Broch made a small disapproving noise and Catriona shot him a look. “I’ll be fine.”
He nodded. “Oh, ah ken. Ah juist dinnae ken if yer in the richt mind fer this.”
Catriona strode to the equipment area and suited in headgear and sparring pads. The man moved next to her and donned his own, smirking at her as he did.
Oh I can’t wait to smack that look off your face.
Finished padding-up, she moved to the mats to await her opponent.
“My name’s Jake, by the way,” he said as he took his position across from her.
“I don’t care.”
He held out his closed fist to bump. “I just wanted you to know what name to call out for mercy.” He leered, his gaze shifting in Broch’s direction as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you can scream my name out again, later.”
Catriona smacked her gloves together to draw his attention back to her and then tapped on her chest.
“Don’t be afraid of him. Be afraid of me.”
Jake laughed. “Whatever.”
She bumped his glove with her own and dropped back, readying. As she suspected, he attacked seconds after the bump, running at her, flailing his arms like a monkey in an attempt to rattle her. She dodged and circled to the opposite side of the mat, avoiding him easily.
He turned to face her again, grinning.
“You gonna run away from me all day?”
Catriona smirked. “That was my gift to you. A moment to reconsider.”
Jake raised his hands again and moved forward, thrusting out his foot in an awkward sidekick. Catriona moved out of the way and spun toward him, striking him in the side of the head with the back of her fist as she whirled past.
Jake grunted and ducked too late, stumbling off the edge of the mat.
He spat a curse as he corrected his balance and hopped back on the mat, pounding his gloves together as if he were psyching himself up for the next attack.
“You sure you want to do this?” taunted Catriona. “You’re really not very good.”
Jake raised his gloves. Moving in, he kicked at her shins and she blocked him with her foot. He thrust forward with his right hand and she deflected. He threw a haymaker, stumbling forward, a victim of his own momentum. As she pushed him past her, he stabbed the back of her arm with the point of his elbow.
Catriona turned toward the pain and saw his fist coming, a punch aimed at the back of her head, now about to strike her in the ear.
Cheap shot.
She dropped and punched forward, striking him in the lower abdomen with all her strength.
With a loud oof! Jake dropped to his knees, his gloved hands clutching at his stomach.
Catriona had her fist raised, ready to punch him in the head, when she heard Broch behind her.
“Cat. Na.”
She stood there, fist shaking in the air, seeing only white. Slowly, she felt her control return and saw Jake wincing beneath her. She swallowed and lowered her hand. Jake’s face pinched with anger and pain.
“Dirty bitch,” he spat through gritted teeth.
“You started it.” She strolled off the mat. “I think we’re done here.”
“I’m going to report your ass,” he said, taking his hand from his stomach long enough to point at her.
“Whatever.”
Catriona held out a hand toward Broch, silently asking for help removing her glove. His smirk seemed uncontrollable.
“He deserved that.”
“I know. Ow.”
As he unpeeled her wraps, she felt a sharp pain run through her wrist.
“Are ye well?”
“I think I might have jammed my wrist on his liver.”
Broch took her wrist in his hand and held it tight, acting as a makeshift wrist wrap. He tugged on her, just enough to make her look at him. When she did, he kissed her on her sweaty forehead.
“Yer terrifyin’,” he whispered.
She felt her face grow warm. “He picked the wrong day to be a douchebag.”
“Ah dinnae ken he gits a day aff.”
She laughed. Broch released her wrist and they walked to their area, where she removed her pads and threw her wraps in her bag. As she did, she noticed her wrist no longer ached. She moved it back and forth and side-to-side, searching for the motion that had made it twinge.
Nothing.
Weird.
They gathered their things as Jake moved to his bag without saying a word. As they left, Catriona glanced back. Jake had been watching her, but he quickly looked away.
She smiled.
Her frame of mind had improved from the morning. The exercise and the pounding she’d given the jerk made her feel a little better about life. It was still a life without Luther, but, maybe he wasn’t really dead. Gone, but not dead. She, Kilty and Sean had all died, only to appear again somewhere in another time.
She’d come back as a baby last time. Maybe Luther was a baby now, somewhere far in the future. Some giant, star-baby.
The thought made her smile.
She pushed open the gym door and marveled again that her wrist remained pain free.
She eyeballed Broch as they walked to the car.
“Whit?” he asked, feeling her gaze on him.
“This might be a dumb question, but do you think it’s possible you can heal people?”
Broch laughed. “Whit?”
“All my aches and bruises from my fight with Volkov disappeared after we slept together.” She looked away, embarrassed by how she’d phrased her sentence. “I mean literally slept together, so close in that little bed.”
Broch scowled. “Aye?”
“And just now you grabbed my wrist and the pain went away.”
“That’s nice tae hear ye ken sae, bit—”
Catriona grabbed at the spot where Jake had pounded his sharp elbow into the back of her tender arm and felt a
