Rules of Entanglement

by Gina L. Maxwell

  Soon Frank broke up the group and harassed the guys into starting their warm-ups. They did a bunch of jump-roping and jumping jacks, then dove headlong into suicide sprints. The entire camp of men worked their asses off, giving their coach one hundred and ten percent of their effort, and sweating enough to soak through their clothes five times over.

  They took a five-minute break to rehydrate before they split into groups. Jax was in the group to hit the cardio circuit first. After that he’d move on to agility, strength, grappling, striking, and sparring. Leaning on the wall across the gym where he’d stashed his gear, he chugged his Powerade while trying to figure out why every cell in his body urged him to go to Vanessa and spend the few minutes of break he had left with her.

  For that reason alone, he stayed right where he was. Enjoying her company and being eager to get her beneath him for some more fun between the sheets was one thing. But the need to take whatever opportunity he had just to be on the receiving end of that smile was a foreign feeling he wasn’t sure what to make of. So he’d prove to himself he didn’t in fact need it. That he was fine right where he was.

  The double doors leading to the parking lot swung open and a lean kid barely old enough to drink legally sauntered through with a heavy gym bag slung over his shoulder, pushing his mirror-black sunglasses onto his head.

  Coach glanced at the clock on the wall then glared at the kid sharply enough to cut right through him. “Akana! Who in the hell gave you permission to walk into camp whenever you damn well please?”

  Chewing on gum like a cow with cud, Danny Akana offered an apology about as sincere as a lion to a zebra before his first bite. “Sorry, Coach. Overslept. Won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t,” Frank said with a finger jabbing the air in the kid’s direction. “Or next time you’ll be scrubbing everyone’s jocks after practice.”

  Akana held both palms out in a sign of concession, but as soon as Frank turned his back, the punk made a jerking-off motion with his hand.

  The kid was the son of one of Frank’s oldest friends, which explained Frank’s leniency with him. If any of the other guys had pulled that shit, they’d be punished physically until they puked, passed out, or both. Jackson didn’t know Akana well, as the kid had only been with the gym for a couple of weeks, but he knew enough to know that he didn’t like him. He was cocky and disrespectful, and Jax couldn’t wait for the day when someone knocked him down a peg or two. Or out.

  “One more minute, fellas!”

  Jax drained the rest of his drink, then crossed to the water fountain a few feet from Vanessa to fill the bottle before heading to the treadmill. She’d kicked the flip-flops from her pedicured feet and brought a foot up to rest on the chair with her arms wrapped around her bent leg. She looked like a pixie princess in casualwear perched on her leather throne while overseeing her subjects.

  He grinned as he studied her profile from the corner of his eye. A pixie. That’s definitely what she reminded him of with her wild hair, pale skin, and graceful willowy frame. Even her facial features gave her an elfin look. Her pert nose turned up ever so slightly at the end, her lips were full but not overly wide, and her ears had the slightest of rounded points at the top.

  But her personality was anything but delicate, and anyone who got in her way learned real quick the age-old lesson of never judging a book by its cover.

  Just as he turned to head to the treadmill, Jax caught a sight that held him in place. Akana had approached Vanessa and was now flirting with her. But it wasn’t the harmless kind. He was actually making a play for her.

  Jackson’s muscles clamped down on his bones. Unable to stop himself, he strode over, prepared to send Akana off with a threatening glare every man understood meant back the fuck off.

  “The kid bothering you, V?”

  She glanced up at him with a smile and said, “Not at all. Danny here was kind enough to offer me his services. He said he could show me how the local boys do it around here,” she said with enough sarcastic innuendo to choke a donkey. Or embarrass the hell out of a dude who’d obviously been a little crude with his come-ons.

  Jax glanced at Akana, gauging his reaction. “Awfully neighborly of him.”

  V nodded. “Wasn’t it, though? Unfortunately, I was just about to inform him that I don’t do anything with boys, local or otherwise, and I already have a man for the job.”

