HALSTON
The first thing I heard that morning was a groan.
A long, miserable sound that suggested somebody was suffering greatly.
I didn’t look up.
The estate reports spread across my desk were significantly more important than whatever self-inflicted tragedy Kaira had created for herself overnight.
I turned a page.
Another groan followed, louder this time, disturbing the peace in the room.
I finally lifted my eyes.The sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the master suite, painting the room in pale gold.
Kaira was buried beneath blankets on the far side of the bed, one arm draped over her face.
“You sound healthy enough to survive.”
The groaning stopped.
A few seconds later the blanket lowered.
One bloodshot eye appeared.
When she spotted me sitting across from the bed, her expression darkened.
“What are you doing here?”
“Did you get dementia after yesterday’s activity?” I narrowed my eyes.
She made a face before slowly sitting upright.
The moment she did, she regretted it.
I watched the pain hit.
Her eyes squeezed shut, her hand flew to her forehead before she collapsed backwards onto the mattress.
I took a slow sip of coffee.
“Kaira.”
No response.
“Kaira.”
A muffled sound emerged from the blanket.
I considered that sufficient acknowledgment.
“If I knew a few drinks were all it took to quiet you, I would have kept you locked up in the liquor cabinet.” I teased.
I noticed her freeze, her eyes widening little by little.
The pieces of last night were coming back to her in agonizing fragments.
Perhaps what embarrassed her was remembering she actually smiled at me, or could be the gentle way I had held her hair back in the sickbay while she emptied her stomach.
She groaned, burying her face in her hands, utterly mortified.
I lowered the file slightly.
“An impressive performance right?”
Her face reddened, she looked away while still trying to steady her voice, pretending to be utterly consumed by the thoughts of last night.
“Nothing.”
“You were friendly last night.”
“Stop talking.” Her head snapped toward me.
She looked genuinely offended, which only made it funnier.
“At one point I thought you might thank me for existing.”
“I said stop talking.” She threw a pillow at me, I caught it with a hand.
She pushed herself out of bed, headed for the bathroom as my eyes followed her.
“Don’t you have something to do other than gazing around the room.”
“Don’t you think you should speak nicely to the person you smiled at.” I smirked.
“Get lost” she shut the door behind her.
*********
The meeting should have taken thirty minutes rather than two hours.
By the time Oliver and I returned to the estate, I was already irritated.
The shipment issue had been resolved.
The warehouse dispute had been resolved.
Three men had lied to my face and regretted it shortly afterward.
All in all, it was a productive afternoon.
Yet the moment I stepped through the front doors of the mansion, something felt off, quiet.
Kaira-type quiet.
I loosened my tie slightly as we crossed the foyer.
“Where is she?” I asked.
One of the guards straightened.
“Mrs.
Redd discovered the training facility an hour ago.”
I stopped walking.
Oliver looked at the guard.
“Discovered?” Oliver repeated.
“Yes, sir.”
I rubbed the bridge of my nose.
Of course she did.
Give Kaira Voss an estate the size of a small country and she would somehow locate the one room dedicated to violence.
“Still there?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
I sighed and headed toward the training grounds.
A sound reached me before I entered.
A heavy punching bag swung from its chain.
I stepped inside quietly.
The facility was empty except for one person.
Kaira.
She hadn’t noticed me yet.
She stood in the center of the room wearing black workout clothes, her dark hair tied back into a rough ponytail.
Sweat glistened along her forehead.
The punching bag swung again as she drove another fist into it.
Not bad.
She shifted her weight correctly.
Her stance wasn’t perfect, but it was disciplined.
She was trained properly.
I folded my arms and watched her as she threw a strike left, right, elbow and knee.
The bag rocked, swaying.
A smile almost appeared before I stopped it.
“Your footwork needs work.”
The bag stopped moving, Kaira spun around.
Her eyes narrowed the second she saw me.
“You’re back.” She rolled her eyes so hard I was surprised they didn’t remain stuck.
I raised my brows and grinned, walking closer.
