Tyler's Undoing (7 page)

“All right, son, let’s see what you got,” my father called out. “Make sure to concentrate.”

Anticipating another fighter’s moves was one of the most important things you needed to learn in the ring. If you could anticipate their moves, you could hit them in their weakest spots. I was good at everything but that, and it pissed my father off more than anything. He was an expert at it. Every time I failed his approval, I had to hear how unfocused I was and how I would never win the title.

Padded up with his boxing gloves, my father circled the ring and I countered him, trying my best to concentrate on his movements. He was good at psyching people out, including me. I would give anything to move like him, but I had strengths he didn’t possess. Sometimes, I wondered if he even realized that.

Once his posture shifted I knew his strike was coming to my left. When I dodged, he smiled and nodded his head. “Good, son,” he praised.

He struck again and again, each time I deflected his attacks. “See, I’m not so bad?” I remarked excitedly. It was the first time I’d thwarted every single attack.

The second I let my excitement get the better of me, my father swung and snapped my head to the right side with a hard punch. Out of every single fighter I’d fought against, my father had the hardest hit. Head ringing, I rolled my neck and cracked it, massaging my jaw.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” I grumbled.

Sighing, my father slipped off his gloves. “That’s your problem, son. You get too cocky and it gets to your head. Stop letting it control you.”

“It was only one hit,” I challenged. “I’ve taken plenty of hits and still came out on top.”

“Yeah, but it only takes one to make all the difference. You fight Kyle in three weeks for the title. He’s gotten ruthless with his fighting. I just want you to be ready.”

“I will be,” I promised.

“I sure hope so, son. The last thing the league needs is Kyle taking the title again. Everyone’s counting on you.”

Yes, I know.
I wasn’t going to let anyone down.

Once I closed up the gym, I started on my way home and called Bree. She was on a date with Cole, but he knew I was going to call.

“Why hello, Tyler,” she answered the phone.

“Hey, Bree. Are you still with Cole?”

“Yes, I’m here cocksucker,” Cole called out. “You’re on the speakerphone.”

“Okay, I’ll make this quick so you two can get back to . . . well, whatever it is you were doing. Anyway, I wanted to see if there was anything you could tell me about Kacey. Something that’ll help me out.”

“Honestly, I don’t know if anything will,” Bree confessed. “She was pretty adamant on keeping her distance. She did, however, say she would
maybe
hang out with all of us one day. Knowing her, she’d still try to avoid it if I asked her to go.”

“That’s a start though. Make sure not to tell her about Friday.”

“I won’t.”

“What about hobbies? What does she like to do?”

“She likes to play golf. Her father taught her when she was a little girl. She talks about it all the time, but I don’t play. I usually just go with her and drive her around in the golf cart. Do you play?” she asked.

“Of course,” I lied. “Maybe I’ll see if she’ll do that with me.”

“That would be amazing,” Bree squealed. “She’ll love to play with someone.”

I had never even set foot on a golf course before, other than the local putt-putt when I was a kid. I mean, how hard could golf be?

“What else does she like to do?” I inquired.

“Um . . . she likes to go running every morning. If I could get up early enough, I’d go with her, but she always goes at like six in the morning. That’s too much for me.”

Now that was something I honestly did as well. I just usually went running around my neighborhood. “Where does she run?”

“She goes to the local high school by her house, to run on their track. If you show up there tomorrow, you better not mention I had anything to do with it,” she warned.

“I won’t.” I chuckled. “Just tell me which school she goes to and I’ll pretend this phone call never happened.”

She sang like a canary and we hung up. Kacey was going to be pissed.

BREE HAD DROPPED me off a little after ten o’clock last night and I was up again at half past five for my morning run. It was my daily routine: run, take care of Nana, eat, work, and sleep. By the time I got out of the house at six, the sky was already pink and gold with the rising sun. It was beautiful.

Cindy’s shift ended at seven, giving me just enough time to wake up, put on my black workout shorts and bright yellow T-shirt, and get my running done before my grandmother woke up. Sitting at the kitchen table in her scrubs and her auburn hair pulled in a low bun, Cindy was busy documenting my grandmother’s chart when I walked past.

