Page 120 of Nest of Thieves
“Jab, cross, jab.” He holds up the mitts and I punch. “Again.”
The door to the gym opens and Lark slips inside. I grind my jaw together and hit the mitts a little harder. His attention brushes over me from head to foot, and I want to yell:oh, so now you want to pay attention?but my anger would give him too much satisfaction. An angry flush crawls up my cheeks.
“Good. Channel that rage, mami. Jab, cross, hook, hook,” Vette says, pulling me out of my head.
I breathe out and do the combo. Vette progresses the combos until I forget about Lark watching, and all I can think about is the proper order of moves. Twenty minutes fly by and sweat trickles down my back. I’m in the middle of a harder combo when the air shifts and Lark’s scent fades. I falter a little, a fissure opening inside of my chest as he retreats.
Vette drops his hands and glares over his shoulder at the door. “Dick.”
“What’s his problem?”
“A lot of things.”
I take off the gloves and carry them to the blue bin where the miscellaneous equipment belongs. As I set them inside, I realize these weren’t here before. The guys don’t fight with gloves, and they don’t use focus mitts.
“Did you buy this for me?” I turn toward Vette.
He drops the focus mitts in the bin. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the only way I know how to make you let go of that anger, but I don’t think it worked.” His forehead crinkles, and he spins the skull ring on his finger.
“It so did not.” I shake my head. “I don’t understand why he isn’t talking to me. What did I do wrong?”
Vette’s features darken, and his scent fills with violence. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says with vehemence. “Lark’s chasing demons, and he needs to get his head out of his ass before I make sure it stays there permanently.”
I let go of some of the anger I’m directing at Vette. He’s not the one I’m mad at.
“Might make it a little hard for him to walk.”
Vette’s loud laugh warms my heart, and my mouth twitches into a smile. His eyes crinkle at the edges, and I get a glimpse of what he might have looked like as a young boy. Cute and innocent, heart full of joy. As the laughter subsides, so does that innocence. Vette isn’t a boy anymore, and the world has changed him, darkened his soul and stolen some of that light. I wish I knew who changed him. I’d hunt them down and make them pay for hurting him.
“What are you thinking, mami?” he whispers, tipping his head to the side. “Your scent is full of rage again.”
“I was thinking I’d like to find whoever stole your innocence.”
Face softening, Vette grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. “Let me make you some food.”
“It’s almost two.”
He lifts a shoulder as we head into the kitchen. “Like that matters.”
I grab a water from the fridge, but Vette takes it from me as soon as I close the door. “Hey!”
“Check the pantry.”
“Why?” I ask while moving to the pantry.
“Just check it.”
Bristling, I open the pantry and my jaw drops. There are half a dozen reusable water bottles sitting on a shelf. There’s a pretty, dark purple and black one that I claim for myself.
“What made you change your mind?” I close the door of the pantry and rinse the water bottle out before filling it with the cold water from the fridge.
“I decided I didn’t want to keep using plastic.” He grabs onions and jalapenos and places them next to a cutting board. “And an omega I know wanted me to.”
I sip on my water to hide my goofy grin. “What are you making?”
