I cleared my throat and turned back to Gunner, ignoring Brock to my right. “Thanks for bringing my truck back. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about that. You’ll have to tell me what happened sometime.” I couldn’t stop there. The pressure of being so close to Stryker with the powerful presence of Brock beside me combined with the need to make an impression boiled inside me. For once, I couldn’t taste my ever-present anger.
With my heart pounding, I moved to stand on tiptoe and gripped Gunner’s shoulder with my free hand for an anchor. I ignored the mounting tension around me and the suddenly confused look on Gunner’s face.
I wasn’t leaving until I’d left my mark. I had to make an impression. I couldn’t let them think they intimidated me and I refused to let anyone think I would be controlled.
Angling my head, I pressed myself closer to Gunner. He instinctively brought his hands up to encircle my waist as my chest rubbed against his.
Without thinking further, I melded my mouth to his. Warmth spread from my lips outward with a comforting strength, nothing earth-shattering or mind-blowing, but different from kissing Blaze which was like kissing a car salesman.
Intrigued by the difference, I opened my mouth to let him deepen the kiss. Instead of exploring that further, I was jerked backward while Stryker growled and Brock watched with the all-too-knowing gaze of someone looking at the walking dead.
Gunner’s grin spread like the Cheshire and he folded his arms while he watched me, but he didn’t say anything – completely out of character for him.
Stryker whipped me around to face him, pure fury chiseling the lines of his face into an even more intimidating mask of both beauty and rage. His fingers bit into my arm, tingling where our skin connected and burned as if he could transfer his anger to me.
Maybe he could.
I jerked my arms from his grasp and thrust my finger into his face. “Back of, Stryker. This doesn’t concern you.” I bit it out because my entire body hummed at the contact with him, at complete odds with what my mouth verbalized. I should have slapped him, or screamed, or punched him or anything to release the pent-up frustrations from being near him and not getting anywhere, but I worried that I might jump on him and wrestle him to the ground and rip his clothes off.
I needed distance between those silver eyes and those lips that promised things I wasn’t sure about and others I wanted with all my soul.
I ignored the pure pissed off vibe coming off him and glanced back at Gunner, offering a slight smile. Before I ruined any ground I might have gained, I spun back in the direction of my next class and walked away. What would they do if they knew what I really wanted to do? What would I do if I actually figured that out, too?
***
I made it through the rest of the day without any more incidents with the Jameson boys. I wasn’t sure I could handle much more from them as it was. I had boxing practice to conquer and a fight to get geared up for. Last thing I’d heard, the school we were going against first was down off the reservation. I’d be fighting one of three girls, to be determined by weight. Whoever was closest to my weight class would be the one I fought.
I could handle that. Making weight wasn’t as psychotic for boxing as it was wrestling, but it could still be intense if you were trying to make the weight class below your average weight. I usually hovered in bantamweight with the limit of 123 pounds but I’d been in flyweight at 115 pounds. I was finding I could do either, but the more muscle I put on, the closer to lightweight I got which was 132 pounds.
Muscle really did weigh more than fat and I looked leaner the heavier I got. I wasn’t light by any definition, but people usually thought I was because I didn’t take up a lot of space and I wore comfortable clothes rather than tight trampy outfits like other girls my age.
For weight class and then boxing practice, I pulled my hair back into a French braid, careful to wrap the rubber band tightly around my thick tresses. The long tail brushed the middle of my back when I finished and it kept my hair out of my way during the lifting part of class. I avoided Stryker’s glare for the hour, but when class ended and practice started, I couldn’t help looking his way.
He stood off to the side, his muscular arms folded across his chest, the lines and valleys of his muscles on display in a t-shirt with ripped out arms and a missing collar. Legs spread slightly more than shoulder-width apart, Stryker watched me a glower on his face that left me breathless but I couldn’t pinpoint why.
I could have challenged him, stared him down with an equally intense look. I would have, too, except my dad whistled from the other side of the room and I forced myself to drag my gaze from Stryker’s captivating form.
If I wasn’t careful, I was going to take a turn at kissing each of the cousins. If that didn’t make things worse, it might cure my reputation of being frigid but might give me an all-new reputation similar to Jasmine’s. I wasn’t sure which one would be worse.
“Okay, guys, we have a fight coming up and since I’ve put you through cardio hell, I’d like to see where your arm work is and what we need to work on to exploit your strengths and fix your weaknesses.” Dad pointed my way and then looked at the rest of the team. “I’ve worked with Gray for years and I already know hers inside and out. The rest of you, though, I need to become more acquainted.” He looked back to me and nodded toward the speed bags. “Go ahead and warm up, then you can do loops before the combinations.”
I nodded, excited to finally be on the speed bags. In the new house, we didn’t have any of my bags up since they were still packed in the one-car garage. Not much had been unpacked in the new place and I wasn’t sure either Dad or I was ready for that much yet.
I pulled out my wraps from the front pocket of the sweatshirt I’d cut similar to the way Stryker had his cut, but I’d kept the collar and hoodie on the sweatshirt.
