Page 61 of All Our Ghosts

He moves past me without a word and stops in front of a row of lockers. Dex opens the doors, pulling out a set of boxing gloves and a set of padded gloves. I huff, frustrated that once again he’s ignoring me.

“Dex!” I all but yell. “Why are we here?”

Turning to look at me over his shoulder his eyes trail my features, narrowing for a split second before turning back to close the door to the locker he had opened. “Because that temper of yours is short-fused right now, Andrews, and it doesn’t hurt to learn how to defend yourself.”

I cock my head to the side.Temper? What fucking temper?

“I know how to defend myself,” I say plainly, pinning back my shoulders and crossing my arms over my chest.

He turns to me, holding a roll of tape in his hands. “Humor me?”

I stare at him for a moment before dropping my hands and holding them out for him. I tried to take a few boxing classes back in Florida but the moment Jeremy found out I was forbidden from taking them again. He canceled my membership, which I didn’t find out till I had tried to attend thenext class. I still remember the embarrassment that flooded me as the coach walked me to the front door.

Dex takes my right hand and begins wrapping it in tape before moving to my left. “You might be fooling Blake and Cole, Kadence, but you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry,” I mutter as he helps me slide the gloves over my hands. He glances up at me through thick dark lashes and shakes his head.

“Prove it.” He challenges. “You’ve been sulking around the shop for a week. You haven’t said more than a few words to Cole.Prove it.” Dex finishes tightening the gloves around my wrist before slipping the padded gloves over his hands and moves to step into the middle of the mats.

“Dex–” I stare, turning to him.

“What do you have to lose Kade? A wasted hour? C’mon, hit me.” He grins.

“I’m not doing this.”

“Why not?” He pushes as I try to pull the gloves off and miserably fail with the lack of my fingers.

“Because I’m not angry!” I snap at him, the frustration finally spilling from me.

His brows shoot upward towards his hairline as he cocks his head to the side again, “Then. Prove. It.”

I give up on tearing off the gloves, wanting to prove my point. I’m not angry. At least I don’t feel angry. Frustrated? Sad? Yeah. I gave up on anger a long time ago and learned to shove it deep down because it’s easier than taking it out on people who don’t deserve my anger.

I position myself in front of Dex and hold up my hands in front of me. He watches as I pose myself and shakes his head, tapping my elbows with the pads. “Tuck’em in and protect your chin.” I adjust myself and glance up at him, waiting for more instructions but he only nods. “Now hit me.”

He holds up the pads in front of him. I focus on them before laying a punch onto the one covering his right hand. My eyes flicker to his as he nods in approval.

“Again,” he urges. I let out a huff and swung again, hitting his left hand. Dex stands straight again. “Turn your hips a little more–there you go, again.”

I suck in a breath before swinging, landing one on his right hand letting out the breath I’m holding. He shifts on his feet before shaking out his hand with a pointed look.

“You can do better than that, Andrews,” he taunts.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Dex,” I huff, pushing the hair that has fallen into my face behind my ear with the glove, “this is pointless.”

He chuckles. “Man, you are stubborn as hell, aren’t ya?” Slowly he pulls the pads off of his hands and tossed them to the mat. “You wanna tell me why you’re hellbent on ignoring O’Neil?”

I stare at him before shaking my head. “How can you not be pissed off at him?”

“Why are you?” He counters as he walks over to the punching bag in the corner of the room. Dex turns and crosses his arms over his chest.

I follow him and stand on one side of the bag as he rounds the other side, holding it in place with his hands. “He gave you up, Dex, isn’t that some huge no-no for you guys?”

“A huge–?” He tilts his head back and laughs. “We can handle ourselves, Kadence. Stokes needed to showboat for the town to keep us in his good graces. I’m lucky I’m not sittin’ in a cell over in Stockton right now,” he nods towards the punching bag. “Now hit.”

I glare at him for a moment before readying myself. “And what? You all just jump and don’t ask how high?” I hit the bag once and then twice, shaking out my hand as he steadies the bag.

“It’s the way things are.” He confirms though the words are strained and through gritted teeth. I glance around the bag at him but he pushes on it, letting it swing towards me until I stop it with the fists of the gloves. “Again.”

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