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Pulling away from Hannah, I spin around on one heel and stomp out of the room, slamming the door behind me. I get all of a few feet before I’m met with the glares of both the Knox brothers and Travis from the seating area in the den.
“What?” I snarl.
“Cut her some slack, kid,” Arsenal pipes up. “She didn’t know.”
“She did.”
“She did but she didn’t, and you fucking know it,” Blaize chimes in.
I roll my eyes and give all three of them the same look, “And what? When we bring them home, all of you just expect me to lie to him?”
None of them will look at me. They simply lower their heads in unison, a glaring response to my question whether they realize it or not.
“No. Fuck you. Fuck you all.”
Slapping my hand against the wall in anger, I turn and take off in search of my room, when I feel someone coming up behind me.
“Get lost Arsenal,” I grunt, in no mood for anyone’s company right now. There’s only two people I want in my atmosphere at this moment and they can’t be here, so I need to find someplace to wallow instead before I go do something incredibly stupid.
“I don’t think so. I know that look in your eyes, and you’re coming with me so you don’t go do something dumb.”
“Coming with you where?”
“Amelia said there’s a gym down here,” he jogs up ahead of me, opening and closing doors until he finds the one he’s looking for. “Here, come on.”
Rolling my eyes, I catch up and go through the door he holds open, and I jog down the steps to find a large gym complete with weight lifting equipment, boxing equipment, and a large area sectioned off with mats covering the floor.
Arsenal walks past me and yanks his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside as he picks up some wraps and boxing gloves.
Has this fucker actually lost his mind?
Kicking his sneakers off to the side, he looks over at me, “Come on, kid.”
“What are you doing?”
“Fighting. Let’s go, West.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I figure what the hell, and kick my sneakers off next to his, tossing my own shirt to the corner of the room. I walk onto the mat and approach Arsenal who takes a few minutes to wrap my fists for me since I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. After wrapping my hands up, he wraps his own and I make sure to watch intently, you know, just in case.
“Alright, you done this before?”
“I mean, I’ve thrown punches… but fighting like… in a ring? Never. You?”
He nods, slipping a set of boxing gloves onto my hands and securing them in place before putting a set on himself. “I mean, I fight underground, it’s kind of my thing. A little less regulated. Sometimes people die, but don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you,” he winks. “Don’t you have a thing?”
“A thing?” I cock my eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, a thing. Something you dive into when it all gets to be too much.”
“I… No?”
“Ahh, you need a thing kid. Otherwise this life will fucking eat you alive.”
“Alright, whatever, let’s go. I plead temporary insanity for agreeing to this shit,” I mutter under my breath as I stand across from Arsenal preparing my non-stance for a fight.
“Come on, get loose. Swing at me.”
I take a few half hearted swings, low-key worried that the calmer of the psycho brothers might lose his shit if I sucker punch him.