“I’m Seth. Um, Seth Macfarlane. My cardio is strong. I don’t get tired as fast as the other guys.” Seth rolled his shoulders and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, never leaving the ground. He often ran more drills than anyone else on the team. His wiry shape left him extra energy that the rest of us didn’t have.
If I ran drills like he did, I’d probably be as good as him in the energy sector.
I flicked my gaze around the group, checking for any of the guys who might be checking out Gray. If they did, I might have to pummel them in a sparring match. I wouldn’t tolerate any of them looking her over. For some reason, that got to me. She wasn’t an option for the other guys. She wasn’t an option for me.
Regardless, she hadn’t moved.
“Nick Johnson. I can listen while I’m fighting.” He folded his arms, his forearms bigger than they’d been last season. Nick was a good guy. He did what we asked when we needed it done. You couldn’t ask for more loyalty than he had. He didn’t have a reason to help the Jamesons, he just did it.
Coach shifted his eyes to Brock and nodded.
Brock jerked his thumb over his shoulder and glared at Asher. “Is your daughter going to be in here for every practice? She’s distracting.” His blunt accusation was what the rest of us were thinking.
I took the opportunity to turn at the waist and glance at her. She lifted her chin as her gaze met mine as if she accepted the challenge Brock threw down. What was her problem and why was she there?
Winking her direction, I offered a slow taunting smile. Infuriating her would probably be the best way to get a rise out of her. If I could get her to lose her cool, she’d be out. She wouldn’t have the ego to keep going. So, what if her dad was the boxing coach and gym teacher? That had nothing to do with her.
Asher glanced at his daughter; his expression carefully neutral. “Gray?” Was he asking her to leave or inviting her to explain herself?
Gray stepped forward, joining the small gathering of guys as we stood in a loose circle. She insinuated herself between Brock and Gunner, her head coming to just above their shoulders. While she had muscles, she was also petite and a rise of protectiveness swelled inside me. Protecting her would contradict my goals and I couldn’t entertain that.
What was she doing there? I didn’t need the distraction or the pull toward her. I needed her gone, yet the very thought of her leaving made me sick.
“I’m Gray Asher. One of my many strengths is that my opponents usually underestimate me.” She lifted her chin, her blue eyes flashing.
Gunner shifted to the side, shoving his shoulder against mine. The other guys shuffled away from her, giving her room as if she were a pariah.
Brock, however, guffawed. “Your what? Sorry, did you say your opponents?” He reached out and clapped his hand on her shoulder and my gut twisted. He shook his head. “Sweetheart, girls don’t box.”
Was that what she was saying? She was a boxer? I narrowed my eyes. I wasn’t going to watch a girl struggle with the training as she took away our time to learn and practice. I raised my hand before I spoke. “We already have an even number on the team. You’d be odd man out.” I smirked when her eyes landed on mine.
Something like disappointment lurked in the depths of her gaze and I shifted on my feet as if I could escape it. I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. It wasn’t my problem if she didn’t like the truth. Her moves she’d used in the hallway didn’t matter. She’d been protecting herself. Anything a girl should learn in a self-defense class.
“Not to mention girls can’t fight.” Seth chortled and elbowed John in the ribs as he jerked his gaze back to Gray’s body. Seth was going to be a problem.
“Gray.” Coach Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s address this a different time.” He didn’t say no and he didn’t say yes. What game was he playing at? He couldn’t seriously be considering letting a girl on the team, could he?
Ignoring her father, Gray didn’t even look at me as she met Seth’s hazel eyes with her own. She smiled sweetly, almost too sweetly. “Let’s end this right here, then, Seth. If you get a point on me, I’ll quit before I even start. But if I score three on you, you back off.” She lifted her delicious shoulder and smiled even wider. “If neither of us scores but I outlast you, then I stay.” She covered her bases as she threw the challenge onto the ground.
Seth glanced around at the group, straightening his back as if the entire boxing club relied on him to return the team to its balanced form. “Fine. I’ll take it easy on you.” He smirked as he followed her into the makeshift ring that had been outlined with blue tape on the floor of the weight room.
