CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Locke punched the bag over and over with all his might, the hit reverberating through his entire body, intensifying the pain he relished. Sweat poured over his skin as he forced his whole being into exhaustion.
“Your elbows are too far apart, and you don’t twist your hips when you punch.”
Delivering another blow without looking at Gage sitting on the mat by the door, Locke snarled, “I don’t need a trainer.”
“Normally you wouldn’t, but you’re working out like an imbecile, which is so unlike you. What’s going on?”
Ignoring the question, he switched it up and did a series of punches and kicks, the bag swaying hard. Evading it, he attacked again with a few punches.
Gage sighed on the sideline which made Locke even angrier. What was he doing here? What was he still doing here? He was steady and recovered enough to go back to his apartment and leave him the fuck alone. He normally appreciated his friend’s company, but at the moment, it would be too easy to replace the bag with his face.
None of the exercises, none of his efforts were calming him down and that both scared and infuriated him more.
“Did you get to see Luther yesterday?”
It took a moment for the words to make their way through the storm in his mind. “Yeah. But not long enough. He was busy with some buyers.”
“Any luck buying girls?”
Locke clenched his jaw. “No. I saw a few newcomers from afar but didn’t have access. He’s holding them for a possible trade in, from what I could understand.”
“What about the new arrivals? Any news about that?”
Locke stopped the punching bag from moving, his lungs burning to the point that he felt nauseous. Too bad it didn’t cool down his anger. “No! You have any more questions? If not, can you leave me the fuck alone?”
Despite the explosion of fury in his face, his friend didn’t even blink. “What’s happening to you? Ever since last night you’ve been in a foul mood, and that’s putting it mildly. What crawled up your ass and died there?”
Trying to steady his heartbeat, Locke started to pace up and down his gym, his body restless. Rolling his shoulders, he looked at the punching bag again, as if battering it even more would help. Maybe until he dropped from exhaustion.
Gage pushed himself up, leaning against the wall in a non-threatening pose, but it didn’t work. Locke wanted him out, now, and didn’t know how long he would be able to hold himself back. In an ultimate attempt to make his friend understand, he got his voice back under control.
“Listen, just go, okay? Please?”
Slowly shaking his head, Gage crossed his arms. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you lose it like that. I’m not leaving you in this state. Not until I know what’s going on. Not with Tessa asleep in the other room.”
At the mention of her name on his friend’s lips, something wild and menacing circled inside him. “You think I’m going to hurt her?”
Gage’s expression was cautious, and he avoided answering. “What’s going on, Locke? Answer me.”
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” He yelled at the top of his lungs now, less than a foot from Gage’s face and he didn’t care. Something had snapped inside him, like it had long ago, and it had scared him to the point that he preferred the safety of controlling himself and his environment. And it had worked well until now. “Get the fuck out of my home. Now!”
His friend still immobile, shook his head.
Locke’s muscles bunched to attack when a soft voice came from the hallway, followed by a very feminine body. The doctor’s tumble of rich brown curls were shining and he could smell her perfume, the scent of her skin. She wore a light blue peasant blouse that revealed her shoulders. Clad in a pair of distressed jeans and barefoot, it was like a hit to the solar plexus. There was something about her that affected him on a primal level. And he recognized it as the core of his problem. His trigger.
“What’s going on in here? Why are you yelling?”
She crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up, and Locke’s body reacted instinctively, which made him even madder.
Tessa was about to step inside the gym when Gage grabbed her arm. “Don’t, sweetheart. Locke’s not feeling like himself now.”
All Locke saw was Gage’s hand on her, his vision hazed red and he launched himself at his friend.
Logic was out the door and Gage was ready for it, evading a couple of punches, before forcing him to the floor. A seasoned fighter, it was an easy task for him, which made Locke burn to no end. Gage had always been a better fighter, no doubt about it, and against an opponent who had been burning himself up, working out intensively for more than an hour, there wasn’t any real opposition. It took less than two minutes for the cage fighter to have him on his back, using his weight and pressure points to immobilize him on the mat.
Face to face, unable to move apart from his head, Locke hissed. Undeterred, Gage leaned closer, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I think I know what’s getting to you. Or whom.”
