Page 4 of Spilled Coffee

“Fuck!” The word tore from his throat, raw and guttural. It wasn’t just anger, it was defeat, humiliation, and something deeper.

He followed it up with a sharp punch to the cage frame, his palm colliding hard with the unforgiving steel. The impact sent a jolt of pain up his arm, but he welcomed it—hell, it was better than the storm raging inside his chest.

Pulling himself back from the brink of losing control, he dragged his trembling hands through his sweat-soaked hair and took a shuddering breath as he sank down onto the bench.

His calf throbbed, a biting ache that seemed to mock him every time he moved. He hissed as his fingers instinctively pressed the muscle, an attempt to knead away the pain.

Ethan wasn’t wired to express emotions like that. If he had been someone who cried, this might have been the moment to let them fall, but instead, the emotion knotted in his throat, choking off the words he wouldn’t have said aloud anyway.

“What the fuck?” The deep Texan voice boomed across the room before the heavy thud of boots announced him entering. There was no mistaking Brick’s presence, the man moved with the grace and power of a tank rolling through enemy lines.

“What the hell was Logan thinkin’?” His helmet ricocheted off the back of his cage before he appeared in front of Ethan’s door, his broad frame filling it entirely as he crossed his arms over his chest in a way that screamed both authority and concern.

Ethan didn’t answer, avoiding Brick’s gaze as he massaged his throbbing calf.

But Brick wasn’t one to be ignored. He sighed heavily, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he took in Ethan’s defeated posture. “Dude, you alright?” he tried again, softer this time.

It took a moment before Ethan lifted his head and gave a slow nod—though it felt more like going through the motions than any real assurance. “Yeah,” he croaked, his tone unconvincing. “I’m fine.”

Brick still wasn’t buying it and his lips pressed into a thin line as he exhaled through his nose. “I’m sorry,” he said firmly, but genuine. “Logan was way outta line. Hell, I don’t know what crawled up his ass today, but you certainly didn’t deserve that shit.”

“It’s fine,” Ethan muttered without looking up. “Don’t worry about me, it’s not your fault.” A sharp grimace twisted his features as another twinge shot through his calf.

Brick opened his mouth to say something when another voice cut across the room. “How’s it going?” Eddie strolled in, Tank and Gunner trailing behind him, their gear clattering as they peeled off gloves and helmets.

Eddie’s tone was casual, but it faltered when he caught sight of Brick’s expression.

“What the fuck was that about? Logan’s lost it. Pushin’ the kid like that in this heat?” Brick rounded on Eddie. “What did he think he was gonna prove?”

Eddie raised both hands in a placating gesture, though confusion flickered across his face. “Whoa, easy there,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what the deal is today. Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. I’ll talk to him.”

“You better,” Brick shot back sharply, nodding toward the door as Logan entered.

Logan didn’t so much walk into the locker room as claim it. His silence spoke volumes, and yanking off his T-shirt he tossed it into his cage without sparing anyone so much as a glance.

The room stilled, and five pairs of eyes turned to him with varying degrees of disbelief.

Logan stopped mid-step and looked up from where he’d been unbuckling his belt. “What?” His tone was already defensive.

“What?” Brick echoed incredulously before letting out a bitter laugh that lacked humor. He stepped forward again until there were only inches between them. “You’re kiddin’ me,” he continued when Logan didn’t respond. “What the fuck was that out there? You could’ve killed him running drills like that in this heat!”

Logan smirked—a dismissive twist of his lips, as though Brick’s words barely registered. “Yeah,” he said flatly after a beat. “I pushed him hard… so what?”

That answer was gasoline on an already roaring fire and Brick took the bait without hesitation.

“So what?” he repeated, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “Are you for real? You’re supposed to be leadin’ us, not grindin’ us into dust just cause you feel like it. I don’t know what your problem is,” he snapped heatedly, “but ridin’ him like that isn’t trainin’—it’s bullshit.”

Logan ran a hand through his damp hair before locking eyes with Brick again. His expression hardened, but there was something else there: resolve. “If he wants to run with Alfa,” he said, gesturing toward Ethan without breaking eye contact with Brick. “If he wants to be one of us… He has to earn it.” He crossed his arms over his chest, as if daring anyone to challenge him.

Before things could escalate, Eddie stepped between them—a barrier of calm against clashing tempers. “Enough!” he barked, commanding attention from both men. “If you pair need to keep swinging your dicks around, take it outside.”

“You saw how he chewed Ethan out. What the hell was that, man?” Brick snapped, then he too, crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles tensing with frustration. The fluorescent lights in the locker room cast harsh shadows on his face, emphasizing the tight line of his jaw.

Eddie glanced at Logan, his expression caught somewhere between unease and disappointment. “Gotta say…” he began carefully, “you were pretty damn harsh on him, brother.”

Logan stepped out of his cage, shoulders squared. “Harsh?” he repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. “So what? Did he come crying to you? That it?”

“No!” Brick shot back, his voice rising with indignation as he took a step closer. His eyes flared with heat, and his hands gestured wildly as he spoke. “I’m just sayin’—it weren’t right! You don’t have to tear someone down to prove a point.”

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