“Be careful, sweetheart,” she murmured.

Grabbing my iPod off of the kitchen counter, I slipped it into the holder on my arm and placed the ear buds in my ears. “I will. I’ll be back in about forty-five minutes.”

Time to run.

The local high school was only a quarter of a mile away, so it never took long to get there. It was the end of the school year, but there were always a couple teachers who did their morning runs there as well. I was never alone, which was comforting.

Before taking off on the track, I scrolled through my albums and picked one of my favorite bands, Avenged Sevenfold. Usually, I listened to pop, classical, nineties music, and even songs from the sixties, but when I ran I wanted something harder, more untamed.

Once my favorite song
came on, I took off running, enjoying the tension release of just letting go. Other than playing golf on the delicate green grass of a golf course, running was my other secret pleasure. It gave me time to think, to pretend I was somewhere else, where I didn’t have responsibilities weighing me down.

I wasn’t exactly a fast runner, but I could get at least three miles done in thirty minutes. I thought that was pretty good. With one lap down, I made sure to keep my pace steady so I wouldn’t lose my momentum—which was promptly thrown out the window when I felt a presence close behind me. A little too close.

Quickly, I glanced over my shoulder and lost my footing. Before I could fall on my face, Tyler scooped me up and twisted me around so that he took the blow when we landed on the ground. Breathing hard, I lied on top of him while my mind caught up with what just happened.

“What the hell are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?” I snarled, smacking him in the arm so he’d let me go.

Guffawing, Tyler let me go and got to his feet just as I did, his face alit with humor. “You’re welcome for taking the fall, beautiful. I can’t help it you’re clumsy.”

Humiliated, my face turned blood red, cheeks burning. “I am not clumsy,” I shouted. “I can’t help it you snuck up on me like some creeper.” Brushing off my legs, I huffed and started back on the track, hoping to get away from him. It didn’t work.

“Okay, so you’re not clumsy,” he gave in a little. “It must’ve been the sheer pleasure of seeing me again.”

Picking up my pace, I gritted my teeth and kept on running. I didn’t care if my lungs burned like fire. “Can you please go bother someone else? I’m going to call the police and tell them you’re stalking me if you don’t.”

The only people who knew I ran at the high school in the mornings were my grandmother, Cindy, and Bree. I was pretty sure I knew which one had told him.

“Ooh . . . I’ve never been in handcuffs. I might like it,” he teased.

“I am so going to kill Bree for this. You have a lot of balls coming here, knowing I have no interest in you.”

He kept up his pace beside me, not even breaking a sweat. I envied his stamina because I felt like I was about to pass out.

“You may not have interest in me, but I’m interested in you. I’m not going to leave you alone until you give in.”

“Then be prepared for disappointment, Tyler. I told you before, you’re not my type and I sure as hell am not yours. See, I’m a
real
person, not just some whore who’ll ride your cock and leave when you’re bored. I’m better than that. So do us both a favor and stay away from me. I don’t want to be one of your many conquests.”

His pace slowed and eventually he fell back, letting me go. I hadn’t finished my laps, but I needed to get out of there. Especially after I saw his disheartened face just before he dropped back; he was genuinely upset with what I’d said. In my heart, I wanted to turn around and apologize. Maybe he wasn’t what I accused him of, but in my experience, almost all of the fighters were complete asshats. I couldn’t be sucked into that trap.

Besides, he wouldn’t even be talking to me if he knew my brother was Kyle Andrews.

IT WAS FRIDAY—two days had passed since my encounter with Tyler—and I hadn’t heard a word from him. Either I’d spoke the truth and he gave up on me, or I’d really hit a nerve. I was hoping he gave up on me, because if I really hurt him, I’d feel bad about it.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” Bree asked. “You’ve been moping around here all day. Cheer up, our shift’s about to end.”

“I know. I guess I just have a lot on my mind,” I replied.