Page 118 of Restless Hawke

COEN

The only thing in the world that might have even a remote possibility of hurting as much as what Allegra did to me with her confession is getting punched by Atlas.

Which is why, as soon as I landed back in New Orleans and discovered he and Wren had come home over the weekend while I was in Vegas, this had to be my first stop.

Not home to my condo to wallow. Not to Mom and Dad’s house to tell them what happened. Not to the club to drown myself at the bar after revealing my defeat to Uncle Savage and Gabe and the rest of them.

Here.

I climb out of the SUV and stare at the gym, watching Atlas move around the ring through the massive glass windows. Even shadowboxing, he’s incredible. He moves with such precision. Such speed and power.

How did I ever doubt him?

That familiar guilt tears at my stomach again, and I let my gaze drift to the left, to Wren’s Pilates studio.

She bustles around inside with several of her clients, getting ready to start a class, with a bright smile on her face.

Apparently, their vacation did them both some good.

After the fight and the wedding, not knowing what Satriano might do, they had to leave to feel safe, but now that I have my deal with him, have taken the debt fully onto my back, hopefully they can concentrate on being happy and getting ready for their baby instead of constantly looking over their shoulders.

Bishop joins me on the curb, and the movement draws Wren’s gaze out to the street.

Her eyes meet mine, and her entire body stiffens for a second before a forced smile spreads across her lips. Then she returns to what she was doing, as if I’m not even here.

I can’t say I blame her.

It’s well deserved.

And so will be whatever the man in the ring decides I am due.

Bishop gives me a knowing look. “You sure you want to do this right now?”

Haven’t you been beaten up enough?

That’s what she’sreallyasking without actually doing it.

And frankly, I do already feel like I’ve gone eight rounds with the likes of Atlas after what Allegra did to me. But I owe it to Atlas to face him and what I did like a man instead of hiding and licking my wounds until I’m ready to get beaten down again.

Might as well take it all at once.

“Yep…”

I tug open the gym door and step inside with Bishop right on my heels.

Astrid and Isaac stand on one side of the ring, watching Atlas train, but all eyes turn to me the moment the door closes behind us.

Isaac raises a brow. “You’re back.”

I nod, shoving a hand through my hair. “Just landed half an hour ago.”

Astrid’s gaze travels over my athletic shorts and T-shirt—certainly not my typical attire, even when traveling. “And you came straight here…dressed likethat?”

The wheels are already turning behind her eyes, and Atlas spits out his mouthguard and moves to the ropes, leaning against them. “Why is that?”

There’s no point beating around the bush.

No excuse I can offer.