Page 107 of Retaliation

Two weeks. Phillip’s mind raced. It wasn’t much time. He stepped closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension in her muscles.

“We’ll get through this. Together. But you know you do not have to accept,” he said, his voice a low, fierce promise.

She met his gaze, and he saw the fire in her eyes, the same fire that burned within him. This wasn’t just about survival; it was about proving their strength, their resilience. He couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for her, his warrior, standing strong even in the face of such danger. He turned to Gunnar, his voice commanding.

“We need a plan. Gun, I want you to gather every piece of information we can get on Reaper’s recent fights. I’ll start organizing the training schedule. We focus on endurance, speed, and counter-attacks. She needs to be ready for anything.”

Everyone fell silent, tension reaching a boiling point. Eventually he broke the silence, his eyes locked on Poison.

“What style of fighting is Reaper trained in?”

“Krav Maga,” she replied, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a flicker of doubt. “He’s been all over the world, training in all types of different styles, but he favors Krav Maga.”

He studied her, noting the determination in her stance despite the weight of her words. She wasn’t done yet. She might have said that she was going to let go of her plan for revenge, but he knew she couldn’t and he didn’t blame her.

“He knows my fighting style, but I haven’t seen him fight for over ten years.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly, the enormity of the challenge clear in her eyes. He stayed close to her, their hands entwined. The reality of Reaper’s challenge loomed over them.

“I’ll train you,” he said.

She looked up at him, surprise and hope mingling in her gaze. “What?”

“I’ll train you,” he repeated, his eyes intense. “I’ve been doing martial arts since I was five. My father sent me to different training camps. I know a few variations of styles, but I have a black belt in Krav Maga. I can teach you.”

She stared at him. “You would help me?” Her smile, full of awe and gratitude, lit up her face and made his heart cramp.

“I would most definitely,” he reassured her. “Let’s give Reaper a run for his money.”

Before she could respond, he bent down and kissed her, a brief but fierce connection that left her breathless.

“As sickeningly sweet as that is,” Gunnar began, and for a moment, Phillip had forgotten about his presence. “You two are so busy with each other that you’re forgetting she’s still incompetent with that arm of hers in a cast.”

“We’ll see how incompetent I am when I punch you again, this time with the cast,” she warned, her eyes flashing with challenge.

“Watch your tone,” Phillip growled, then realization struck him, making his head snap toward her.

“Wait, you punched him?”

She answered with a proud smile that had him grinning back at her.

“I would have paid to see that,” he laughed, feeling a swell of pride and amusement.

The image of her landing a punch made his heart swell. He loved her fierceness, her unapologetic spirit.

Gunnar rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, next time, she might want to aim better. I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

Phillip’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“She’ll get plenty of practice. Trust me.”

Her laughter joined his, a sound that eased some of the tension that had been building. “You bet I will.”

Phillip turned serious, his gaze locking onto Poison’s. “We’ll work around the cast. I know it’s a disadvantage, but we’ll make it work. We start tonight. I’ll speak to my boss…” he trailed off, his mind already racing.

“Oh yeah? About what?” She looked up at him, her eyes questioning.

“We’ll use his gym to train you. It’s got everything we need,” he said, slipping into combat mode, his focus narrowing on the task at hand.

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