his thumb and finger.
I picked this for you...
Get away from me! Do you think I’d actually want this?
His eyes had filled with sorrow on the day I’d first rejected him. On the day I’d learned to be mean.
It wasn’t that I wanted to hurt him, I’d been upset for other reasons. But I’d taken it out on a little boy who had followed me into the maze, on a kind heart who had been brave enough to finally admit he liked me.
Callan had been seven and I’d been nine. And much like now, he’d offered me a white rose, so innocent despite the hateful feeling in my heart.
He wasn’t seven anymore. Wasn’t small and insignificant.
Stepping forward, he stole my space, his hand reaching out to hand me the rose. On instinct, I moved to take it, but he dropped it in the last second.
Time slowed as I watched the white blossom drop to the ground, my body flinching when his boot stepped down to crush it.
Fingers slid around my throat, so gentle, the threat.
And then the heat of his breath caressed my face as he leaned down to whisper against my ear.
“You remember that day, don’t you? You’re thinking of it right now.”
I nodded and swallowed, my throat moving against his palm.
Quiet laughter impacted my ear, his lips brushing the shell.
“I remember it, too. I knew you were hurting that day. I’d listened to your mother scream at you. You were crying when you ran into the maze, and I only wanted to make you feel better. To tell you that I could be your friend.”
He paused, the beat of his breath the only sound between us, the scent of his cologne setting me free within his dark orbit.
Callan’s voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “It was the first time your father beat me. The first time he scarred me because of you.”
My heart stopped beating for a second, the hard pulse of its return like a hammer against my ribs.
His hand tightened, but not enough to choke. Instead, he dragged me forward and tilted my face up to look at him.
An arrogant smile stretched his lips, his thumb sweeping down the pulse point in my neck.
Gone was the sweet little boy, and in his place was the monster I’d created.
“Ah, Lisbeth. You thought you could escape me, didn’t you?”
His grin stretched wider, fire dancing behind his eyes.
“I hope you know the only thing you’ve managed to do is dig your hole much, much, deeper.”
Callan
I stepped back when a fist slammed against the strike pad in my hand. It was pure energy, every strike. Although softened by the padding, the force of it still spread down my arm, rattling against my bones while tightening my muscles.
Repositioning my body against the attack, I kept my eyes locked to my opponent, admiring the focus in his expression, his determination a mirror of my own.
But Jacob was exhausted from the daily practice necessary for the true match that was coming.
It was too bad I couldn’t demand he step aside so I could enter the ring. I needed the release, now more than ever.
Jacob fell back, his foot moving to keep him upright as his expression tightened.
“Enough for today.”
Relaxing my posture, I tossed the strike pads to the side.
“I’m not sure what it says that I’m able to wear you out while barely breaking a sweat.”
He flipped me off, his hair slicked back and his chest glistening with perspiration.
“All you’ve been doing is impersonating a punching bag. Try crawling in the ring with me, and we’ll see who drops dead first.”
Laughter shook my shoulders.
“Two more days and you’ll be in the ring.”
I couldn’t hide the concern in my voice. When any of our men stepped into that ring, I worried. But Jacob was different. His life was the most valuable to me.
His eyes opened, locked to mine.
“I’ll be the one walking out of it.”
Catching his breath, he grinned.
“But if you’re worried, you could always promise to release Haley from her contract as my prize. That would ensure victory. I’d kill the asshole in one second flat.”
Which would be a problem for the show. Men didn’t pay thousands of dollars to see a one punch kill. They wanted blood. Lots of it.
Not that I hadn’t already decided to release Haley. Jacob just didn’t know it yet.
Tossing him a towel, I growled, “I warned you not to fall in love.”
He caught it with one hand, grinning at me while running it over his shoulders and the