We used that room because the acoustics were better than the gym’s cavernous sounds which made it easier to listen to coach and other tips thrown around during practice.
I flicked my gaze toward Asher. Was he really going to let his daughter go against a guy with an easy twenty pounds on her? More like forty. Coach stood back; his arms crossed over his open windbreaker. He studied the situation in front of him, resignation heavy in the lines around his mouth and eyes.
How many times had he seen exactly this? How many times had his daughter failed? She wasn’t very big which more than likely meant she wasn’t very strong. I ignored the image of her lifting in my mind. Weight strength and punch strength were two different things. She could have one without the other.
Seth squared up to Gray, his eyebrows knit together. “Do you know the proper stance?” He was going to demean her while he beat her.
I almost spoke up, told him to shut it, but she asked for it. Gray had offered herself for the challenge. The least she could do was suck it up. Plus, she had to learn her place which wasn’t on the boxing team. She needed to be subdued.
If anyone could do it, it was Seth. He could go the distance.
I knew there were girls on other boxing teams. We competed against teams from all over the northwest since high school teams were few and far between. Our guys had never fought against any of the women boxers since it could destroy your potential career for hitting a girl. We had to forfeit the matches we were pitted against a girl and that always cost us points.
Coach stepped into the ring, holding his hands up like he was going to stop the fight before it began. Instead, he put a hand on both Gray and Seth’s shoulders. “I want a clean fight; do you hear me? Normal rules apply. Sparring conditions, not full on.” He eyed Gray as if the warning was more for her than Seth.
Interesting. She was getting a warning from her old man when she was about to go against a bigger guy. An opponent she chose.
I tucked my chin, watching her movements as she lifted her hands comfortably in a southpaw stance. She was southpaw? That didn’t make sense. When she’d dropped into a defensive stance in the hall against me and the boys, she’d been right. What game was she playing at?
Seth narrowed his eyes. He’d been the biggest groaner when John had announced his strength was southpaw. Had Gray picked up on that? Was she using that to her advantage? If she wasn’t good at it, she’d be hurting her chances before she even broke a sweat.
Brock and Gunner moved into position on either side of me as we watched.
Gunner murmured, soft enough no one else could hear but us. “What do we do if she wins?”
We glanced at each other, the gravity of the situation starting to pull into focus. If she won, she would have bested Seth. He’d have a hard time living that down, if word got out. If she got on the team, we’d have to be around her – constantly. That wasn’t an option.
The Jamesons – me, Brock, and Gunner – couldn’t afford to be distracted by a tight butt in our midst. We just wanted things to go back to the way they were. Without someone like Gray causing problems. If she caused problems there, where else would her interests follow?
Coach made them touch fists and then broke the connection, announcing the start of the fight.
Gray shifted forward, balancing on the balls of her feet as if she w
ere part gazelle. Something tightened in her face and I suddenly saw anger that wasn’t normally there on her neutral expression. Pure, unadulterated fury sparked in her eyes and brought bright points of pink to her cheeks.
Seth reached across for a light jab, not connecting, but more to judge where she was going and what she was doing. Gray bounced backward, watching him, keeping her eyes on his face and flicking down to his waist, over and over and over.
Glancing my direction, Seth checked me for my instructions. I knew what he wanted. He wanted the go ahead to take care of it. I lifted one hand up and rested a finger along my jaw line, arching an eyebrow. Seth understood my directions – let’s get this over with so we can get back to practice.
If she got knocked down, then so be it. It never hurt anyone to have their pride knocked about a bit.
Nodding tightly, Seth leaned forward, hunching into his stance. He bounced, starting the circling act he did when he was ready to wear out his opponent. Seth wasn’t the strongest of the team, but once he started moving, if you didn’t keep up, he’d leave you in the dust, gasping for air.
