Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

IZZY

W hen we reach the main gym space, I snort at what I see.

Cain's doing some sort of punching drill, throwing punches and kicks at empty air. Aggie's pretending to be his opponent. She's landing ghostly punches on him and crowing her victory.

Aggie looks up as we enter. I raise my eyebrows to ask her what she's doing. Aggie shrugs. "I'm bored. It's not like I have a lot to entertain me, kid."

Fair enough. Aggie's been dead a long time. I imagine it gets boring and lonely watching everyone else live their lives while you're frozen in one moment of time. Subtly dipping my chin, I let her know I heard her.

"Which ring does he want to use?" I ask Archer.

The Poisoned Vine is one of the biggest MMA gyms I've seen. It makes sense that it's owned by the Nightshade Pack, since they're wealthier than God. The Gallaghers are well off, but I'm not sure even we match them.

Then again, I'm not entirely sure their money comes from legal sources. There are rumors the Nightshades deal in arms and contract killing. Remembering their reputation just makes me angry all over again that Bishop's been working for them without telling me.

What if he got hurt?

I'm not worth it. I wish he would just realize that.

"Probably the middle one." Archer points to the ring smack-dab in the center of the gym. I'm doubly glad they cleared out everyone. With where Luca wants to spar, the whole gym would get a front-row seat to my beat down.

"Sounds good," I respond before striding toward it. I strip off my hoodie as I walk. Having a loose top will just give Luca something to grab on to. He doesn't need any more advantages over me than he already has.

Someone makes a strangled noise to my right. Turning, I see Cain roving his eyes over my torso. "You're not wearing a shirt," he grits out.

"Um. Yeah. I have a sports bra on," I reply, confused about why he's staring at me like I'm naked. My high-rise leggings come up to right over my belly button. With my sports bra, there's, at most, six inches of my torso showing.

The boy needs to get out more if this is what gets him going.

After one last look at my bare midriff, Cain scrubs his hand over his face and turns away. I stare at him for a beat, wondering what his deal is.

"Your neck and shoulders are exposed, Izzy. You're taunting his wolf," Bishop informs me helpfully.

My eyes widen in realization.

Whoops.

I totally forgot wolves like to chow down on their mates to show possession. Usually, wolves mark their mate in the crook of the shoulder. My strappy black sports bra definitely shows off my neck and shoulders.

But I don't have anything else with me to wear. He's just going to have to deal with it. Shrugging, I continue to the boxing ring. It has a square perimeter blocked off by ropes. I wonder why Luca doesn't want to spar in the octagon, which is usually used for MMA fighting.

I duck under the ropes to get into the ring. When I straighten, I turn toward the hallway we just came out of.

Luca prowls out of the corridor as I turn. I almost swallow my tongue when I see he's wearing a pair of blue-and-white fighting shorts and nothing else. The entirety of his tanned torso is on display. My gaze bounces between his huge pecs, starkly defined abs, and the V that peeks out of his shorts.

Holy hell. He's even bigger and more muscular than I thought.

I'm also distracted by his tattoos. On his left pec, he has a snarling wolf wrapped in vines. The vines have thorns and star-shaped flowers. Luca has more of the spiked vines trailing down his left arm.

I'm so distracted by my perusal of him, I don't notice he's reached the ring until he's stepped inside it. "Like what you see?" Luca asks in an amused voice. My eyes bounce up to his, and my cheeks burn slightly at getting caught checking him out.

Scoffing, I retort, "I've seen better." That's a big, fat lie. He's, by far, the most muscular man I've ever seen. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that, though.

He chuckles at my obvious lie. "First one to tap out loses. That good with you?"

"Yep," I chirp, more than ready to get my humiliation over with.

"You want any protective gear?" Luca asks, glancing down at my bare hands and shins in worry. He's not wearing anything, so I don't see any reason I have to.

I open my mouth to refuse when Bishop pipes up. "Wear the damn gloves, Izzy. Your hands are already bruised enough."

He chucks a pair of MMA gloves at me before I can refuse. Luckily, my reflexes are fast enough to catch the gloves before they smack me in the face. I glare at Bishop, who just grins at me in return. Shaking my head, I put them on without complaining. Bishop's not going to leave it alone until my hands are protected.

Giving Luca a nod to let him know I'm ready, I walk to the center of the ring. I hold out my fists for him to bump. He walks up and gently taps my comparatively tiny hands with his own.

We circle each other, each observing the other and looking for an opening. Watching Luca doesn't make me feel better about sparring with him. There aren't any obvious weaknesses I can exploit. He's faster, stronger, and better trained than I am.

Sighing, I decide to go on the offense. In a burst of speed, I rush toward him. When I reach him, I hook my leading leg under his weight-bearing leg. Pulling on his leg doesn't topple him to the ground, but it does unbalance him. As he stumbles, I dart in and land a jab to his gut. Before he can react, I dance out of his reach again.

Luca raises his eyebrows at me, surprised I managed to land a hit. I snort. "Did you think I didn't have any experience sparring? I'm not a complete idiot to challenge you to something I've never done before."

He just shrugs with a small smile, not saying anything. We circle each other once more. I rush him again, faking him out with a low kick. He dodges it but can't dodge the second low kick I aim at him.

I quickly get out of his reach once I've kicked him. With how giant he is, I can't get too close. If he has a chance to get me to the ground, it's over for me.

Luca rewards me with a full smile this time.

What a weirdo. Why does me kicking him make him grin?

He rushes me, not giving me any time to think about it. Luca lands a soft hit before retreating.

We continue like this for a while, trading kicks and hits. He pulls his punches and kicks. I don't, and it still doesn't seem to make a difference to the wolf. It feels like I'm hitting solid marble anytime I connect with his body. I'm pretty sure it hurts me more than it hurts him.

Eventually, I'm worn out from the back and forth. "Stop fucking playing with me, wolf boy. Just finish this." I'm too tired to keep up with him.

He stares at me intently for a moment or two.

Then he charges. There's no warning he's about to move. One second, he's on the opposite side of the ring from me. The next, he's crashing into me, taking me to the floor. I don't even have a chance to react. Much less dodge.

Luca sticks a hand behind my head to keep me from banging it on the floor when he takes me down. He straddles me, his heavy hips pinning me to the ground.

But it's not Luca I see over me.

Instead, I'm bombarded by flashes of unwanted bodies pinning me to hard surfaces. I can almost smell their rancid breath and feel their cruel hands grabbing places they shouldn't.

Fuck! Nope. Not today. This is not fucking happening right now.

I'm a goddamn idiot.

Bishop has pinned me so many times while sparring, and it never made the memories surface. So, I thought I was safe to spar with Luca. But a man I just met pinning me down is apparently a different scenario to my fucked-up brain.

I need him to get off me before I break down. Bucking my hips doesn't do anything, and I'm too lost to the memories to remember my grappling training. So, I gasp out, "Get off me!"

Luca smirks at me before seeing my wild eyes. He immediately scrambles off me, kneeling and holding his hands up in surrender.

I want the floor to open up and swallow me now that Luca's seeing this piece of me that I keep hidden from everyone, including Bishop and my family. Closing my eyes, I try to hold off the tears that want to spill down my face. When I realize I can't, I hop up.

"I need a minute," I shout before rushing off toward the locker room.