Spitfire Suckerpunch (House of Pain Book 2)

by Lavender Parker

  “Now Austin, unless you want to get in this ring too, I suggest you get back to your workout and stop distracting my girls,” Gennifer said, narrowing her eyes at him. The man, apparently named Austin, chuckled and sauntered off like he owned the place. The girl with braids watched him walk off, but then she turned her gaze and caught Shay staring at her. Shay smiled sheepishly at getting caught and turned her attention back to Tate, who was standing beside Gennifer with an intimidating looking on his face. He rolled his head on his shoulders and sighed, like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Gennifer ignored his obvious discomfort and turned back to the women standing around in the ring.

  “Alright, let's get started. I see we have a new face in the group,” she said, staring right at Shay. Shay ran her tongue over her lips as twenty pairs of eyes turned her way. “I'm Gennifer and, as you've probably guessed, I'm going to be teaching you some self-defense tips. Why don't you tell us your name?”

  “Uh, okay,” Shay said, glancing back at Tate. He was paying her no mind; instead, he was fiddling around with the white tape that was wrapped around his hands, from his knuckles to his wrists. She narrowed her eyes at him. “My name is Shay and I'm from Harlem,” she said pointedly, then forced herself to look at the other women. They all smiled and nodded, friendly already. She smiled back.

  “Well, Shay, anything particular you're trying to get out of learning some self-defense?” Gennifer asked. “Other than the obvious?”

  “I don't know,” Shay replied, shrugging. “I think I'm pretty good at taking care of myself, but it would be nice to feel more safe, I guess.”

  “Good,” Gennifer said with a nod. “I think everybody here has been in situations where we wished we could have reacted faster and felt less threatened.” Then she nodded her head toward Tate. “Him, too. He might look scary, but he's a cop so he can relate.”

  “Nah,” Shay said. “He doesn't look scary at all.” A few of the women giggled and she finally got what she wanted—a reaction from Tate. He glanced up at her, his face blank and uninterested. Then she thought maybe she saw a spark of recognition in his eyes. Her heart sped up in her chest, but then he blinked and looked away and she didn't know if she'd imagined it or not.

  “So you want to be first?” Gennifer asked, cocking an eyebrow. Shay smoothed her lips together, making the decision in an instant.

  “Sure, why not?” she said, as if her heart wasn't beating out of her chest. “Throw me right into the frying pan.”

  “It's what I do best, mamí,” Gennifer said. Then she waved Shay forward. Taking a deep breath, Shay made her way to the front of the little group to stand beside Gennifer. She squared her shoulders and forced herself to look up at Tate. She'd forgotten how tall he was, or maybe she just didn't realize it before. He was easily a head taller than her.

  “Tate is going to grab you like this—” Gennifer motioned to Tate and he stepped forward, throwing out his big arms and wrapping them around Gennifer's waist, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “And here's what you're going to do,” Gennifer said, flinging her leg around his and hinging herself forward so that her other foot hit the ground again. “Hook your leg around his and then grab him here,” she continued, grabbing his thumb and pulling it back. Tate let her go and she pivoted on her heel and then lifted her leg, mimicking kneeing him in the balls. “When he releases you, then you go for his groin and push him away,” Gennifer said, shoving him in the chest. Tate took a step back and held up his hands in surrender. “See? Not so hard,” Gennifer said, smiling reassuringly.

  “If you say so,” Shay murmured.

  “So we're going to run through it when you're ready. Just try and remember what I just showed you, even though your first instinct will be to panic. Okay?” Shay nodded slowly, her stomach jumping into her throat. She was in no way prepared for what was about to happen, but she was just going to jump in. Besides, the thought of hitting Tate gave her a kind of perverse pleasure. “You ready?” Gennifer asked, taking a step closer to the ropes to give Shay and Tate room. Shay glanced back at Tate, and realized he was staring at her in a way that was a little too intense for her liking. The man had at least seventy-five pounds on her, she would guess. Before she could rethink it, she let out a deep breath and steeled her spine.

