Page 20 of Strike
Someone grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.Hamish.
“Come back for more?” I drawled.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, his stupid Irish face hardly had a scratch on it. “You didn’t eventry.”
“You want to know why I never fight you, ginger?” I said, snarling.
His lip curled. “This oughta be good.”
“Because I made a promise to Lori,” I declared, the vein in my forehead twitching.
Hamish’s expression darkened, and he shoved me back against the wall. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
“A year ago, when you were too busy pushing her away, I went and saw her.”
The fighter’s eyes narrowed. He was an inch away from punching my face in for the second time that night. This time, all it would take was a little slap around the mouth, and he would drop me like a stone.
“What we talked about is none of your fucking business,” I went on. “But I promised her I would leave her alone, and she would never have to see me again. Letting you fight me? It would pull me back into her world. I may be a total dick, but there was no way I was going to hurt her again.”
“Then why did you just fight me, Storm?” he said with a snarl.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”I could do with a little punishment. Like hell, I was telling him that.
“You never deserved her,” he said, his eyes darkening.
“Yeah, but the way you’re acting right now? She doesn’t deserve that, either. I can only hope you cut the crap when you go home to her.”
“You don’t know anythin’ about us, Storm, so shut your mouth.”
“You’re right,” I said to the Irishman. “I don’t know.”
Hamish blanched and leaned back slightly. That was the last thing he’d expected to come out of my mouth, but I was so done with keeping my mouth shut. Being the local punching bag had worn so thin it was translucent.
“I’ve kept my head down,” I went on, anger rising thick and fast. “I’ve pushed everyone away. I punish myself for my stupid-ass mistakes every fucking day. I can’t go pro. I can’t get a real fucking job, and my name means shit… Hell, I just let you fight me so you could finally shut the fuck up about how much of a twat I was to your girlfriend. What else do you want from me, Goblin?What the fuck else do you want?”
He stared at me, his expression changing so fast I wasn’t sure he knew what he wanted, either.
Finally, he said, “Get the fuck out of my face.” Stepping away, he strode down the hall and disappeared into the change room, leaving me leaning against the wall.
Wiping the back of my hand against the cut over my eyebrow, I didn’t even hiss when it stung. Glancing at the blood on my hand, I thought about Callie and her green eyes.
I shouldn’t have gone tonight. I could never live up to the hero she believed I was. Not when my past kept punching me the face.
My stomach rolled, and I barged into the change room. Ignoring the hushed whispers, I locked myself into a stall and immediately threw up.
It was nice to meet you. I’ll see you around.
9
Callie
Slamming the front door closed, I stomped into the kitchen and dumped my handbag onto the table.
“Uh-oh,” Macy said, leaning against the counter. “I don’t like the look on your face.”
“What are you doing home so early?” I asked. “I thought you were going to be out late.”
“Change of plans,” she replied, looking me over. “Everybody bailed at nine. Pussies.” She rolled her eyes. “For a bunch of highly strung accountants, you think they’d get blind drunk on a Friday after work, but no… They’re all in bed by nine thirty.”
