Death of Me | Now Published to Kindle and Paperback!

Just Another Training Session

A/N: Since I made you guys wait so long before an update, I figured I'd give you another fun little filler chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Thirty-Two: Just Another Training Session

            "Do not try to walk back to the warehouse." My eyes rolled of their own accord as I hopped out of the SUV. Rounding on Vincent, I made sure to let him see the glare I was giving him. "I'm serious."

            "Okay, Mom. You're giving Dante a run for his money in the mother hen department."

            "I just want –"

            "Me safe," I finished for him. The look he gave me promised punishment, and as amusing as it was to push his buttons, I knew I had to let up. At least a little. "Vincent, I love you. But what are you dropping me off for?"

            "Self-defense."

            "With who?"

            "With your trainer that you've been seeing for months."

            "And?"

            "And he's the reason you were able to put me flat on ass earlier."

            I beamed at him, slinging my duffel onto my shoulder. "See? I'm going to be fine. And I know you've got a lot to do with Weasel-Face –"

            "Henry."

            "Whatever. I know you have a lot with that deal going on. Who are you taking with you?"

            "Brandon and Arkin."

            "So, as soon as I'm done, I'll call Lucas. I promise." I had a sneaking suspicion the boys were going with him to avoid me, but I'd let them get away with it. For now.

He crooked his finger at me. Arching my brows, I simply crossed my arms and leaned against the seat. Vincent smirked, and that was all the warning I got before his hand shot out. His fingers wound into the front of my shirt, and he yanked me forward. A yelp of surprise escaped as he hauled me back into the car with him.

            Before I could even think about chastising him, he kissed me.

            "That mouth is going to get you in trouble," he murmured, pulling back enough to snare me in his gaze.

            "It usually does," I replied. I leaned forward again to peck him on the cheek, and then I disentangled myself from his grip. "But you're going to make me late. I'll see you tonight."

            He grumbled something unintelligible as I shut the door. Trying not to laugh at his expense, I waved before entering the studio. Vincent only pulled away from the curb once the door was shut behind me. Trying to tame the smile on my face into something less dopey, I turned to the reception desk.

            As I expected, it was empty. Sherry was rarely here whenever I had my afternoon appointments with Jack. As much as I loved meeting with him in the mornings, I almost preferred the later times. The gym was quiet, and it was usually only the two of us when we met this late. Sometimes I would stay for hours practicing whatever new technique we had gone over in training. It had gotten to the point where Jack was about to let me have a spare key so that I could lock up if I wasn't ready to leave when he was. It happened more often than I cared to admit. I wasn't sure why he still put up with me.

            The man put a lot of faith in me. And I was so thankful he had taken that chance all those months ago.

            The light was on in the studio we typically used, so I made my way back to it. Jack was in the far corner, working through a series of jabs and punches against one of the punching bags. For a moment, I just studied him. He was carrying so much tension in his shoulders, more than I had ever noticed before. His hits were short, clipped, and precise.