“You hit harder than I expected.”
“All the more reason I do not need you shielding me.”
I smirked.
She was definitely something.
“However,” my gaze swept over her stance.
“someone could still kill you quite easily.” I said, ruining her little pride that was close to exploding.
“There it is,” she muttered.
“There what is?”
“The part where you become unbearable.”
I smiled.
She folded her arms.
“I can fight.”
“I am not debating it, but you keep leaving your left flank entirely exposed like that, and a real adversary would have you taken down within two minutes.”
“So what are you?
A judge?” Her stubborn pride flaring up.
“I’m not a judge Kaira, but I know how many times I had to shove you out of the way so you don’t get killed.”
“I know how many times I covered your back as well.” Her jaw tightened.
“Take the damn advice Kaira.” My palm fell, covering my face.
“Shove it up your ass.” She turned back to the punching bag then turned again to me.
Oliver stood at the door practically pretending not to hear the conversation going on but the glint in his eyes betrayed him.
“As a matter of fact, I’d love to see you do better.
If you think I’m so easily taken down, why don’t you prove it?”
I looked at Oliver.
Oliver looked back at me as if we were exchanging words with our eyes.
I removed my jacket and handed it to him, rolling the sleeves up to my forearms, exposing the dark ink of my tattoos.
I stepped over to the rack, slipping on a pair of leather sparring gloves.
Kaira’s eyes followed my movement.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Afraid?” She lifted a brow, I smiled.
She moved.
I allowed it.
Letting her throw the first few punches just to gauge her rhythm and speed.
She lunged, aiming at my jaw, but I ducked beneath her arm.
Behind her, I locked my forearm around her throat, pulling her spine flush against my chest.
“Dead,” I whispered against her ear, feeling the shiver that ran down her neck at the heat of my breath.
I released her just as quickly, stepping back to let her reset.
Angry, she spun and kicked, aiming for my ribs.
I caught her ankle mid-air, sweeping her other leg out from under her.
As she fell toward the mat, I caught her by the waist, flipping her beneath me and pinning her wrists above her head, my knee firmly locking her hips down. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
My face was inches from hers, watching her eyes blaze.
“Dead again.
You fight with anger, Kaira.
Anger makes you predictable.”
I stood up.
She jumped to her feet, refusing my hand to help her up.
She attacked again.
I allowed three movements before stepping inside her guard.
My hand caught her wrist, the other settled lightly beneath her jaw.
Her expression darkened.
“You cheated.”
I laughed.
“In what universe?”
“You keep using experience.” She looked offended.
“That is generally how fighting works.” I stepped back.
“Again.”
This time she surprised me.
Her movements changed.
She became more calculated, less predictable.
She feinted left then spun to the right and slipped past my guard.
I adjusted but I was far too late.
I looked down.
Something pressed against my side.
Her gloved hand rested exactly where a blade would’ve entered, straight into my kidney.
A lethal strike.
She smiled and my chest did something irritating.
I looked at the hand against my side, then at her.
“You would’ve wounded me.”
Her smile widened.
“Good enough.”
“No.”
I grabbed her wrist gently and moved it upward, pressing it against my ribs.
“Here.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“If you want me dead, aim here.”
Silence stretched between us as we stared at each other for what felt longer than a minute.
I stepped away.
“Good adjustment though.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Was that a compliment?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Oliver looked like he was fighting for his life trying not to laugh.
After a moment, I removed the gloves.
“There is a fighting event tonight.”
Kaira grabbed a towel.
“Why are you telling me?”
I shrugged.
“It sounds like something you might find entertaining.”
She tilted her head to the side.
“Professional?”
“Very.”
“Legal?”
I shook my head.
“Cool.” She glanced at me.
Before I could say anything else, she was already walking toward the exit.
“Time?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Seven.”
She nodded.
I smiled even as her shadow faded.
These days, I was smiling far too often, getting excited over little things concerning her.
I shook my head like it was meant to do anything of impact, perhaps shake off the hypnotism.