Single Girl Abroad (Mills & Boon M&B) (Mills & Boon Special Releases) (21 page)

BOOK: Single Girl Abroad (Mills & Boon M&B) (Mills & Boon Special Releases)
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Sometimes it could be about giving in.

She slid off him then and took his hand and led him up the stairs and to his bed. They shed their clothes until they
stood naked in the half-light and then she reached for him again.

‘Would you do it?’ she whispered as they sank down onto the bed and into a kiss. ‘Would you let a woman cuff you? Restrain you?’

Only Jianne would ever have dared ask such a thing of him. Only for Jianne would Jake have made the decision he did. He never took didn’t take his eyes off her as he lay back on the bed, raised his arms over his head and wrapped his hands around the wrought-iron bars of the bedpost. They’d stay there now, no matter what, until she drew them down. ‘Only you.’

She started at his throat. By the time she got to his stomach he’d bent the bed bars but he did not let them go. He bucked beneath her hand as she slid down even lower. He died a thousand deaths when tip met tongue and tongue danced along his shaft. She knew how to touch him, to drive pleasure to the point of pain. She knew how to soothe him and destroy him all over again. And still his hands did not leave the headboard, even when she mouthed him to the brink once more and then sank down onto him with a ragged little whimper.

He flung his head back and cried out. He strained against the words that bound him but he did not let go. Not until she slid her hands up his arms and past his wrists to prise his fingers from the bars did he rear up and fist his hands in her hair as the wildness inside him finally broke free.

CHAPTER SEVEN

J
AKE
woke slowly the following morning. Still in his bed with Jianne sprawled out beside him, lost to sleep. Small woman who took up a great deal of space, both in his bed and in his mind. As for his heart—it had always belonged to her and always would.

None of which made morning afters any easier.

The physicality of the sexual act was something Jake revelled in. Problem was, total abandon had always been followed by aching remorse and he’d never really figured out the why of it. Maybe it had something to do with him being too demanding when it came to sex—he who’d spent so much of his time trying to be the strong one, the calm one, the one too balanced to ever demand too much of anything. Maybe it had something to do with losing control the way he did and waking up and knowing he’d have to claw it all back and lock it down hard. Maybe it had something to do with his fear of breaking fragile
things with the weight of his need. And maybe the why of it didn’t matter one little bit.

All he knew was that in order to survive a night like the last one, a man kept his mouth shut and his morning fears to himself and tried hard not to reveal with excruciating clarity how truly dysfunctional he really was.

He slipped from the bed and padded around the wall to where his clothes had once hung. Jianne’s wardrobe now, but there was a box full of old clothes in the corner and old clothes were as good as any other when it came to getting himself downstairs and into the dojo showers where he wouldn’t wake Jianne with the noise.

He found a pair of old sweats and tugged them on. He didn’t bother with a shirt. He closed his eyes and took a breath, wiling calm to come and take away his uncertainty, and fatigue to take away his need for still more of his beautiful and sensual wife.

He started across the vast expanse of space towards the door, his feet making no sound on the polished wooden floorboards. He risked a glance towards the bed. Jianne hadn’t moved but her eyes were open and the desolation in their depths bit deep. He stopped. He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Morning,’ he muttered, and when she didn’t reply, ‘I have to—’ He had to what exactly? Escape?

‘Teach?’ she murmured and propped her head in her hand.

‘No. Not until nine. I, ah, shower,’ he said next. ‘Downstairs.’

‘There’s one here.’

True. This was true. ‘I didn’t want to wake you with the noise.’

‘And you won’t.’ She eyed him gravely. ‘But if it’s distance you want, or need, go right ahead and shower downstairs. Or stay here if you like, and I’ll get up and go in search of some breakfast.’ Jianne glanced down and plucked at the bed sheets with nervous fingers. ‘It’s okay, Jacob. Go.’

It was her fragility that did it. Made him return to her, and sit on the bed and put his arms either side of her as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, the edge of her eyebrow, and finally her passion-crushed lips. He didn’t know what she wanted from him this morning.

She was supposed to be under his protection. Instead he was devouring her every chance he got and dragging her down into a world light years removed from her own. ‘I like what I do,’ he murmured. ‘I like the way I live. This is me,’ he said raggedly as her hand came up to cup his cheek and her lips trembled beneath his. ‘I can’t be like those other men in that ballroom last night.’

