Page 55 of Surrender
I could hear myself now. It was almost like a wheeze, each breath short and sharp, not quite reaching my lungs.
“Find me,” he said, a little quieter this time, and slowly but surely, my eyes began to focus until they locked with his. He was crouched in front of me, his hands holding tight to mine. “In and out.”
I let him anchor me there, breathing with him, finding that rhythm that brought me back from the edge of hell.
“You aren’t number seven,” Nate said firmly. “You’re right here with us, and we are going to keep you safe.”
“You know, it’s not my job to bring bastards like him tojustice,” Bishop said, rubbing his hands together. “But I’ll sure as hell make destroying him a fun side project.”
Chapter Nineteen
BLUE
“Blue, seriously, where the hell are we going?” Patrick grumbled as I marched six teenage boys out of Brawlers and across the street.
Ryder elbowed Patrick in the ribs. “Chill, man. I’ll take a field trip any day over cardio.”
I scoffed loudly as I stepped up to the large glass double doors that led into Lucy’s Dance Studio, pulling one open and ushering the group inside. “Oh, you’re still gonna be doing cardio,” I told them, earning me a chorus of groans. “It’s just gonna be a different kind.”
“Hot damn,” Ryder muttered as we stepped into the dance studio to find Darcy on the floor, her legs split as she leaned forward on her elbows, casually texting. “Now this is what I’m talking abou… ow!”
My palm collected the back of his head, and he leaped back, rubbing at it.
“Be fucking respectful,” I snapped, turning to the rest of them. “Y’all hear me? Because I’m gonna be getting in the ring with anyone who runs their mouth or complains. And we won’t be sparing, we’ll be boxing.”
The group of them tried to act tough, like they were ready to go one-on-one with me, but it wasn’t surprising that when Darcy got to her feet and wandered over, they all quickly fell into line and paid attention.
Me included.
Though it was hard to follow my own rules when all I wanted to do was pick her up and carry her out of there. The soft pink tights and matching leotard were one thing, but there wassomething about the floating skirt she had tied at her waist and the way it fluttered as she moved that had me swallowing back a few fucking cuss words and readjusting my jeans.
“Sooo,” she said as she approached, drawing out the word as she examined the group in their sweatpants and wife-beaters. “I must be missing something.”
I nodded to the boys, fighting a smirk. “You needed more work. So, this is your class for the morning.”
Darcy’s eyebrows shot up just as the boys whipped their heads toward me, expressions of horror plastered across their faces.
“Blue, seriously—”
“No way, man, I can’t be seen doing this shit—”
“I’m not wearing no tights—”
“Enough!” I snapped, my voice echoing off the walls. “This is non-negotiable. You wanna continue working with me? You do the training I set out.”
Ryder shook his head furiously, backing toward the door. “Nah, man, I didn’t come here to be humiliated.”
With these kids who grew up around the streets, image was everything. When you were in the ring, though, it didn’t matter if you looked like the strongest or the weakest. No, it was the skills you had and the fight that you had in you that mattered the most.
Those lessons, though, were the hardest to learn.
I let out a disappointed sigh as he headed for the door. “Ryder, if you—”
“You know,” Darcy cut in smoothly, raising onto the tips of herpointeshoes. “Ballet and boxing really aren’t that different.”
The boys’ eyes widened as she moved—her quick, tiny steps keeping her perfectly balanced, shoulders back, eyes forward. Controlled. Effortless.
The way every boxer should want to look in the ring.
