I huffed out a laugh. “You’re really pushing that angle tonight.”
“I told you, I don’t have an angle.” He stopped, forcing me to stop, too.
Tipping his chin up, he eyed the ceiling, clearly thinking. “When you’re considering an acquisition or exploring a new avenue of doing business, you bring in people to advise you, right? Experts in their respective fields?” He looked at me again, smiling. “You could think of me the same way, as an expert consultant.”
“On what?”
“Your past.” He resumed walking. “I help you with that, you can figure out the rest of your life yourself.”
—
“GET your head in the game, Cross.”
My gaze narrowed. Across the mat, James Cho hopped on his bare feet, taunting me. He grinned evilly, knowing the unspoken challenge would spur me on. Half a foot shorter than me and lighter by at least thirty pounds, the former MMA champion was lethally quick and had the belt to prove it.
Rolling my shoulders back, I adjusted my stance. My fists came up, closing the opening that had allowed his last punch to connect with my torso.
“Make it worth my while, Cho,” I fired back, irritated that he was right. My brain was still back in Dr. Petersen’s office. A switch had been thrown tonight and I couldn’t get a handle on what it was or what it meant.
James and I circled, feinting and striking out, neither of us scoring a hit. As always, it was just the two of us in the dojo. The driving beat of taiko drums rumbled in the background from speakers cleverly hidden in the floor-to-ceiling bamboo paneling.
“You’re still holding back,” he said. “Falling in love turn you into a pu**y?”
“You wish. Only way you’d beat me.”
James laughed, then came at me with a roundhouse kick. I dropped low and swept him, taking him down. He scissored his legs with lightning speed, taking me down with him.
We hopped back up. Squared off again.
“You’re wasting my time,” he snapped, his fist lashing out.
I ducked to the side. My left fist shot out, grazing his side. His fist hit my ribs straight on.
“No one piss you off today?” He came at me in a rush, giving me no option to do anything but defend myself.
I growled. Rage was simmering in the back of my mind, tucked away until I had the time and attention to deal with it.
“Yeah. I see that fire in your eyes, Cross. Let it out, man. Bring it on.”
She’s the chink in your armor . . .
I lashed out with a left/right combo, driving James back a step.
“That all you got?” he jeered.
I feigned a kick and then threw out a punch, snapping his head back.
“Fuck yeah,” he gasped, flexing his arms, getting pumped. “There you are.”
She bleeds . . .
Snarling, I lunged forward.
—
REFRESHED from a shower, I had barely finished dressing by pulling a T-shirt over my head when my smartphone started ringing. I picked it up off the bed where I’d left it and answered.
“A couple things,” Raúl said after greeting me, the background noise of a crowd and music quickly fading, then disappearing completely. “I’ve noticed that Benjamin Clancy is still keeping an eye on Mrs. Cross. Not constantly, but consistently.”