All of us had fallen victim to his cardio. Even myself until I’d knocked him flat on his back with an uppercut. The team looked to me to lead them, even with a coach in existence, because coaches got fired or quit, they were fluid. I was constant. I wasn’t going anywhere.
Gray’s anger didn’t dissipate as her controlled expression shifted into a smirk. She followed Seth’s movements without faltering, keeping pace as they traded jabs and hooks. Seth shot an alarmed glance my way as we all realized at the same time that Gray was in excellent shape. She wasn’t even breathing hard as Seth put her through his paces.
He’d have to outpower her, then. Not a big deal, just not optimal for a guy-on-girl fight. None of us agreed with hitting a girl. It went against everything we believed in as boxers.
I jerked my chin upward when Seth glanced at me again, worry in his eyes. He nodded jerkily, causing Gray to flick her gaze my direction. When she realized I was calling the shots, she narrowed her eyes further and shifted closer to Seth, breaking through the testing lines.
She didn’t wait for Seth to do what I instructed. Instead, she completely abandoned her careful pacing and defensive action and went into aggressive offense. Her jabs took on more control and power.
Jab. Jab. Haymaker?!
Gray pivoted her rear foot and swung her right fist in a wheelhouse punch that came down on Seth’s head from an upper direction. Out of nowhere. They weren’t common because haymakers used up a lot of energy and were only ideal when your opponent wasn’t expecting them.
“Keep it sparring, Gray. Next one will deduct a point and go to Seth.” Coach Asher’s warning hung in the air but the fighters didn’t seem to hear him. He still gave her a point, but begrudgingly.
Seth definitely hadn’t been expecting the hit from above by such a short girl.
Gray dropped back into her stance, but didn’t stop. She pushed forward on Seth, jabbing and poking as she maneuvered him into the corner of the ring. If he stepped out, she’d get a point.
Wild eyed, Seth didn’t know what to do. We could all see it in his eyes. He didn’t want to hit a girl, but he also didn’t want to lose. I gritted my teeth and nudged Gunner with my elbow. No girl was going to do this to my team. My guys didn’t need this stress. I wouldn’t even admit that she had moves.
“Get it done, Seth. Do what you need to do.” Gunner had no problem issuing orders. His voice was low and calm, almost comforting as he gave our approval to do what was necessary. Gray ignored his command as she moved forward, step by step, jab by jab.
And just when we expected another haymaker, she twisted again and came from below with an elegant uppercut that snapped Seth’s head back and his teeth to crack together. So much for sparring and keeping it clean, yet, she didn’t break any rules or come across as dirty. It was clearly a point in her favor.
I dropped my hands to my sides in shock as Seth stepped out of the ring borders, granting Gray another point. He bent at the waist, breathing deeply to catch his breath.
Coach’s whistle blew, the sharp piercing sound jarring each of us from the shock of the match.
Seth hadn’t gotten in any points.
A soft line of perspiration dotted Gray’s forehead, but her perky breasts weren’t moving up and down with panting or fast breathing. She barely seemed fazed as she stared with what could only be termed as boredom at Seth.
She was bored? How could she be bored after what she’d just done? I didn’t understand it and that frustrated me more. As far as I was concerned, she better revel in her small victory. I wasn’t going to allow it again.
Gray had won. Which meant I had to make sure that in the end, she lost.
Chapter 5
Gray
My victory wasn’t filled with triumph and smugness. I stepped back from the team, glancing at Dad with a twist to my lips that lacked humor. He shook his head to the side that was more of a jerk in the direction of the locker rooms.
Got it. I’d just beat their cardio guy – the one they used to make a point on other teams. I had been easy on him because I recognized right off the bat that his form was sloppy and his balance off. What would they have done, if I’d unleashed like my anger wanted me to?
Not one of them would have stood there in dumbfounded silence.
I turned from their fault-finding gazes as they slowly shifted their eyes to focus on me. Shoulders back and head held high, I refused to be intimidated. I’d just taken down one of their own. I wouldn’t be accepted any time soon. At least, I’d proven my abilities – or the start of them.
