Page 64 of Triple Threat

Cold radiated out from the center of my being and I asked him again, “Where. Is. He?”

He was galvanized into some sort of action, letting go of my hand, striding with his uneven gait to the glass desk and smashing his blunt fingertips into keys. The monitors flickered and I felt my mouth go dry.

Of course he would set them as the monitor’s background as well…

Roan muttered something about Lach being a twat and I couldn’t agree more.

“Home gym,” he said dispassionately, and I whirled, my anger carrying me in long strides.

“Sadie, wait!” Roan called, but this wasn’t something he was going to be able to stop me from doing.

Years of pent-up anger and frustration came pouring out to the fore, the closer and closer I got to the home gym. I strode through the door to the sounds of Kyle fucking Lachlan bench pressing or whatever and when he caught me out of the corner of his eye, he let go of the bar and let it glide up into its natural position on the machine.

“You’re! Like! A! Little! Boy!” I shrieked at him, slapping at him in punctuation of every word and hitting him in his gross sweaty chest while he laughed and laughed.

It just served to piss me off more and I redoubled my efforts to drive the point home, letting fly and scratching his cheek.

He grabbed my wrists and swept my feet out from under me, and we went crashing to the mats on the floor where he pinned me, as I screamed my savage rage into his face, stopping to pant with the fire of my emotion.

“If you’re going to hit me, you might as well learn how to do it right,” he said, pecking me on the tip of my nose. He got off of me and leaped lightly to his feet. Limber, like a cat, with a grace I would never possess.

I got to my feet, and he wrapped his hands around my hands balling them into fists and putting them up.

“Put ‘em up, yeah, just like that. Thumbs out, like this.” He held out his fists, and I mirrored him. He nodded, oblivious to the fact I was still seething.

“Okay, now punch.” He made a jab to demonstrate and hit only air.

I used one of the first lessons Kyle Lachlan ever taught me. I made to punch and while his attention was on my hand, I swung my back leg forward and upright between his legs.

I was honestly surprised he didn’t see it coming. His arms snapped in, hands going to cover his junk as he face-planted into the mats at my feet.

“Rip the wings off some other fly,Lach!” I spat at him to Roan’s booming laughter from the home gym’s doorway.

I felt angry tears prick the corners of my eyes as I swept past my new lover and halfway down the hall where I stopped to hug myself.

“Well done, Poppet! Well done,” he praised me, his hand falling on my back. I shivered, and he applied gentle pressure to get me moving.

“Let’s just skip breakfast and get out for a bit, yeah?” he asked, and I nodded mutely.

“Yes, out; away from that… that…mutant.”

Roan chuckled, and we went to my room. He waited for me as I cleaned up and got dressed and thankfully, we didn’t see Lach as we left the house. We climbed into Roan’s fancy James Bond car and left the great mansion on the bay behind.

“We’re leaving the city?” I asked, perking up as he turned us onto the Bay Bridge.

“Aye,” he agreed, nodding sagely. “Some distance from Lach will do us both good, I think.”

I gave a dubious laugh and smoothed sweating palms over the tops of the thighs of my jeans. I felt out of place in them, my Converse, and my plain tee-shirt and wool sweater that Roan had provided me. I slid my eyes over my lover in the driver’s seat of the luxury car.

My lover.

Wasn’t Lach, too?

Shit.

I closed my eyes and Roan took his hand off the gearshift and reached over, folding it around my hand.

“Bless. The look on his face! I’m right proud of you, lovie. You stood up for yourself.”

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