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Mack took it like a champ, but Ethan knew that kick would leave a bruise.
By the fourth round, fatigue had crept into their limbs, but neither showed it. The strikes were sharper, more deliberate. Mack came in with a brutal combination—jab, jab, hook, kick. Ethan blocked the jabs and dodged the hook, but the kick slammed into his side again, stealing his breath.
He clenched his teeth. That one hurt like a motherfucker.
Fine.
Ethan retaliated with a vicious one-two combo. A cross nailed Mack’s jaw, and as he stumbled, Ethan dropped low, sweeping Mack’s legs.
Mack hit the mat with a grunt, but he was up in an instant.
“Damn,” Mack huffed, shaking out his arms. “That was good.”
Ethan grinned, wiping sweat from his brow. “I’ve been practicing.”
The final round was a war.
Their movements blurred. The sounds of fists and feet colliding with flesh filled the gym. Each strike was met with either a calculated block or a brutal counter. Mack was breathing heavily, and Ethan felt the burn in his lungs. His body ached, muscles screaming in protest, but he didn’t stop.
Mack threw a high kick. Ethan ducked.
Ethan launched an uppercut. Mack dodged.
The final seconds of the match were a flurry of rapid blows, and at the last moment, Ethan landed a sharp cross to Mack’s side, making him stumble back a step.
The bell rang.
Both men stood there for a beat, chests heaving, sweat dripping onto the mat.
Mack exhaled a short laugh and reached out. Ethan clasped his hand, shaking firmly.
“I’d say you got me this time,” Mack admitted, rubbing his ribs. “But next time, I’m coming for you.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Ethan smirked, rolling his sore shoulder.
They moved into their cooldown stretches, the fight still buzzing in Ethan’s veins.
“I have to say,” Mack muttered, flexing his hands, “your counters have gotten sharp. Almost didn’t see them coming.”
Ethan grinned. “I’ve been watching and learning.”
“Good.” Mack smirked. “Because next time? I’m not going easy on you.”
Ethan chuckled, shaking out his arms. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
* * *
Ethan stoodmotionless under the steady stream of hot water, head bowed as the shower pounded against his shoulders. His muscles felt like overcooked spaghetti. Physically, he was spent. The fight had taken everything out of him. Mentally? His mind was running at a hundred miles an hour.
His mentor, whom he still hadn’t met after ten years, had dropped another puzzle in his lap last night. “Puzzle” in the loosest sense of the word. Every challenge was intricately woven into Guardian’s security infrastructure. Sometimes, it was the computer systems. Other times, it was the communications network or logistical frameworks. The workout at Casey’s with Mack was what he needed to get himself out of his own head.
Ethan wasn’t just a CCS operator anymore. He’d become more. Unknowingly, over the years, he’d been groomed into theguardianof Guardian. The systems he monitored weren’t just limited to private security anymore. His reach extended to government institutions—the White House, Congress, international banking systems—places he’d once thought were untouchable. His skills had expanded exponentially, and he owed it all to his enigmatic mentor.
The man had an uncanny way of stretching Ethan’s abilities past what he thought possible, constantly testing, pushing, and daring him to redefine his own limits.
And Ethan had.
Exhaling sharply, he ran his hands over his face. The fact that he was a genius meant little in the world of Guardian Security. Intelligence was practically a family trait. His father, Lycos, was a certified genius. Ethan would never consider his sperm donor his father. That bastard was evil to the core, and he was glad he was dead. Lycos was the only father he’d ever known. His twin half-brothers, Dixon and Drake? Equally brilliant. His aunt, Jewell? Insanely smart.