No one, not even Dad, knew my real talents. Even Blaze and Sara hadn’t known what I could do. She’d watched a few of my random fights at The Pike, but she was usually more interested in the guys.
I winced at the thought of Sara as I pushed through the locker room doors and tightened my jaw. I didn’t want to go down that line of thought. I’d already had to face the fact that I was in a school that didn’t want me there. Did I really want to mull over my lack of friends by focusing on my now absent best-friend? Not really.
Dad had confiscated my phone before we left the house that morning for school, demanding some participation throughout the day in my new classes in order to get it back. My display at practice should count as participation. Maybe I could get my phone when we got home later that night.
Practice would go a while longer. While I waited for Dad to get done, I could work on my homework. Transferring schools in the middle of the semester left me a lot to do to catch up on the load. My classes at Timbercreek were more advanced than the ones at Jameson, but that didn’t mean that papers weren’t due and essays expected.
I leaned my shoulder on the lockers beside the one I’d chosen for my things. Hanging my head for a moment, I blinked back frustrated tears. I wasn’t weak.
They didn’t have to like me. They didn’t have to accept me. All I wanted to do was get on a team and achieve my goal. I had to fight eighteen matches to qualify for an application for a scholarship at a college on the coast. Not many colleges had boxing clubs.
Dad wasn’t the most reliable of employees. He would never make enough to get me into college and I would never accept loans. Debt wasn’t something I was willing to get into.
I had eight matches already, not for lack of trying, but eight matches in three years didn’t leave me with good statistics to completing my goals. My extracurricular activities would never count toward my scholarship goals since most of the events I fought at were illegal in more ways than one.
My adrenaline started to wane and I wiped at the moisture under my eyes. It wasn’t fair that my anger morphed into sadness and despair after I worked on expunging the rage from under my skin. It frustrated me to no end and I slammed my locker door open, the grating of metal on metal loud in the silence as it echoed off the tile walls and floor. I hadn’t broken a sweat, so I ignored the bank of shower
heads in the middle of the shower space and changed back into my street clothes, tucking my workout clothes in the bottom of my backpack.
Shutting the door with a snap, I couldn’t help wondering what Stryker, Brock, and Gunner thought of my performance. It didn’t really matter – or so I kept telling myself – but I couldn’t help the curiosity. I hated that Stryker’s eyes captivated me, distracted me from my thoughts or that Brock’s blunt manner appealed to the truth-seeking side of me or even that Gunner’s soft voice left little doubt who the smooth talker was in the group as his charm and joking eased him into most situations.
I hadn’t gotten much information on them and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to. Once I got my phone back, I’d do some research and see what information they had on social media.
Stryker had a way of looking at me that left me wondering if I had clothes on. Yet, at the same time, irritation created a small set of lines between his eyebrows as if he couldn’t quite place the blame on any one person.
Blame… I got it.
Lost in thought, I pushed open the outer door of the locker room and wandered into the hallway, coming to a stop when I found my way blocked.
Thankfully, all the tears had been wiped dry and I was back to feeling normal. No way in hell was I going to let Jasmine see my misery.
Because there she stood with her sister behind her and three other girls I recognized from gym class. I didn’t bother to look at them too closely as I arched an eyebrow at Jasmine. I wasn’t stupid. I knew a snake when I saw one.
Even blonde snakes with rosebud colored lipstick on.
“Just who I was hoping to see.” My sarcasm dripped thickly from my tone. I hated the twins and I didn’t even know them. But I knew bullies and they were the worst kind. They wouldn’t stop bugging people because they didn’t have a goal or a purpose, other than to inflict misery on others.
Jasmine folded her arms across her chest, tilting her head and smirking. “Girl, you need to start wishing I was your friend. Your life is about to get really difficult here.” She sidled closer to me – her second mistake. Her first was in thinking she could get away with threatening me at all. She lowered her voice as she moved to within three feet of me. “I haven’t even begun to have fun. You might consider telling your parents it’s time to move on.”
Her Challengers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 1) Page 4