‘No one’s asking you to be.’

‘I can’t give you the kind of life you’re used to.’

‘Am I complaining?’ she whispered.

‘You never do.’ That was part of the problem. ‘I never know what you
want
until it’s too late.’

‘I want some of your time of a morning. A look. A kiss. Acknowledgement of what passes between us in the night, even if it
is
so raw and needy that it’s hard to examine it in the daylight.’

‘You have it,’ he murmured, and closed his eyes.

‘Tell me you want me,’ she whispered.

‘I do want you.’

‘Tell me you think of me when you leave me.’

‘I always think of you.’

‘Tell me you don’t regret what happened last night.’

But that he could not do. ‘I’ll bring you some tea,’ he said, and kissed her one last time before he fled. One last ravenous and needy taste of her and a desperate apology all rolled into one.

By Friday, the window blinds were up, Jacob had moved back into his bedroom and Jianne had not moved out. Jianne had put in a tentative request for the downstairs bedroom closest to the kitchen to be turned into a lounge room, of sorts. All he would need to do, she’d told him speculatively, was knock out the wall between kitchen and that first bedroom and she could take care of the rest.

A man was in big trouble when a woman started messing with his walls.

‘How come, if she likes it here so much—and she says she does—how come she keeps wanting to change things?’ Jake asked the soon-to-be married Luke and the ever-helpful Po as they stared at the wall they were about to destroy.

‘The power’s off, right?’ said Luke.

‘It’s off. According to the building plans there’s no wiring in this wall at all.’

‘Brother, this is Asia,’ muttered Luke with a curious lack of faith given that he’d already been all over the wall with a stud detector. ‘Home of creative wiring.’

‘No, this is Singapore,’ countered Jake. ‘Home of every building rule and regulation known to man. By the way, did you know that Maddy can get building alteration plans through council in a day? Tell her I’m impressed.’

‘That’s my girl,’ said Luke, hefting his sledgehammer, showing Po how to heft his in the process. ‘And if you ask me—which, may I remind you, you did—I think getting rid of this wall and opening up a bit of extra living space down here is a fine idea. Face it, brother. Your family’s expanding. You have Po’s needs to consider these days. The boy needs some growing space.’

‘No, I don’t,’ said Po quickly. ‘I don’t even need a bedroom. I can sleep anywhere.’

And had, thought Jake grimly. But not any more.

‘And then there’s the dynasty princess to consider,’ considered Luke blithely. ‘You want her to stay, you’d better start considering her living needs. Besides, it’s not as if she’s asking for a miracle. She’s asking for a couch.’

‘I’m doing it, aren’t I?’ grated Jake and his brother shot him an angel’s smile.

‘Yes, you are.’

‘So they’re really going to do it,’ said Madeline as she opened her apartment door to a waiting Jianne, and ushered her inside, before promptly walking Jianne through to the kitchen where Madeline proceeded to raid the fridge for nibbles. ‘Knock out a wall, free up some living space, and hopefully throw in a new kitchen while they’re at it. May wonders never cease.’

‘I don’t know what came over him,’ said Jianne. ‘It was only a suggestion. A throwaway one.’

‘Also a good one,’ said Madeline. ‘Do we need to shop for furnishings? I think we do.’

‘I can’t,’ said Jianne. ‘When it comes to furnishing Jacob’s home I’m feeling conflicted. I want to shop. I’d
love
to shop for downstairs furnishings. But it’s not my place.’

‘Even though you’re his wife,’ said Madeline. ‘And you’re living with him.’

‘Estranged wife,’ corrected Ji. ‘And you’re forgetting the reason I’m staying at the dojo in the first place. The murderous stalker.’

‘Are you sleeping with him?’

‘The murderous stalker?’ said Jianne. ‘Hardly.’

‘Cunning misdirection will get you nowhere,’ said Madeline smoothly. ‘I’m taking that as a yes. Was it a one-of misdemeanour or is sharing Jacob’s bed a nightly event?’

Jianne blushed and held her tongue.

‘I’m thinking nightly,’ said Madeline. ‘This is, after all, a Bennett male we’re talking about. Which means you’re currently reunited and living with your husband as opposed to still estranged and just renting a room from him. Which means you do, in fact, have some say when it comes to household arrangements. As demonstrated by Jacob’s willingness to tear down that wall on the strength of a throwaway comment.’

