Page 121 of The Masks She Wore

?He hit the ground with a thud, rolling back and righting himself before lunging.

?I shoved myself high into the air, but he had anticipated it.

?He slammed into me with the force of a dump truck, knocking the air from my lungs as we hit the ground, my head snapping back, hitting the mat painfully.

?“Fuck,” I grunted as he pinned me down.

?The sweat from his nose dripped to my chest, his eyes flaming in pride. “Good, but not good enough.”

?I fought against him, but even with both of us slick with sweat, his grip was firm. “Fuck you,” I snarled. I was plenty good, but not good enough to beat a decade of training.

?He smiled. “You will.” He shoved himself to a stand, letting me get up on my own.

?It’s been almost two months since I heard anything from Malachi regarding my father.

?Two months since Jack locked Max and Nora in the basement at the cathedral.

?Two months since we found that name, Blanchard.

?Two months since anything happened at all.

?He wasn’t sure why. It didn’t make any sense for everything to just stop. He had spent hours and hours on the computer, on his phone, looking for anything about this Blanchard guy that had been mentioned at the Mayor’s party, but every Blanchard we found only led to another dead end. We had nothing.

?Despite that, despite zero leads, the stalemate, I found myself grateful.

?Every single day for the last two months, we trained. He forced me to shift my diet, cut out coffee, become the healthiest version I could be.

?The first month had been brutal. My body ached all the time, I had bruises constantly, sprains, I was more exhausted than I thought possible, but that didn’t stop us from fucking like rabbits every chance we got.

?Everything was a lesson. From the fucking to eating to the actual training, there was always something new to be learned.

?However, we were both shocked to learn how natural I was at it. Some things I had picked up as if I had been doing it my entire life. The stances, certain moves that felt like instinct to me. What broke me was how out of shape I was, but now?

?I was in the best shape of my life. It did wonders for our sex life, and I felt unstoppable. I had never looked better. There were still a few things I feared. Killing someone again, for one, but I would do whatever I had to do to live. That was the name of the game.

?Kill or be killed.

?Jack pulled out his phone as I rolled my shoulders. That last night we spent in the house only lasted until I slipped into a sex induced coma. When I woke up, my cunt was sore, I was tied to a bed that wasn’t mine, and all of my things were set up around the room.

?During the time I was unconscious, he had fucked me several times, moved all of my things over, unpacked everything, and fucked me again. I was pretty certain he had drugged me, but honestly, I didn’t care. I had gotten fucked, I had gotten to sleep, and I didn’t have to unpack anything at all. What a dream it had been.

?That had become a new game of ours, something I absolutely loved. Especially when he gave me just enough sedative to put me on the verge of unconsciousness. Everything felt so goddamn good then.

?The house was beautiful. In the woods a few miles away from the cathedral, away from the city, which I loved more than I thought I would.

?I still went to LA from time to time, but after he had the Initiates build us an entire building filled with training equipment, I found myself not going as often as I had in the beginning.

?I had everything I needed here, there was no reason to be going out and searching for clubs or drugs. Not that I had the energy to do it anyway.

?The only thing I felt somewhat guilty about was not getting in contact with Viv. Sometimes we went months without talking anyway, but the guilt was still there despite knowing that we had never actually gone to school together. Who was she to me? How did we actually know each other? How did we meet? All questions I could answer if I would just grow a pair and call her.

?But everything was so good right now. Was it selfish of me to want to hold onto that for as long as I could before shit hit the fan again?

?“Fine.” Jack hung up. “I have to go on assignment.”

?I nodded, reaching for my water bottle. “There’s been nothing here,” I agreed. “In LA?”

?“Texas,” he responded.

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