. The way his sinewy muscles ripple like a big cat as he moves. His arms look hot as fuck stretching the sleeves of that T-shirt. The curve of his bubble ass as he bends over the equipment. Damn, I’m worse than a stage five creeper with a toxic crush.
The gym begins to fill up with vets trying to sneak in a few minutes of warm-up before everything comes to a halt for the competition. Nash and Brewer duck inside, and that damn cat is with them, slung across Brewer’s chest in that ugly green sling.
Riggs gives Brewer a hug and tickles the cat between his ears. “Hey Valor, did you come to watch your daddy kick Uncle West’s butt?”
“Kick it? I’m going to slaughter it,” Nash jokes.
“You talking smack again?” West asks, coming up behind him and taking him by surprise. They laugh as they hug it out, and then I’m laughing when I catch the words written on West’s T-shirt. Riggs also notices, doing a double take.
He reads it out loud. ‘I walk like a warrior because I have BALLS. Do you have BALLS?’
“Fucking really?” Riggs asks, shaking his head.
“What? I got it from the gift shop,” West swears.
Riggs snorts. “I’m afraid to see what else they sell.”
“Did they have that in a double XL?” Nash asks.
“Quit yapping and go get warmed up,” Riggs snaps, smacking him lightly in the back of the head. The whole exchange makes me laugh.
West and Nash hit the treadmill to warm up their muscles. I notice Nash has a slight limp, and I wonder if I will too, even after prolonged therapy. To be honest, I don’t care either way; it doesn’t stop me from flying, which is all that matters. West has his blade leg attached, and he’s moving a lot faster than Nash. He’s also not shy about letting him know.
“Just wait till I get warmed up, asswipe. I’m gonna leave you in my dust.”
As they’re trading insults, the rest of the Bitches file in, touching and making a mess of everything Riggs carefully set up.
“Okay, everybody stop touching my shit and find a spot along the wall. Let’s get going. Nash and West are competing today, not that this is a competition,” he clarifies. “But with them,everythingis a competition, so go figure. They’ve been in my care for more than six months and have worked extremely hard through bad days and busy days and days where the pain seemed like it would bring them to a halt. I can’t tell you how proud I am of these guys. Especially West. When we met, he was convinced that I was lying when I told him he would be able to do this someday.
Riggs’s voice becomes emotional, which is uncharacteristic for him to give away how he’s feeling. Listening to him is making mefeelhow proud he is of West. I’m starting to get choked up, which is the last thing I need. I’m sick and tired of crying, dammit. But God, I hope someday I can make him that proud ofme. I hope I give him a reason to be.
Riggs continues. “I have no doubt these gentlemen will be able to complete the Warrior’s Walk today, but the real question is, who will finish first?” All the Bitches cheer, and other vets that have gathered around to watch are clapping. “We’re going to start with the mile. Both of these guys are at a point in their recovery where they can blow through this with ease. But can they do it in under seven minutes?”
“Shit, I used to do it in four,” West brags.
“Bullshit. You never ran a four-minute mile in your life,” Nash argues.
“No, it’s true. I’ve seen it,” Brandt swears. “I could never keep up with him.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got now, Wardell,” Riggs says, and then blows his whistle. The sound of their shoes slapping the conveyor belt is the only sound in the room until they hit the halfway mark, and the crowd begins to cheer them on.
“Move it, West!” Brandt yells. “Pretend like I just putTop Gunon, and you’re running from the room.”