‘Is there a point to this conversation?’ said Jianne.

‘Of course,’ murmured Madeline. ‘I’m thinking that if he’s come this far already he’s hardly going to object to a few new furnishings turning up. I’m thinking we’re good to shop.’

Jianne chewed on her bottom lip. She didn’t have Madeline’s optimism.

‘I’m sensing hesitation,’ murmured Madeline. ‘Is it a money thing?’

‘Kind of,’ said Jianne awkwardly. She wasn’t used to sisterly confidences. She didn’t really know how much to reveal. ‘I have money.’

‘Also a talent for understatement,’ said Madeline dryly.

‘Okay, so I have a lot of money,’ Jianne amended with a wry smile. ‘Jacob has considerably less money, although I wouldn’t call him on the breadline by any means. It’s just that we never quite figured out how to turn my money and his money into our money. He never let me use my money for anything and it wasn’t just because of his pride.’

‘No?’ queried Madeline gently. ‘Sounds like pride to me.’

‘It’s not pride,’ said Jianne. ‘You don’t know him. You didn’t see how hard he fought to give his brothers and sister a normal home life after their mother died and their father went … away.

‘Jacob worked as a labourer and studied karate at night and he held that household together. He put food on the table and paid the bills and went to parent-teacher nights and made sure everyone got to play sport and be children. He gave up his time and his heart, and he laid down house rules and made sure that they stuck. Jacob provides for others. That’s what he does, what he’s always done. It’s how he defines himself. It’s why you sent him Po. Challenge that—try and provide for
him
for once—and you strip him, not just of his pride, but his identity as well.’

‘Oh, sweetie,’ said Madeline softly.

‘I learned not to overstep Jacob’s boundaries when it came to providing for his family the hard way. I don’t want to go through that again.’ Jianne looked away from Madeline’s sympathetic gaze. ‘On the other hand I am
what I am, money and all, and if Jacob can’t accept the things I
can
provide, and
want
to provide, then we don’t have a future. Maybe we don’t have one anyway,’ she said quietly, and voiced aloud the notion that haunted her. ‘Maybe I just want to hold onto what we
do
have for as long as I can and if that means pretending our money issues simply don’t exist, then so be it.’

‘Oh, sweetie,’ said Madeline again. ‘I’m hearing you. I am. But give the man some credit for growing up somewhat during these past twelve years. At least give him the
chance
to bend a little when you offer to provide. He might surprise you.’

‘He did say he’d let me pay for the new blinds in the bedroom,’ said Jianne. ‘He hardly even flinched.’

‘See?’ said Madeline. ‘I say we shop, and if you see something that’s perfect for the dojo we just call Jacob up and see what he thinks. We’re not talking about buying the man an island, Jianne. We’re talking about buying him a couch. And possibly a lamp.’

‘A sideboard would work in that space too,’ said Jianne. ‘Dark wood. Simple design. Useful.’

‘You’re absolutely right.’

Luke’s phone rang just as the last section of wall came down. Luke downed his sledgehammer and reached for the phone that he’d left on the counter along with his wallet and a stack of keys. Jake stopped to wipe his face on his dusty sleeve, while Po leaned back against one of the remaining walls and grinned at the mess.

‘It’s Maddy,’ said the boy.

‘How do you know?’ asked Jake.

‘It’s her ringtone.’

‘Maddy and Ji are out kitchen shopping,’ said Luke after he’d talked for a bit and listened for a while. ‘Is there anything you want them to get?’

‘Tongs,’ said Jake.

Luke repeated the request and then sniggered into the phone at whatever was said in reply. ‘That’s not the kind of kitchen shopping they mean,’ Luke informed them next.

‘What other kind is there?’

‘There’s food shopping,’ said Po. The kid was growing like a weed these days and training with an intensity the likes of which Jacob had rarely seen—little wonder he was all about the food.

‘Apparently,’ said Luke, not even trying to hide his grin as he held out the phone towards Jake, ‘there’s also the kind where you go out and you buy yourself a kitchen.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

’J
IANNE
, what are you doing?’ said Jake into the phone with what he thought was a great deal of restraint.

‘I’m not entirely sure,’ she said. ‘Although I am standing here staring at a kitchen that would be a perfect fit for the space you have available. Madeline seems to think I’m nesting. I tend to agree. The problem being that it’s your nest and I really don’t want to intrude.’