I leaned my head side to side as I rolled my black wraps on my wrists, past my thumb and up around my knuckles and back again.
I could wrap in my sleep. Once the Velcro was in place and I bounced on my toes a bit to warm up and release the tension in my calves, I leaned forward, hunching my shoulders into the protective stance and bringing my fists up to protect my face. It was my starting stance with anything and everything. Almost second nature as I slid into place.
The front speed bag was up too high since I couldn’t keep it in the window between my fists. I twisted my lips to the side as I scanned the rest of the bags lined up on the cement block wall. One was down almost a full foot from the others at the end.
Some guys were shorter but obviously in this school not many. I dropped my arms and sauntered over to the shorter bag, unable to hide my smile as I realized it was set up exactly like I would have set mine up at home.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I could do bag work and ignore the other guys. I was doing a pretty good job of it already, if I did say so myself.
I could feel Stryker’s eyes on me like he had lasers in his gaze and he was slowly burning a brand into my skin. I wasn’t sure what my kissing Gunner had declared, but I was pretty sure it hadn’t labeled me as available for ogling or whatever the crap Stryker was doing. I refused to turn around and look. I could play this stupid game he’d trapped me in and I would come out the winner.
I had to win.
“Hey, Asher, you gonna hit a bag or just look at them all day?” Seth, the guy I’d outlasted the last time I’d been challenged in practice stepped up beside me. He narrowed his eyes and lifted his eyebrows. “I’m not just good at endurance, little girl.”
A slight chuckle escaped me and I shook my head. “If that was good, I’m scared to see what your awful is.”
The rest of the team seemed to be waiting for me to take the bait as they suddenly converged around us. I shot a glance at my dad, wondering if he was ever going to put a stop to me being hazed.
The defeated look in his eyes reminded me why I had to be stronger than he ever could be – because if I wasn’t, I’d end up like him;
alone, broken, and weak. Nothing I would ever be happy with or ever settle for.
Not seeing any help from his direction, I straightened my shoulders and glanced at Gunner who stood beside Stryker on the opposite side of Brock.
No help from that arena either. Fine. If they wanted to go through this again, I could do this over and over and over.
I tightened my jaw and looked back to Seth who was flanked by the other guys, John and Nick. “Is this what I have to do to be part of the team, you self-righteous pricks?” I thrust my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes. “Fine. Let’s make a bet.”
Stryker and his cousins stepped forward as if they could determine the terms and I held up a hand, shaking my head. “We’ll keep it simple.” I pierced each one with an intense look until I moved onto the next one, taking them all in, even my dad. “Once I start banging this bag, the competition has begun. Once I stop, it’s over. If any of you are still going, I’m out. I’ll leave and I won’t come back. You guys can tag-team in but the bag can’t stop moving or you’re out.”
The room was silent. You could have heard sweat drop. I pushed my hand back on my hip and raised my voice, my tone brooking no argument. “When I win, I get to stay on the team. No more shit, got it?”
Nick and John elbowed each other, smirking as if they knew something I didn’t.
A crease between Stryker’s eyebrows confused me. Was he worried they’d lose or that I would lose? Wouldn’t me being off the team satisfy everything he wanted? I’d be out of his way and one step closer to being controlled. Wasn’t that what they wanted?
“Yes, or no, guys. I’ve got a practice to finish.” I ignored my dad as he stepped closer to the circle that had formed around the bags. I really didn’t care what he said or thought. He was fast losing my trust. I pushed the things Blaze had said at The Pike about the boxing team at Timbercreek. Right then wasn’t the time to inspect anything too deeply.
I was fighting for a place on my new team. If I failed this, I was out of options. I couldn’t accept that and I wouldn’t.
Nick, John, and Seth nodded their agreement, looking to Stryker and the guys as if seeking their approval to make it official.
Stryker tilted his head to the side, studying me without rancor. Gunner and Brock both had their jaws thrust to the side as if they were angry but weren’t sure why. After a lengthy pause filled with Stryker’s gaze on me, he slowly inclined his head but that was it.
I didn’t know why, but I felt like I’d been released from some hidden string holding my muscles tense. Everything loosened up and I turned back to the bags with a grin. “Who’s first?”
Even though Seth stood beside me, Nick stepped forward, raising his hand. His grin said everything as he looked me up and down. “I can bang with you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Your originality is astonishing.” I didn’t look at Stryker or anyone else as I stepped into place in front of the lower bag. The black tear-drop shaped sack didn’t move as if it waited with bated breath for me to connect with it.
This was what I’d been missing since my dad announced we were moving, since he’d packed up my bags before the start of the season. I relished in the fights at The Pike, the sparring in practices, but I longed for the mindless bag work, where I could lose myself in my thoughts as my body lost itself in the exercise.
You couldn’t beat the bags. No one could. It was the pure magic of the bags, you hoped, but it wasn’t possible and that made them so much fun to beat on.
Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I had to give myself over to the trance and just let it go.
I could feel everyone’s eyes on me and for one brief moment fear petrified my muscles and I couldn’t move. What if I failed? I would have to walk away from the last chance at a team I had. I would have to accept that my dreams weren’t going to come true and I would have to find another way to escape the disappointment that my life had become.