  “Ready,” she said, before she could stop herself. She barely had time to think before she felt Tate's heavy arms close roughly around her waist and lift her off the mat. Her breath caught in her throat and all thoughts immediately fled her brain. She pressed her hands into his forearms, knowing that she was supposed to be doing something, but her brain was frozen. He was so big and she honestly didn't think she'd have a chance if he came after her for real. And besides, it sure felt real. His arms squeezed her waist, cutting into her ribs. It took her a second to remember she was supposed to be doing something with her legs, so she swung out, trying to remember what it was.

  “Hook your leg around his,” Gennifer supplied calmly from the sidelines. Shay nodded, although she barely heard the other woman. All she could focus on was Tate's breathing on her neck. He blew out a sharp breath and it tickled the skin above the collar of her T-shirt in an unnerving way. She didn't like it, not one bit. Shay tried to do what Gennifer said, but she couldn't seem to get her leg to wrap around his properly. Then, all of a sudden, he set her back down on her feet and loosened his hold on her. But he didn't drop his arms. He kept them around her waist, barely touching her, but still touching her nonetheless.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice close to her ear. All she could think in that moment was that his voice was deeper than she remembered it being.

  “Mm-hmm,” Shay murmured and he let her go, just like that.

  “Your mind went blank, right?” Gennifer asked, drawing Shay's attention to her. “It's normal. Fear kicks in and it can be hard to think straight. So we're going to try it until it's not such a shock when he attacks. Is that cool?”

  “Yeah,” Shay said with a nod. “It's cool.” She was ready, she decided. The shock had worn off. She was going to punch and shove Tate without hesitation and it was going to feel great. She rolled her shoulders and planted her feet. Then she craned her neck to look back at him. He dropped his eyes to meet hers and something passed over his face. It was then that she was sure then that he knew who she was. Well, almost sure. There was something about the way he was looking at her. His eyes were less cool and calm. They were sharper. He was paying more attention.

  “Ready?” he asked, lightly after a minute. She felt her lips curling into a smile.

  “Yup,” she said. “And this time, I won't take it easy on you.”

  ***

  It couldn't be her.

  It couldn't be her, he told himself, and yet he had a feeling that the impossible had just become possible. The island of Manhattan wasn't that big, after all. In fact, it could be irritatingly small sometimes. He should have known at any point he could run into a person he'd arrested or investigated or testified against. It hadn't happened in awhile, but the law of averages said it was surely only a matter of time. Tate stared down at the pretty black girl and he had the disarming feeling that he'd met her before, when she'd still had her baby fat and had been little bit more innocent. He tried to remember what she'd said her name was. She'd said it less than ten minutes ago, but he hadn't been paying any attention. He'd been too focused on how Austin'd been looking at his little sister Tiny to notice the new girl at the back of Gennifer's class. He was thinking about how Austin was his friend, but he'd beat him senseless if he had to. He was thinking that Tiny was too innocent, too trusting, too sweet to let Austin worm his way between her legs. Not that he thought that little of his friend.

  Well, maybe he did.

  Now, however, he was regretting paying so much attention to Austin. The girl in front of him was staring at him like she knew something he didn't, and he didn't like it. She looked so damn familiar, so much like... but there was no way it could be her. The girl he was thinking of
was locked up upstate. She had been for the past six years. At least, he was pretty sure she was still locked up.

  “Okay,” he said, breaking the silence, because he had a feeling he'd been staring at her an uncomfortably long time. She nodded and turned back to face away from him, getting ready for his attack. He hesitated for a bit, his gaze running down her back. She had purple hair, he realized. The tips of it were purple anyway and curled at the center of her back. She was wearing jeans and purple high-tops and a white V-necked T-shirt. He could see her red bra underneath the thin shirt, not that he was looking.