‘Isn’t it a little late for that?’ he said dryly.

‘Not really. I’m also considering buying an apartment. Then I could put all the things I’ve just bought in it. That could potentially solve a world of problems.’

‘And Zhi Fu? Where does he fit into your apartment-buying plans?’

‘Probably straight across the corridor. Which isn’t a comforting thought. I may need to buy something freestanding, which is not easy here in Singapore. Also not cheap. Even for me.’

‘Also not safe,’ muttered Jake. ‘Especially for you.’

‘Exactly. Which is why Madeline suggested I call to see if you wanted a new kitchen, thus avoiding all other inappropriate purchases. They can have it installed in a day, and the surrounding walls painted, and floorboards sanded and polished as well.’

‘In a day,’ said Jake sceptically.

‘One day,’ said Jianne. ‘As in tomorrow. Although you won’t be able to walk on the floorboards until the following day, by which time the paint should also have dried.’

‘Where
are
you?’ he muttered.

‘Renovator’s heaven.’

‘You really should leave there at once,’ he said. ‘It’s messing with your brain.’

‘And the kitchen?’

Jake closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘Order the kitchen. Give me the shop’s account details and I’ll send through a deposit.’

‘Jacob—’ He could hear the hesitation in her voice. ‘I’d very much like to pay for this kitchen, and downstairs living area refurbishment. As a gift to you and Po for welcoming me—however temporarily and possibly reluctantly—into your home.’

‘How much?’ he asked curtly. ‘How much is all this going to cost?’

‘I haven’t gone mad,’ she said carefully, although she
was
paying a hefty premium for the speed at which the kitchen would be installed. ‘It’s not some stainless-steel glory, and they’re not furnishings no one would dare to use. They’re in keeping with the dojo and the feel of the dojo. It’ll be like bringing a little of what you’ve done with
the space upstairs, downstairs. One of the couches is not even new.’

Couches? Plural? ‘You’re buying
antiques
now? For
here
? I thought you were in a kitchen shop?’

‘We
are
in a kitchen shop,’ she said soothingly. ‘Now.’

‘Tell her to get a wok burner,’ said Luke. ‘They’re great.’

‘Tell him of course there’s a wok burner,’ said Jianne. ‘No Singapore kitchen should ever be without one. Is there anything else you want to add?’

‘Yes,’ muttered Jake grimly. ‘There better be tongs.’

Two hours later Jianne walked through the dojo and tentatively made her way towards the kitchen. Her bravado while in the kitchen shop had been replaced by a growing anxiety that she
had
overstepped Jacob’s boundaries and was about to find out by exactly how much. She walked through the doorway and stopped, eyes widening, as she surveyed the carnage.

They hadn’t stopped at one bedroom wall, they’d taken out the next one as well. Enough space for a proper kitchen and a big dining setting and living space as well now. Beautiful space that Jianne knew exactly how to fill. If Jacob would let her.

Noise from further down the long corridor of guest bedrooms and a distinct lack of kitchen ware or food in the kitchen suggested that one of those bedrooms was currently being used for storage. ‘Jacob?’ she said.

‘In here.’ He appeared in the hallway, a dusty and dishevelled labourer, from the plaster in his hair right down
to his steel-capped boots. ‘Madeline not with you?’ he asked silkily.

‘No, she’s due back at work for a bit. She just dropped me off.’ Jacob headed towards her and Jianne’s pulse tripled. ‘Where’s Po?’

‘Luke’s.’

‘And your students?’

‘Gone for the day.’

‘This early?’ His late class didn’t usually finish until around seven. Jianne glanced at her watch. Seven fifty-nine. ‘Oh.’ So much for keeping track of time and returning home to a house full of people. She tried a tentative smile. ‘I got you your tongs.’

‘Really?’ The darkly amused challenge in Jacob’s eyes left her in no way reassured. ‘What else did you get me?’

‘Hardly anything,’ she said. Apart from the kitchen and the couches. And the sideboard and a few other bits and pieces he probably didn’t need to know about until they arrived. ‘Much.’

‘I’ve been thinking about your offer to pay for it all,’ murmured Jacob. ‘And my acceptance of that offer. I’m thinking that if you get to assert dominance in one area, I get to assert it in another. It’s a balance thing.’

