Bared: A King's Hart Novel Book 3 (BWWM)

VI. Lies of the Past

Nathaniel.

There's nothing to describe the anguish in my heart and in my head. It's hard to know which emotion to grab hold of, so I chse the most pressing one. . . rage.

With rage I jab, kicked, crossed, uppercut and hooked the punching bag in front of me, Michael's face the target of all my anger.

Touched what was mine.

Fuck his scrawny, English, bottom feeding, ingrate- -

"Nathaniel. Y'alright ami?" Ambrose stepped from behind the punching bag, beads of sweat moving down his face as he tried to catch his breath.

"Fine." I round house kicked the bag and stepped away still reeling.

"Bold faced lie man. It be jus us here ami. Ambrose know when t'ings ain't right." He brought me a towel and water bottle.

"I don't want to talk about it man." I took them both, threw the towel on the boxing ring floor and poured the water over my head before returning back to the punching bag. 

This was one of the first venues I built moving down here. A place like this was sure to keep the folks here entertained and busy.  Two boxing rings, ecompassed by the best equipment money could by. From the younger boy and girls to the adults, this place a gem in teh rought. I was certain a champion could be born here in Savoie.

Fucking had big dreams for this backwaters town. . . and it was all for nothing.The woman who wanted this is nothing more than a heartless, gutless, selfish bitch.

"I understand de frustration me, some fool be chasin' after Maggie . . . he be a dead fool by now but... dis right here jus childish man."

Ambrose kept talking but I blocked him out, preferring to continue in my childish pursuit of throwing a man sized fit. I had no intentions of stopping until the images of Michael and Nuri kissing were gone from my head, and the noise of Emma and her lies completely dead to me. 

After some time, Ambrose returned behind the punching bag and let me go at it for as long as I needed. Some more time went by and he sighed. "Since we here now, I should tell y'dat de surveillance didn't pick up much of anyt'in'."

I slowed my pace enough to process his words, but still kept at it.

"De petite come t'rough de lobby, heads f'de elevator, turns f'de stairs. No cameras in de stairwell, which by de way is a crime scene waitin' t'happen. More like beggin' t'happen."

"Nobody went in after her?"

"A few actually," he said his brows furrowing. "Some come in t'rough de lobby, only t'ree up de stairs, all men. I t'ought one could be de guy but turn out dey college students been living in de building since dey freshman year before  de Petite  moved in. Dey went right in an didn' come out since."

"So what are you saying? Did she imagine it?" I stopped and gave him a pointed look. 

He held his hands up. "I'm sayin' she was scared an in panic when she come t'rough de lobby. De t'ree men was not after her."

". . . and when I went down the stairs t'de lobby?"

"Nuttin'. Y'went  t'de lobby an not a person or t'ing looked suspect."

I looked down at the floor and shook my head placing my hands on my hips. "When Nuri came up those stairs man. . . she looked like she saw death herself. She was shaking and just completely afraid. I went down to the lobby looking for something - - someone. Anything. But there was nothing. I didn't want to  think that she was imagining things but, I won't lie and tell you that the thought didn't cross my mind."