Page 100 of Shadowman
I find myself nodding. Relating in a way.
“What about you?” He steps in closer.
He likes to be close, this one.
The urge to back up is strong, but I ignore it, allowing him to push into my space. He holds out his hands, and it takes me a moment to register that he’s waiting for me to tape his knuckles for him. I’m immediately smacked upside the head with a memory…
But I don’t want to think about that right now.
Sucking in a secret breath, I take his hand in mine. Nerves are bunching, and I’m trying hard to pretend it has nothing to do with touching him. How cool and soft his skin is, or how long and slender his fingers are… They’re very masculine and proportionate to his size.
These are nice hands…
Stuffing away those thoughts, I wrap tape around his knuckles as quickly and asprofessionallyas I can.
“Yea, I’m a fighter.” I answer his question. “I’ve been practicing Tae Kwon Do since I was a boy. I’m also into Jujitsu, Moi Tai, Krav Maga… most Mixed Martial Arts. You name it, I’ve done it. I was planning to become a trainer before…” My words trail, but he gets the point.
Trevel’s brows lift, that glittering purple stare moving from my face to his hand. He looks beyond impressed. “Wow… So what you’re saying is, none of these other blokes stand a chance?”
My mouth slopes into a small grin I can’t get a handle on. It feels good to be acknowledged. To have someone focusing onmefor once.
Plus, I like his accent, and his British words.Reminds me of my grandfather.
Crushing my smile, I let modesty tug me back to earth. “I don’t know about all that.” Returning to my task, I take his other hand and wind tape around to cover his knuckles. “It’s been a while…”
“Shame.” His tone goes soft, and I peer up to find him gazing down at me intently. “That you don’t get to do what you enjoy…”
His fingers brush my wrist, and I shiver.
Michelangelo.
I taped his knuckles for him… That night.
Dropping his hand fast, I step back, clearing my throat. “Yea, well… Welcome to fucking prison, right? You’re, uh… all set, by the way.”
The way he stares is weighted with curiosity and dazed wonder. Any time his eyes are on me for more than a few seconds, I start to feel all hot and fidgety inside. Thankfully, cheers and roars give me an excuse to turn away and get my bearings.
It’s starting.
Stalking over to the circle, I can sense Trevel scampering after me. “Do you have any advice for me?” he asks over the noise. “I’m really more of a lover than a fighter.”
I gawk at him like he’s insane. “Don’t go in there trying tolovethese guys to death. You’ll get your ass handed to you. And not in a nice way.”
“Ooh…saucy.” He bites off a grin, and I just shake my head.
He is a bit of an odd duck.
I allow the violence to distract me from the warmth that won’t stop creeping up my neck and into my face any time he’s around.
It’s not him. It must just be the excitement of the fight, that’s all.
It’s normal to feel awkward around such a… compelling new character.
Trevel and I stand side by side, watching two inmates, Valcic and Jermaine, beat the shit out of each other. I can tell this is something Trevel’s never been presented with by the way he’s sort of flinching and wincing every time one of them takes a heavy hit.
He doesn’t seem affected by the blood or the pain they’re inflicting, but more by the senseless violence. Fighting without purpose, I guess.
By the next match-up, he’s leaning in to ask me questions.Often.