‘Balance?’ she echoed.

‘Exactly.’ He smiled a tiger’s smile. ‘And dominance.’

‘You know, from where I’m standing you’ve pretty much got the dominance thing covered,’ she offered. ‘What with being the sensei, and Po’s mentor, and my protector and all.’

‘You forgot the sex,’ he murmured, and took her shoulder
bag and shopping bags from her. ‘Right this minute I’m aiming for dominance in that area as well.’

‘I’m really not sure it’s possible to forget the sex, dominant or otherwise,’ she offered soothingly. ‘Believe me, I tried for twelve years. It can’t be done.’ But Jake had set his lips to her jaw and his fingers had found the curve of her spine, and Jianne closed her eyes and gave herself over to sensation and rising heat as she slid her hands beneath his shirt.

‘Hands off,’ he muttered, although she noted he was all about being hands
on
.

‘About this revenge-sex plan because I dared to give you a gift I can well afford,’ she said raggedly. ‘You should probably know that I didn’t just buy you tongs, I bought a whisk and wooden spoons as well.’

Jacob’s teeth grazed her neck and Jianne arched into him and let out a gasp.

‘Shower,’ he murmured. ‘Now.’

‘You mean me?’ She wasn’t above making him work a little harder in order to secure her submission. Jacob thrived on a little hard work. ‘Was that an order? Because, speaking delicately, I’m really not the one in need of a shower here.’

Next thing she was being hauled over Jacob’s shoulder, caveman style, which wasn’t exactly comfortable but did have the advantage of giving her a spectacular view of his beautifully muscled back and rear. ‘You’ll let me know if there’s anything else you don’t want me to buy for you, right?’ she offered breathlessly as he headed for the stairs. ‘Because I think I feel a shopping spree coming on.’ She
traced the curve of his buttocks with her hands. ‘A really big one.’

‘Hands off.’

Next minute a spray of water hit her square on the butt. Jianne squealed. Jacob laughed, and set her down, and dragged her beneath the spray, fully clothed the pair of them as he captured her lips with his.

‘I was okay with the kitchen purchase, more or less,’ he murmured as he shed his T-shirt and set to work on the zipper of her trousers. ‘I was even okay with the tongs. But to buy a man a whisk and wooden spoons as well? Princess …’ Jianne’s trousers and panties went and so did her shirt and bra. Jacob’s eyes darkened and his gaze fixed on her lips. His hands went to the fastenings of his own trousers and he smiled a sinner’s smile. ‘That’s going to cost you.’

‘Someone’s watching the dojo,’ said Po later that evening as he slipped in the kitchen door, via the back alley and probably any one of the dozens of secretive ways in and out of the back alley itself.

‘Where from?’ said Jake, shooting a lightning glance at Jianne. She had a tendency to get concerned about Po’s nocturnal wanderings. Jake had a disturbing tendency to join her, though he was better at hiding it from the boy.

‘The office block across the road and a couple of doors down. Second window from the right, five storeys up.’

‘Could be just someone working late,’ said Jake but the boy was already shaking his head.

‘No.’

Almost a week had passed since their encounter with
Zhi Fu at the fundraiser ball. A new kitchen had gone in. A couple of couches and a muted silk floor rug had gone down in the living area adjoining it. Jacob’s nights with Jianne still ran to glazed and passion-filled torment. Sitting down to meals that she and Po had prepared filled him with quiet delight. He didn’t want a house full of people all clamouring for his attention—been there, survived that—but this he could take. The order she brought to things. The quiet pleasure he took from it.

He’d thought he’d made a good life for himself here in Singapore. One that suited him remarkably well.

Well, now it was better.

Apart from a few niggly little things. An infatuated psychopath and Jianne’s constant fear of what the man might do next being one of them.

‘Blinds closed upstairs?’ he asked Jianne, but she seemed not to hear him. ‘Ji? You okay?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded and smiled but her eyes remained troubled. ‘The blinds are open and so are the windows. It was hot up there this afternoon. I wanted to catch the breeze.’

‘There was breeze?’ he said with a lift of an eyebrow. There hadn’t been any downstairs. It had been one of those still and humid days that frayed tempers and left a body lethargic. His students had been slick with sweat within five minutes of starting an exercise. Shirts had come off and showers had been plentiful. One of his regular clowns had put in a request for some more of that lavender soap.