  Well, color him shocked as hell. The kid’s jaw shifted back and forth, no doubt grinding his molars into a fine dust, and his face looked a little too flushed, considering he hadn’t done even a single jumping jack.

  “You heard the lady, junior. Job’s taken,” Jax said. “Now go start your block training before Coach has you scrubbing my jock with your toothbrush.”

  Akana didn’t say anything with his mouth, but his eyes said a whole lot of fuck you. Jax just raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge, daring the kid to start something, but soon he spun around and stalked off in the opposite direction.

  “Nice work,” he told her with a wink. “You doing okay?”

  “Are you kidding?” she said as she stood and stretched. “If I’d have known watching sweaty men with gladiator bodies could be so entertaining, I’d have done this years ago. Next time, I’m bringing popcorn.”

  He chuckled and stepped in to her. He couldn’t help himself. The hand not holding his water settled in the dip of her lower back as he bent his head to her ear, using the pretense of needing to whisper so he had an excuse to feel her skin and inhale her citrusy scent. “We can leave whenever you want. Say the word and I’ll pack my gear.”

  “Aw,” she said with a pout in her voice. “Are you tired already? ’Cause that’s okay if you are. You shouldn’t feel like any less of a man for it.”

  His head fell back on his shoulders as he let out a quick oh no she didn’t laugh. Then he sobered and gave her his warning with his lips brushing her cheek. “That’s the start of your punishments for later, woman.”

  Making a sound like she’d just bit into a Godiva truffle, she took a step back and gave him a saucy wink. “You might just wanna keep a running tab for those, stud.” Then she smacked his ass before walking away and loudly informing the entire gym they’d be “eating their junk for lunch” if they stepped foot in the locker room within the next five minutes.

  A dozen men froze in place, suddenly wary of their pretty mascot and no doubt afraid for their “junk.” Realizing her casually tossed threat turned out to be quite the showstopper, she laughed, the tinkling sound echoing on the tile walls as the door closed slowly behind her.

  Every other man in the room may want to turn tail and run from a bold and sassy woman like Vanessa, but Jackson had the exact opposite reaction. He wanted to tackle her to the nearest surface, strip her naked, and make her scream his name.

  And he would, too. Maybe not now and maybe not in the next few hours. But soon.

  He felt his boxer briefs shrinking and huffed a sigh of frustration as he headed to the cardio area. “Wonderful,” he muttered. “Now I have to do a ten-mile run with a hard-on.”

  Fucking hell.

  He was in so much trouble.

  …

  Vanessa felt like a complete ass.

  As Jax worked through his training routine, her jaw worked at not gaping in awe. She wanted to kick herself for not paying better attention when Lucie had talked about her brother’s and Reid’s fights over the years. She hated being ignorant in any situation, and at the moment, she felt like the biggest ignoramus on the planet.

  He’d already done so much in the first couple of hours: sprints with bungees attached to him, swinging a sledgehammer onto a gigantic tractor tire, and flipping said monstrous tire end over end for what seemed like an eternity.

  With each exercise, his muscles flexed and rippled as he isolated them in different motions. They reminded her of the waves rolling and undulating toward the shores. His body was a beautiful machine and though he poured with sweat and his chest h
eaved with labored breaths, he never once slowed down or even complained when given a task. Instead, it seemed as if he pushed himself harder with each new session.

  She’d found the grappling exercises fascinating. Two men trying to best each other with nothing but wrestling moves and submission holds. It wasn’t about strength but quick reactions and the ability to outmaneuver your opponent while watching for the moment he left himself open for that split second, allowing you to strike.

  Jax had bested his training partner almost every time, and she heard some of the other guys talking about how his Brazilian jiu-jitsu was his greatest strength.

  Now she watched him wrap each hand with over seven feet of three-inch-wide black fabric. Round and round he crisscrossed the wrap over his wrist and palm, making sure to weave them between his fingers and cover his knuckles at the top. Once he secured the Velcro ends and tested his handiwork by flexing and fisting his hands a few times, he grabbed his gloves and walked over to a large punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

  For the next half hour, he pounded his fists into the bag. Sometimes he’d perform high kicks or spinning kicks—she didn’t know the technical terms for any of them—in combination with his punches. His hair was soaked and plastered to the edges of his face and his white sleeveless shirt could’ve won him first place in a wet T-shirt contest. Rawr.