  He shook off the strange feeling that he knew her and told himself that it didn't matter either way. Clicking his tongue, he lunged at her, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her against his chest. He lifted her off of her feet and this time, it didn't escape his notice how her curvy ass hit against the front of him, or how soft her stomach was against his arms. She wriggled against him, trying to wrap her foot around him and a strand of her hair brushed across his neck. He loosened his arms a bit as she hooked her leg around his, and she got one foot on the ground. The seconds seemed to stretch into hours as she slapped her hands on his forearms and bumped her ass against him, trying to force him off.

  She smelled good, he realized, just as she escaped his embrace. Like vanilla or something sweet. While he was distracted, she whirled around and shoved at his chest with both hands. He stumbled back at the force of it, barely having time to catch himself. He hadn't been paying attention and he was taken aback by the force of her shove. Before he could react, she lifted her knee and slammed it into his groin. He was padded but the little shock of impact was still an unpleasant surprise and he sucked in a deep breath. He blinked until it passed, still maintaining a straight face even though it was difficult. She shot him a look, her dark eyes dancing with excitement. She'd gotten a little taste of action and she'd enjoyed it, it seemed.

  “Good! Good,” Gennifer said from the sidelines.

  “Can we do it again?” the girl asked, then turned to Gennifer for the okay.

  “Maybe after everyone else has had a turn,” Gennifer said with a laugh. The girl smiled and shot him another look over her shoulder. He could tell she was bursting at the seams for another shot at him. But she shrugged and made her way to the back of the group obediently. “Okay, who's next?” Gennifer asked the group of ladies. Tate groaned inwardly, wishing with all of his might that he could hop out of the ring and ditch the bulky padding. He would absolutely prefer to be in the corner with Austin, lifting weights. But he didn't. He'd made Gennifer a promise and he stuck to it.

  For the better part of an hour, he steeled himself against the women's attacks, from the gentle—Erica's sister Joanna seemed afraid to hit him too hard, and Tiny looked like she was holding back out of familial obligation—to the overenthusiastic. Erica didn't pull any punches and his mother Maria seemed to enjoy smacking him a little too much. Meanwhile, he couldn't deny that most of his attention was on the girl leaning on the ropes at the edge of the ring.

  She was still staring at him like she knew something he didn't. She caught him watching her a few times, but he would look away and pretend he wasn't trying to study her. He felt awkward and out of place and he didn't like it, not one bit. House of Pain was like a third home for him, a place where he knew everybody and everybody knew him. He never had to pretend to be something he wasn't. He never had to be nice if he didn't feel like being nice, or talkative when he didn't feel like being talkative. But the mysteriously familiar girl was suddenly invading his space and making him feel itchy. He didn't like feeling like every move he made was being watched. He also didn't like how distracting she was. She wasn't even doing anything and yet, she was still distracting.

  “Alright, now we're going to go a bit further,” Gennifer was saying and he forced himself to pay attention to her. He wanted to know what torture he was going to have to endure next. “He's going to come back at you and you're going to go for his face. Push him, then take the heel of your palm and shove upwards toward his nose,” Gennifer said, lifting her hand as an example. Tate stepped forward without thinking, letting Gennifer run through the motions of the move. He made sure to lean his head back to avoid her blow, even though she didn't put much force behind it. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of any of Gennifer's punches no matter how soft, that was for sure. He was a big dude, but a she was wily, especially since Mikhail had started sparring with her. His sister had very little fear in the ring, and they would never say it, but the fact that she could kick ass was a source of pride for all the men in the family. At least it was for him. Seeing Tiny and Maria in the ring made him happy as well.

  “Okay, who wants to go first?” Gennifer said, turning back to the group.

  Of course, the girl at the back of the ring threw her hand up immediately.

  “So enthusiastic,” Gennifer said with a laugh. “I appreciate that. Don't you, Tate?” Tate shrugged, his eyes on the girl as she made her way back to him. Sure enough, it looked like there was an extra spring in her step. She turned to Gennifer then and they went over what to do again, but he wasn't listening. He was looking at her face and wondering what the hell her name was and where she'd come from. The lack of knowledge was bothering him. He decided that at the end of the class he was going to have to ask her, no matter how awkward it may be. He had to know.