‘Well, no.’ This time her smile was a little more genuine. ‘What do we do?’ she said next. ‘About the watcher?’

‘Depends what we want him to see.’

Po bedded down early that evening. The kid rarely slept for more than a couple of hours at a time—the kid was largely nocturnal—but that was residual of a life lived on the street and there was nothing either man or boy could do about it. Jake figured that Po planned to go walkabout tonight and see what a boy could see. He decided against sharing this suspicion with Jianne.

‘Do you think it’s Zhi Fu?’ she asked in a subdued voice as they headed upstairs.

‘Don’t know.’ Past caring. And when she went to press the switch that would close the blinds. ‘Don’t.’

She glanced at him, startled. Jake smiled back, an edge of pure cruelty riding him hard. ‘If it is Zhi Fu watching us from that window, watching us now … What would you have him see?’

‘That I’ll never be his.’

There was a remote control to the new blinds over by the bed. Jake found it and when he turned around Jianne stood watching him uncertainly from over near the chair. He headed towards her and held it out. ‘Take it,’ he murmured.

She took it from him and when she did he trailed the back of his hand up her arm until he reached the strap of her pretty cotton top. He hooked his forefinger beneath the strap and began to drag it slowly down, moving around to stand behind her as he did so. Facing the windows now, both of them.

‘No,’ she whispered as he set his other hand to her hip and drew her back against his hardness. ‘He’ll see.’

‘Then close the blinds.’

Jianne gave a soft strangled moan of protest and relaxed
back against him, tilting her head to allow his lips access to hers. He took it, open mouthed and famished and she responded with a sensual abandon that clawed at his control. She pressed the remote and dropped it on the chair. The blinds began to close. Over sixty metres of high slatted windows ran along that wall. The blinds did not close quickly.

Jianne turned towards him slowly, her hands going to the hem of his T-shirt, pushing it up over his head to drop unnoticed to the floor. She set her hands to his stomach and her lips to the column of his throat. Possessively, knowingly, and he fisted his hands in her hair to keep her there. The blinds had still not closed.

Just before they finally did, Jake rested his cheek on Jianne’s temple and slid his hands to the zipper of her skirt and looked up at that fifth floor window across the way from them and delivered a message.

Mine.

The following day started normally. Jake took his early class as usual, and then breakfasted with Jianne and Po before seeing Jianne off to work in a taxi. He sent Po’s schoolwork tutor through to the back when he arrived and he wrote up next week’s training schedule on the board. Po and the tutor would write it out in Chinese on a different board.

By mid afternoon the weather was building towards a storm fest and only the most dedicated of students had bothered to show for his three o’clock class. Three regulars, including Po, and one drop-in. The drop-in signed in as Tup and gave a Thailand address. The name didn’t
register with Jake. The address did. Tup’s town boasted fighting pits backed by syndicate crime. The kind of pits that made death by hanging look like a kindness.

Jake showed Tup through to the changing rooms and then drew Po aside. ‘See if you can get hold of Luke,’ he said. ‘Tell him to get over here. Now.’

Po left and Jake set his remaining students to warming up and working their way through the forms. It took all of two minutes to decide that Tup hadn’t come to martial arts late in his twenty-something life. Tup moved with the effortless grace of someone who’d been steeped in The Way since birth.

Jake knew his own worth as a teacher. He ran a clean dojo. He brought out the best in his students, and his world championship wins ensured that he commanded respect and that he
did
have knowledge to pass on. Knowledge that students didn’t necessarily get elsewhere. Jake didn’t often come across a student who surpassed him but he had
nothing
to teach his newest student that Tup didn’t already know.

The man could have simply been in the area and decided to drop in to train—nothing wrong with that. But fighters of Tup’s calibre didn’t usually drop by unannounced, and nor did they give no details whatsoever of their experience.

Luke and Po arrived about ten minutes into the lesson. Po joined the class. Luke nodded and stood back, arms crossed, with one eye on the door, one on the class, and his back to the wall. Jake nodded grimly and kept right on teaching. Fifteen more minutes into the session they broke for water and sweat-stained T-shirts came off. The
scars, burns, and welts on Tup’s sculpted torso—some of them old and some of them not—told an ugly story and confirmed Jake’s suspicions. Tup was a pit dog, and the fact that Tup was still alive was testament enough to his skills.

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