Page 15 of Liberator (Serpent Sinners MC #2)
Chapter 15
Vikki
“Use your whole body, Vikki!” Colt yelled at me for what felt like the thousandth time. “You don’t have enough strength behind the punch when you don’t. You’re not kissing the enemy. You want to put the fucker on his ass!”
“I thought I was,” I moaned back. I was covered in dripping sweat. Every muscle was crying out in agony. My feet burned and my fists were raw and bloody.
“Here,” he called and tossed me a towel. “Wipe the damn sweat out of your eyes. You’re not really concentrating on your movements. You act like your afraid of hurting someone, which is the opposite of what I need you to do. Your thumb healed, so stop trying to protect it.”
“I don’t know what the hell you expect!” I screamed in his face. “I’m hitting as hard as I can. Shut the fuck up or help me!”
“That’s it! That’s what I need from you. Use the anger! Get pissed!” he demanded.
I swung at the pads in his hands. I hit them harder than ever before, yet it still didn’t seem to affect him.
He suddenly dropped the pads and came storming toward me, swaggering as usual. I didn’t back away. He’d have ridiculed me if I had. Instead, I held my stance and glared at him. He moved behind me, jerked me back against him with an arm around my waist, pushed the area below my ribs and commanded, “I want the punch to start from here. Breathe, use these muscles, take a small step with your right foot, and let out a grunt when you swing. All of that will add to the power if you’d just fucking listen to me.”
He was so close to me I could smell the shampoo he’d used that morning, even over the sweat we both were streaming. He was hot and hard against me, but I felt nothing except determination to please a teacher. Colt was as sexy as hell, yet I didn’t desire him.
I felt him stiffen his muscles and he pulled me closer before allowing his hand to caress my stomach as he released me. It didn’t take a college degree to understand what he was doing and why.
Rage had walked into the boxing gym. He’d seen me in Colt’s arms, and my teacher had seen a chance to enrage his friend just for kicks. Since I’d taken a shot at Rage everyone had been trying to see how far they could take him by baiting him just to see his reaction. He always gave them a show, and I always ignored his actions. He didn’t own me. I had to prove that, so I took the other’s flirting and baiting in stride.
“It’s time to go back to the club and get ready for your shift,” Rage ordered, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me several feet away from Colt.
“Not yet,” Colt defiantly said. “I want to get her hands around a gun before she leaves today.”
“That’s not necessary. I can teach her to shoot,” Rage announced.
“That’s not what Prime wants. Flame and Vikki are under my direction until he says differently. I’m the fighter and I’m the man with the most lethal shot. This is what I do, so don’t try to interfere.”
“I say she’s had enough for today,” Rage stated, nose to nose with Colt.
“And I say she’s not finished,” Colt replied.
“And I make my own damn choices. I’m still here, so quit acting as if I’m invisible. I follow Prime’s orders and Flame’s suggestions. They both say I have a lot to learn and a long way to go, so I want the first lesson with the gun,” I proclaimed as I tried to get between them.
“You shouldn’t push yourself so hard,” Rage told me.
“Yes, I should. All of this is new to me. I’m way behind Flame and your male prospect in everything. I’d double the lessons if I could. Let Colt help me. Go back to the club. I’ll find another way to get back,” I replied, flinging the wet, stinking towel at his face.
“Wash up, then be sure to dry your hands really well. You don’t want them slipping on the gun,” Colt said, turning his back on Rage.
“I’m not leaving!” Rage called out as I headed for the locker room.
I shot my middle finger into the air over my head. Colt’s laughter followed me into the locker room.
Squeaky clean and dressed in the jeans and t-shirt I’d bought earlier that day I took the gun from Colt. It was cold against my palm and lighter than it appeared. Still, my hand shook slightly. I took a deep breath to steady my wildly beating heart.
“It’s okay, Vikki. It won’t bite. The damn thing isn’t even loaded. You can calm down. You won’t be shooting at anything today. I just want you to get used to how it feels in your hand. The goal is that it will eventually feel like an extension of your arm, a natural part of your body. You’ll instinctually use it when necessary and ignore it when it’s not needed,” Colt explained.
“That’s going to take a while. It feels foreign to me. It’s cold, hard and scary,” I answered.
“Not for long. We’re going to make you pals with it. Before I’m done it’ll be your best friend and you’ll want to take it everywhere.”
I gave a nervous laugh and said, “I think I’d rather be its boss than its friend.”
“Whatever makes you happy,” he replied with a grin. “Hold it in your hand like this.”
He manipulated my hand around the grip and placed my fingers in an unnatural position. I knew Rage’s eyes were on us through the glass, bulletproof window that separated him from us. I could feel the tension wafting off him through the concrete walls.
“Raise your arm in front of you so we can see how well you handle the weight. You can use the other arm for balance. Most of us do. If this model of gun isn’t the right fit, we have plenty more. Each Sinner has their favorite,” Colt told me.
My arms trembled but I obeyed.
“Relax your elbows and your shoulder slightly,” he explained as he wrapped his arms around me and helped me position the gun at a better level.
He suddenly laughed and spun me in a circle so that I was facing the observation glass. He had me point the gun at Rage who was shouting through the glass, unheard because of the soundproofing. His words were clear enough by the movement of his mouth. He was saying, “Get your fucking hands off of her!”
“Put him out of his misery. Let him take you back to the club. I’ll see you at the same time tomorrow,” Colt said and relieved me of the gun.
I marched past Rage without looking at him. Once we were in the parking lot I continued charging over the pavement pretending I hadn’t seen the huge, black Ram truck Rage preferred when he wasn’t on his bike. I intended to walk all the way to the club.
Footsteps thundered behind me. Large hands lifted me off the ground and over a muscular shoulder. I kicked and squirmed, even used my nails like a tiger’s claws. Rage grunted but didn’t release me until he dumped me into the truck. I scooted across the seat to get out the other side, but he was too fast for me. In an instant his large body covered mine. Both of us were breathing hard, which was difficult for me considering the fact that I was crushed under his weight.
His fingers squeezed my jaw, turning my face toward his though I valiantly tried to fight him. His mouth devoured mine in a demanding kiss. I stiffened. I wasn’t going to give in this time no matter how much my body wanted him. I was going to be the winner in this round.
I bit his lip, hard. He howled and blood dripped off his mouth. Roughly, he nipped at my neck, sucking at it to mark me, claiming territory that wasn’t rightfully his.
“Stop!” I demanded.
“Why? We want each other. You can’t deny it,” he stated.
“Because you’re hurting me and I’m saying no,” I clearly replied.
He was off me in an instant. Cold air rushed over my heated body. I was suddenly lonely and bereft. A small part of me regretted stopping him. But the bigger part of me knew he needed to understand that I wasn’t his to abuse or use. We were going to be equals once I was inducted as a Sinner. If there was sex between us it would have to be a mutual choice. If there was ever going to be more than that, Rage had to respect me. I wasn’t going to be one of the girls who gave their bodies to the club members just so they could hang around. I was different.