  “Maris!”

  Jax looked across the room where Frank stood inside the cage. “Coach?”

  “Come on in here and spar with Danny, will ya?”

  An evil grin cocked up one side of Jax’s mouth. “My pleasure.”

  Vanessa didn’t know the deal with him and “the kid,” as Jax called him earlier, but her Spidey Sense told her there wasn’t a lot of love lost between the two. She wondered how it worked when guys who didn’t particularly like each other had to fight nice.

  “Well,” she said to herself, “we’re about to find out.” Dang it, she thought, settling back in her cozy chair. She really did wish she had popcorn.

  Jackson stripped off his shirt, jogged up the few steps into the large octagonal cage, took his mouth guard from where it was tucked in his waistband—ew—and shoved it past his lips over his top teeth. Danny, like the rest of the guys she’d seen sparring in the cage, wore a padded helmet. Jackson donned no such thing.

  “Hey,” she called out. “Where’s your headgear, Maris?”

  He looked over his shoulder at her like a teenager upset with his mom for embarrassing him in front of his friends. “I’ll be fine, dear.” His endearment was laced with sarcasm. She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t appreciate his tone, but fine. She got it. He was a big boy and could take care of himself.

  She hoped Danny clocked him a good one.

  A hulk of a guy—Corey, if she remembered correctly—squatted next to her, shooting a stream of water into his mouth and swallowing. “Don’t worry about Jax,” he told her with an easy smile. “Akana’s just a rookie. He doesn’t stand a chance hurting Jax in a sparring exercise. He’s just in there to defend and make the kid work.”

  “Oh yeah? Then why does Danny look like he wants to exact a pound of Jackson’s flesh?”

  Corey chuckled. “Probably because the entire gym witnessed you shooting him down, and it was pretty damn obvious who you shot him down for.”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes and sighed. “Why are boys such cavemen?”

  “Can’t help it,” he said, standing again. “It’s in our DNA.” With that said, he walked toward the cage and yelled, “That’s it, Maris, keep him on his toes!”

  For the next twenty minutes or so, Vanessa watched in awe as time and time again Jackson blocked most of Danny’s strikes and thwarted almost all of the kid’s takedowns. The few punches Danny managed to connect only made Jackson offer a wide, plastic-filled smile as he bounced on the balls of his feet and gave him the universal sign of bring it on with his fingers.

  When they ended up on the ground it didn’t take more than a minute for Jackson to work his way out of Danny’s hold and reverse the situation, landing Jax on top in the power position.

  Corey was right. Jackson could definitely hold his own and then some. But what concerned Vanessa was the look in Danny’s eyes. With every passing minute, the frustration and anger grew more and more obvious, but a glance around the room showed she seemed to be the only one who noticed.

  She wasn’t sure what it meant for the two men duking it out in the cage, but nothing good ever came from that kind of a look. She’d seen it over and over again on her stepfather and it had never led to anything remotely good.

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax, telling herself Jackson knew what he was doing.

  At the moment, Danny had Jackson under him in what she’d learned was called full-guard, when the guy on top was between both legs of the guy on the bottom. The guy on top had the goal of trying to gain more power through half-guard—where he straddled one of the other guy’s legs—or full mount, which meant he managed to completely bypass both of his opponent’s legs and sit on the guy’s hips. All while raining down punches to the head and body.

  Unfortunately for Danny, Jackson was just too good. Even with Frank coaching Danny, barking out ways to get around Jackson’s moves and gain the upper hand, Akana never even managed to get to a half-guard position.

  Vanessa’s hands clasped together in a viselike grip in her lap as she watched Jackson sweep Danny’s legs to one side as he pushed up with his hips, rolling them over until Jax was now on top in a full mount.

