Page 13 of High Stakes

“First,” he says with a smirk, “you need to get your feet right. Move your right foot here.” He gestures to a spot on the floor. “Then your left foot goes back here. That way you can step into the punches.”

I look over my shoulder at Diego and find him leaning against the wall and shaking his head. His eyes sparkle with mischief. He knows my game better than anyone. After all, he’s the one who taught it to me. I duck my head and bite my lip to seem embarrassed as I correct my stance and put my hands back up. “Ready?” I ask and throw the first combination as soon as he nods once.

Hector’s eyes widen as he ducks and sidesteps my jab cross. “Jesus fuck!” He ducks again as I follow after him, throwing another combo. He throws up his arm, blocks the shot, and then his fist connects with my side in a brutal body shot.

I grunt and stumble backwards. He most definitely did not pull that punch. “Good shot,” I mumble and reset.

“You left yourself open,” he says lightly and bounces on his toes, shaking his arms out to loosen the muscles. “Keep your defense tight. Again.”

Diego claps his hands twice from his place against the wall. “Let’s go, Little Phoenix.”

Hector’s eyes glint as he looks down at me. “Yeah, Little Bird, let’s see what you’re made of.” He starts off with a rapid succession of jab crosses, followed by a few body shots and then a left hook.

I dodge and block each one, but my arms are starting to feel that fatigue that I ignored at the beginning of this match. I shuffle my feet and move back out of swinging range as we circle the ring. His eyes never leave mine as we continue a deadly dance.“First to pin the other wins?” I ask and grunt as he lands another body shot and I block a jab.

“Getting tired?” He taunts and lands a cross. His knuckles crush against my cheekbone and I stumble back, but I don’t fall. That one he pulled, and for some reason that pisses me off. I can take the hits just as well as the other guys. Why should I be treated any differently?

Heat flares in my stomach and my muscles tingle. Red stains my vision as I narrow in on him. My nostrils flare and I use the back of my fist to wipe the sweat and blood from my upper lip.

Hector must sense my change in demeanor because he straightens and glances over my shoulder at Diego.

I hear Diego chuckle. “You did it,” he states calmly as if that should be enough of an answer.

Hector’s gaze shifts back to me just in time. I surge forward in a blur of fists and shouts. My knuckles connect with his nose, followed by his jaw, and then his kidney before he can evenregister what is happening. I lean my body back and lash my foot out. The sole of my shoe connects with his sternum and sends him stumbling back.

“Fuck,” he curses as he regains his footing, I lunge forward again and swing my leg up for a roundhouse kick, but instead of landing the kick against his jaw, I hook it around his neck and manage to use my body weight to pull him down. We both tumble into a mass of limbs, both of us dead set on pinning the other.

Hector uses his weight to twist us until he's sitting on my pelvis with both my wrists caught in his firm grasp. He pulls my hands up above my head and smirks down at me.

I shriek in anger and buck my hips up, hard, sending him sprawling behind me. I twist and sweep my leg out, catching his ankles and knocking him back down. Then I pounce on him and wrap my legs around his midsection. My arms snake around his neck in a wrestling chokehold.

His face turns bright red as I squeeze, waiting for him to tap out. His eyes never leave mine as he raises his hand and taps my bicep three times. I release him immediately and freeze when his head drops back against my stomach.

He heaves in several breaths as he lays motionless against my abdomen, and I’d be lying to myself if it didn’t give me butterflies having him so close to me. “Well played, Little Bird, well played,” he whispers and turns his face to the side so that his cheek is pressed against my stomach and he can see my eyes. He inhales deeply before pushing to his feet.

Diego laughs loudly and doubles over. “I cannot believe you let her hustle you.”

Hector’s eyes twinkle as he looks down at me with a slight smirk. “Did I?” he whispers with a wink. He holds out his hand to help me up. “Again,” he orders calmly and waits for me to get ready.

I am usually the one playing the game and controlling all the pieces in my life, but this time I’m not so sure I’m the only one playing. Hector might not seem to enjoy the game as much as I do, but he sure as hell knows how to play it.

“Again,”Hector calls from the side of the shooting range. The targets reset at various angles and distances throughout the area. “Change the speed,” he orders over his walkie-talkie to the men in the booth behind us. The red and yellow targets start to move faster, darting back and forth sporadically.

“I’m tired of this,” I complain like a sullen child. My voice is muffled by my ear protection.

“Well that’s too damn bad!” Hector shouts and gestures for me to begin.

I ignore his dark glare as I turn and fire off a few rounds at the nearest target. I hit it twice but miss another three times as it jets away. My nostrils flare as I turn my full attention to the next target, burying four bullets in the center. I replace my cartridge and repeat the process for the next four targets, landing two bullets in each one. My fingers tighten around the grip as I feel the air shift.

Hector comes up behind me, his boots echoing through the range. “Well?” He asks, his breath ghosting my neck.

I fight both the urge to shiver and the urge to elbow him in the gut for being so close to me. “It handles well, but it’s too big. I don’t like how it feels.”

“What about the others?” He asks and I look at the handguns laid out on a table in front of me. “Did you like any of them?”

“I liked this one,” I say quietly and swap the gun in my hand for a smaller one. I’m not sure if he remembers or not, but it’s the same type of gun he gave me for my birthday when I turned twenty-five.

Hector comes up behind me again and cages me against the table, one hand on either side of my body. I stiffen slightly and turn slowly to face him, inhaling the scents of burnt metal and his beard oil. “You like that one, Little Bird?”

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