  Finally she stood in front of him, her back to him, and he told himself it was time to do something. So he lunged at her, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her up again. She wasn't light, exactly, but she wasn't heavy either. He could feel the muscles in his arms and chest straining as she fought against him, and suddenly he was thinking things he had no business thinking about. He'd been celibate for too long, it was normal, he told himself. But it didn't stop him from feeling like a damn pervert. Here he was, acting out the part of a predator, all the while thinking about throwing her against the nearest wall and... well, it didn't matter what he was thinking about. He didn't even know her damn name, so he damn well didn't have any business thinking about how her mouth would feel and how her pussy would taste like or what the nape of her neck would smell like. No business at all.

  He was so involved with trying to not think about fucking her that he didn't move his head out of the way fast enough before the heel of her hand flew toward his face. Luckily, years as a cop had sharpened his reflexes, so he did manage to jerk his head to the side before she knocked the shit out of him. He grabbed her wrist on instinct and she gasped slightly in surprise. She curled her fingers and he noticed her long, pointed, rainbow-colored nails. Then he also noticed a small diamond ring on her ring finger. And that's when it hit him. The combination of the nails and the ring was too familiar. He remembered that diamond ring. After six fucking years, he still remembered that cheap, small ring. She used to fiddle with it when she was nervous, he remembered. When she was in the interrogation room, she'd fiddled with it.

  He caught her eyes and instantly he knew it was her. Any doubts he'd had were gone. He knew exactly who she was and he had a sinking feeling that it was no coincidence that he was standing across from her in the ring at House of Pain. He'd never forgotten her and apparently, she'd never forgotten him either. He wondered how long she'd been out and why she was there. He had so many questions. There was only one thing he knew for sure.

  Trouble had found him and her name was Shay Spears.

  Chapter Five

  Shay tried to focus on whatever Erica was saying, laughing along when everyone else laughed, but her attention was on the man just outside the ring, peeling off the protective padding. Class was over, but she was more nervous now than at the start. The class had been fun, though, and she liked all the women in the group. They all laughed easily and seemed comfortable with each other, just like the stylists at Gina's salon. Gennifer was tough, but she knew what she was talking about. Maria was warm and motherly. Tiny was shy but smiled easily. Erica and her sister were overly loud and ov
erly friendly, comfortable despite the fact that they were the only two white girls in the whole gym. She should have felt at ease, but she couldn't.

  She was pretty sure Tate knew who she was. She couldn't be sure, but there was something about the way he looked at her in the ring. At the very least, he was suspicious that he knew her from somewhere. She didn't look too much different from when she was arrested, other than the fact that she was about thirty pounds lighter. Even though Gina said she looked older and harder, when Shay looked in the mirror she still saw herself the same way as she did back then. She wondered if he even remembered her at all.

  He glanced up and caught her eye and she didn't bother to look away. Her stomach clenched as he narrowed his eyes at her. She excused herself from the women and climbed out of the ring, dropping somewhat awkwardly on the padded floor below. She made her way to the women's locker room, tossing a look at him over her shoulder. He was still staring at her. Suddenly, she had the urge to run. He was too big and too intense. She wasn't done with Tate Grayson, but she needed to regroup. She definitely needed a plan.

  She grabbed her purse from the locker Erica had given her and threw on her coat. She was back out on the gym floor in less than a minute, but she forced herself to not rush out the door. She kept her eyes front and center, resisting the need to search for him again. She didn't need to know where he was or whether he was noticing her exit. It didn't matter, she told herself, although she could feel his eyes on her. She pushed open the door and the chilly Fall air hit her square in the face. Grimacing, she turned and headed toward Grand, the streetlights staining the sidewalk in front of her with orange light. The scent of dampness and dead leaves was all around and the streets were quiet. New York was always on, but on nights like this, when it was cold and dreary, everybody seemed to go into hiding. Shay herself just wanted to get home and close herself away in her bedroom and figure out how to deal with Tate.