But I wasn’t a wallower. I wasn’t going to sit there and let my brief moment of doubt stick me in the rut of the life I’d been dealt. No. I was getting out of there and I’d do what I to to make things happen.
Letting my confidence in bag work smooth a cocky grin across my lips, I glanced at Nick. “You ready, there, big boy?” I didn’t wait for his answer or for the answering cat calls and trash talk from the other team members to reach me or to calm down.
I lifted my hands just above my head and hit the bag with a closed fist, then the other, then again and again.
The resounding slap of leather against the wood combined with the creaking of the chain and my own tempered breathing slipped me easily into the trance I’d been hoping for. There was no coming out for who knew how long. Hopefully, they had their boxers lined up, because as far as I was concerned, I wasn’t coming out.
***
Stryker
Every muscle in my body tightened when Gray offered the challenge.
If she lost, we wouldn’t be able to stick to Dominick’s plan to get her on the team. He’d made that requirement obvious. We thought she’d had a spot since the guys hadn’t said much over the last handful of practices, but at the same time, we’d just been running cardio like little bitches and hadn’t really had a chance to work like a team.
I couldn’t deny the team the challenge, though. Seth had been feeling it since he’d lost to her in the stamina arena and he was desperate to gain back his pride. I wanted him to win, but I needed her to win.
If everyone lost to Gray, though, maybe that would give the rest of the team a unification with Seth that he was missing since he’d lost to a girl.
Or maybe, the entirety of the team would be discouraged and lose their self-confidence. I couldn’t be certain. I’d never been in a situation like this before.
Gray settled into some kind of hypnosis, hitting the bag with a delicate precision and timing as if she were a robot.
One minute in and Nick panted, “Next!” He stepped back and John jumped in, reaching up and keeping the bag going as he looked to Gray like maybe she was distracted.
I couldn’t see her eyes, but the steadfast way she held her shoulders, I could tell she was nowhere near finished.
John couldn’t find his rhythm as he hit the bag too hard and inconsistently. After forty-five seconds, he shook his head. “Seth, get in here and finish this.”
Seth’s eyes widened as he realized he would have to go against Gray again and that the way things were going, she was about to kick his ass again. He looked to me as if I was going to step in and I might, but I couldn’t lose to Gray. I wouldn’t lose to Gray and yet, I had to, if I wanted to keep Dominick’s plans in play.
I shrugged and grinned. “This is your game, man. I’m fine if she’s on the team.” Gunner and Brock chuckled beside me, more than aware that I wanted her on the team for more reasons than just that Dominick decreed it.
I preferred Gray being where I could see her, where I could keep tabs on her.
Thinking about the way she’d thrown herself on Gunner earlier sent a ripple of anger and territorial frustration surging through me. Thankfully, I loved Gunner as a brother and I knew he wouldn’t do anything to what was mine without asking, but seeing her lips on his almost had me forgetting our familial bond.
Seth stepped up, swallowing just as John fell back, panting. Taking the bag with a vengeance, Seth banged on the leather, his speed too aggressive, too fast, to be able to sustain for long.
Gray hadn’t altered anything about her technique. Her consistency was tenacious and she didn’t back down. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Over and over. I could stare at the smooth skin of her shoulders and arms for days. My gaze traveled down to take in the lines of her legs and butt in the leggings she wore. There was a litheness to her form that left my mouth dry.
Her long, thick hair begged from its braid to be wrapped around my fist as I leaned her back to kiss her neck.
There were a lot of things I wanted to do to Gray, none of them were things I should be thinking about
right there in practice where the evidence would be easy to spot.
Another minute passed and Seth shook his head, stepping back from the bag and watching it slow and then stop.
The guys turned their gazes from the stopped bag to Gray who hadn’t paused or moved or even acknowledged them in their attempt to defeat her. She continued the bag work, thump thump thump, as if her arms weren’t burning and her lungs didn’t crave oxygen.
Coach Asher stepped around us, reaching up to slowly tap Gray on the shoulder. She started, dropping her hands and looking at her dad.
He nodded and pointed toward the guys on the team. “You won. Can we finish practice now?” For a brief second I could see his irritation with his daughter and the jealousy it stemmed from. He shifted his gaze, catching me staring at him. His weak mask settled back into place and for the first time I wondered just how much of who he presented to the world was real.
If the Vice-Principal claimed to have him wrapped around her finger, was that true or just the perception he wanted her to have? I’d have to keep my eye on Coach Asher. He was a major component in Dominick’s plan and therefore someone I needed to keep tabs on.
Gray turned to the side, just inside my range of view but outside the other guys’. She blinked back tears and then brushed her fingers under her eyes. For whatever reason, the bag work had broken down her defenses. I didn’t like seeing her vulnerabilities so close to being on display for other people. One more part of her I wanted to keep for myself.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d tuck her away and never let her into the world.
Seth stepped forward and I flexed my forearms, ready to do something to keep him from damaging her fragile, albeit temporary, state.
Her Challengers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 1) Page 17