  Danny immediately spun under Jax to try and push himself up to a standing position.

  Frank’s face turned red as he shouted, “No, Akana, you never give up your back! Turn around and get him into your guard!”

  But it was too late for Frank’s order. Jackson already had one strong forearm wedged against the front of the kid’s neck and proceeded to pull his clenched fist toward him with his other hand. Danny’s face flooded with darkening shades of red. It wouldn’t be long before Danny passed out.

  This particular scenario had happened once before already, and Danny was supposed to either get out of it or tap out so Jackson would release the hold and they could stand up and start over. But this time Danny wasn’t tapping, and it wasn’t possible to get out of it; Jackson’s arm was in too tight for an escape.

  Jackson turned his head to the side and spit out his mouth guard. “Come on, kid, tap and we’ll call it a day.”

  But Danny didn’t answer and he didn’t tap as his face grew redder than a tomato. Jackson looked to Frank with a questioning brow and received a single nod in response. Jackson released his hold immediately, and Danny took in big choking gulps of air.

  Slapping him on the back, Jax said, “Way to show heart and not give up, kid. I’m impressed. Better luck next time.”

  Standing up, Jax turned to her, breathing heavily and dripping sweat as he approached the black mesh of the cage. He hooked his fingers through the holes and smiled. “You ready to get out of here, gorgeous?”

  She stood and crossed to the octagon, keeping eye contact until she had to tip her head back. “I’m not afraid to admit when I’m wrong. You’ve proven yourself several times over. So get cleaned up and we can head back to Mau Loa. The day is young and we have things to do.”

  Technically those “things” were cake tasting and reviewing the menus for Friday and Saturday, but she let her eyes tell him she meant much naughtier things than that.

  Smart man caught on instantly, if the way his pupils swallowed the amber irises was any indication.

  “Don’t have to tell me twice. I’ll be right there.”

  Before he had the opportunity to turn around, Vanessa caught sight of Danny getting to his feet in the center of the ring. He muttered something to himself, but with all the noise of the weights clanging and the guys yelling to one another back and forth, she couldn’t hear what he said. But his wild look said plenty.

  Her eyes fle
w open wide. She shouted Jackson’s name. But the warning came too late.

  Everything slowed as though someone had paused the world and now clicked through time frame by frame. Danny cocked his hand back and struck at Jackson like a cobra uncoiling.

  Jackson turned around in time to see the fist slicing through the air. He reacted by weaving to the left, but it wasn’t fast enough to avoid Danny’s right hand. What looked to be a jab intended for Jackson’s nose ended up as a glancing hit to his cheek. The impact spun him back to the fence, but he was quick to right himself to keep the threat in his sights.

  With Jackson’s back now to her, Vanessa moved over several feet, her fingers clutching the fence, to get a better look at his face. Her stomach turned inside out. A gash below his right eye wept crimson blood and spilled over his jaw and onto his chest.

  Jackson pushed off the cage and narrowed his eyes on the man who sucker punched him and now had the gall to get in Jax’s face. Vanessa didn’t know a lot of the technical aspects of fighting, but anyone with a lick of common sense knew that a guy getting up in another guy’s grill was a non-verbal invitation for a good old-fashioned brawl. Exactly the thing she wanted to avoid witnessing.

  “Jackson, come on, let’s go.”

  Her shaky voice showed her as weak, frightened. Things she’d fought hard to never show anyone again since the day she left home. But she didn’t care. She couldn’t. All that mattered was getting Jackson out of there before… Before what, Nessie? Before things get violent? The man’s a fighter. He’s probably violent by nature…just like Carl.

  Oh, God, please no. Not Jackson.

  Vanessa’s palms grew clammy, and her skin turned cold. She wanted to plead with him again, but the tightness in her throat had trapped her vocal cords. Jax angled his head and used his shoulder to wipe the blood from his face. Instead of helping the situation, it only smeared it around his stubbled jaw and shoulder like a preschooler’s finger-paint project.

  Locking eyes with Danny, he ground out, “That make you feel like a man, kid?”