Free Sneak Attack by Cari Quinn Page A

“Besides, I don’t need more people interfering in my life with their well-meaning advice. Bad enough my brother—” She fell short, shook her head. “Never mind.”
    A fairly recent injury, extensive rehab, serious attitude problem, women issues, brother battles. This one was a full bag of what the fuck . A smart guy would put her in for a new trainer and sign up for someone without an iceberg on her shoulder.
    Me, I enjoyed challenges. Especially ones who’d taken a punch or a kick to the face like that and come back for more.
    “I got hurt last year.” I dug the tape out of my pants pocket and started wrapping my knuckles. She’d want to spar when we were done talking. I could almost feel the energy and aggression pouring off her lithe frame.
    “Yes, I know. That’s why you left.” She hid her disgust under a thin layer of civility. Very thin.
    “No, that’s not why I left. Didn’t have a damn thing to do with it, actually.” I wiggled my fingers and tightened the tape. “I left because I don’t have a killer instinct.” Ignoring her sound of derision, I continued. “Oh, I can put it on in the ring. I think my fight record proves that. But the grind took a toll. Not because my body couldn’t hack it, but because my mind wasn’t in it to win it anymore. Eventually the cage bars were all I could see and I wanted out.”
    “So you expect me to believe that orbital fracture by that punk kid didn’t have anything to do with it?”
    “That punk kid has almost an unbeaten record. He’s almost the same age as I am. And that fracture was the best fucking thing that ever happened to me. It woke me up.” Second best , I amended silently, lifting my head. “I wasn’t too scared to fight. I was tired of fighting because I was scared.”
    “Okay, seriously, what kind of trainer are you? You look like you have stones under those track pants but there are absolutely no men I know in mixed martial arts who say—”
    “Talk about my stones once more and I’m gonna start thinking you’re sweet on them.”
    She frowned. “I might’ve been, if they didn’t bear the mark of Jaws.”
    I couldn’t help laughing. I liked this girl. Bravado and all. “As I said, I think my win record speaks for itself. I continue to take martial arts classes and I’m also learning the other side of it. My major is sports medicine. So yeah, maybe I’m a little unconventional. But I’ll work you hard, probably harder than you’ve ever been worked in your life. And I won’t let you walk into that cage without the skills to back up the talk. You can count on it.”
    Her chin came up, inadvertently revealing more of her scar. Or maybe intentionally. She probably wore it as a badge of pride. “You don’t know what my skills are yet.”
    Finished wrapping my other hand, I dropped the tape to the mat and leaped to my feet. “So why don’t you stop talking and show me?”
    An hour later, she was dripping sweat and more tired than she wanted to let on. I sent her off to the showers with a promise to work up a plan for her that would get her where she wanted to go, as well as got her to agree to a day off between sessions, at least at first. She said she was months out from her injury and no longer suffering many ill effects, but I could tell from the way she was rubbing her head that she had a bitch of a headache coming on. Whether or not it had anything to do with pushing herself too hard, I wasn’t a sports medicine major for nothing. I wasn’t going to have her getting injured again on my watch.
    After taking a quick shower and changing, I stopped by the office and gathered my books to head to the bar for a quickie cram session before my shift started. Vinnie’s wasn’t exactly a high-end establishment but a few hours a day there usually helped pad my wallet, especially when it came to tips. Whatever money I made went straight into my account for expenses for Mia and me. I was planning to put her name on it someday soon,