Grumbling under his breath, Mav walks to the ropes. He says just loud enough for me to hear, “Try it, and Doc will be wirin’ your jaw shut.”
Taz finds his response hilarious.
I readjust the heavy bag on my shoulder and as I do, it knocks a wrench on a shelf and sends it clanging to the floor. I cringe as the noise echoes and both men turn toward me.
There’s no point in hiding anymore, so with my head down I trudge forward until I’m a few feet from the ring.
Taz leans with crossed arms on the top rope and peers down at me. “You wanna go a couple of rounds with me, little stray?” The side of his mouth lifts. “If it’s your first time, I’ll take it nice and easy on ya. Go as slow as you like. Don’t worry, it only stings for a sec.” His cunning smile tells me he’s not talking about boxing.
Rolling my eyes, I say to Mav, “I’m ready when you are.”
His eyes pierce me where I stand as they take me in. He blinks, but doesn’t say a thing. In fact, I’m beginning to doubt he heard me at all. His head is tilted down and he’s looking at me through those thick, black lashes, which make his eyes appear darker than normal. Bringing one glove up to his mouth, he bites the strings to loosen them while keeping his eyes on me.
“How about you throw a few with Mav? Or is it Luce? I’m so confused.” Taz grins and glances at Mav, then back to me.
I shake my head. “No. Pretty sure he’d hurt me.” Mav’s eyes narrow further at that comment.Maybe because just a few hours ago he promised not to hurt you anymore.
“I’ll hold him while you get a couple good licks in,” Taz offers.
I can’t deny that hitting Mav, getting a little revenge, sounds satisfying.I smile a little to myself at the thought. I look up to see Mav scrutinizing my face. He lifts his hand and scrapes his thumbnail over his bottom lip. Meanwhile, his eyes run down my body and back up.
My core tightens and my nipples turn rock hard.
A wicked smile slides across his mouth and my heart quickens. “You want a piece of me, Doll?” His accent stretches his vowels and the gruffness of his voice sends a pleasant flutter through my lower abdomen.
Damn him. Even though my brain is screamingYES, I say, “Nope.”
Maybe it’d be better if I wait for him outside. The fresh air might help me keep dirty thoughts from running rampant through my mind.
“C’mon. Here’s your chance at a free shot. Time to let out some of that fire you keep under wraps,” says the devil’s pit bull.
“Fire?” The word has chills rising on my neck.
“That Irish temper, Doll,” Mav replies.
“Time to be real, little stray,” Taz adds.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask incredulously. “That I’m usually fake?”
They share a look, some kind of silent communication. When they look back at me, Taz smirks. “Why do you think he calls you, Doll?”
What?
A hot and heavy rock hits the bottom of my stomach. My gaze swings to Mav. “That’s why you call me Doll?” I knew it wasn’t a compliment. But I thought maybe, it was about my height.
Mav glares at Taz for a moment then his gaze swings to me. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re not denying it, are you?” Grinding my teeth, I wait for his reply. His silence drives me to act. “One punch,” I say, dropping my bag to the floor. “If I hit you, you’re not going to do anything?”
The side of his mouth twitches as if to smile. “I won’t move a muscle.”
Taz helps me put on the gloves. I’m fired up and ready to lay into Mav until I turn around to face him. When I meet his eyes, I freeze as doubt circles through me.
What if this is a trick?
He steps closer. “Eye for an eye. Blood for blood. How shit works here. I owe you this, Doll. I spilt yours. Do your best to spill mine.”
Then I realize I’m forgetting one vital thing. I have no idea how to throw a punch. I mean, I get the mechanics, but I heard of people breaking their hands throwing a punch and the last thing I need is a broken hand.