Page 15 of Phoenix's Redemption

My jaw clenched. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, even though I agreed this was what it had to look like to everyone else.

After about five minutes, I left the sauna and stepped out into the cool hallway. On my way to the men’s locker room, I made a vow to myself to find a way to reach Sophie.

A COUPLE OF DAYS HADpassed since Sophie and I had sex in the sauna, but my mind kept replaying those moments. I could still feel the heat from her skin against my body, the ghost touch of when our mouths pressed together. And there I was, in the middle of the octagon, sparring with a partner, letting the memory of Sophie's nearness distract me.

I launched into a spin kick, a move I'd done a thousand times before, but this time my foot landed wrong.

“Ah.” A sharp pain shot through my ankle. I went down hard on the mat. Pain surged up my leg like wildfire.

The main training room of Warrior’s Den got quiet before other fighters and coaches closed in. Collapsed on the floor, I felt the stares from around the gym as the weight of concern, judgment, and even failure. Behind all that, I had a deeper worry: Sophie's reaction. She'd warned me not to push too hard.

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath, cradling my injured ankle. It was turning red already.

Sophie was the first to reach me. She got on the floor, one cool hand extended to check my ankle. “Liam, are you okay?”

The gym's murmur hushed to a whisper as I pushed off the mat, my fingers digging into the foam. I tried to stand, hoping my pride would be stronger than the sharp throb in my ankle. "I'm fine," I growled through clenched teeth, refusing her outstretched hand and those of others that blurred at the edges of my vision.

"Take it easy." Sophie's voice cut through the fog of discomfort, her tone steady. Her hand on my shoulder guided me back down. "Let's have a look at it."

"It's nothing," I lied, dropping onto the bench with a wince I couldn't mask. She knelt before me, her fingers gentle yet firm as they probed around my ankle. "I just rolled it," I insisted. "It'll be fine tomorrow." Even as I spoke, I saw the doubt flicker across her face.

I felt like a kid caught in a lie. Around us, the others exchanged glances, some sympathetic, some filled with disbelief. I could almost hear their thoughts:O’Connor’s done. No tournament for him.

"Give him space, please" Sophie said, and the crowd dispersed.

"So here’s the plan. You're a fighter," she murmured once we were alone, her hand still on my ankle. "You're used to working with injuries. We'll work through it."

"Thanks," I muttered, the word hollow as I stared down at the bruise starting to bloom on my skin like a shitty tattoo. My thoughts churned with regret over the prideful mistakes that had led me to this point. I worked hard to get stronger and here I was, grounded by a bad spin kick.

Was I clinging to a dream that ran its course? Could I still call myself the Phoenix of Fury Combat if my body refused to cooperate? With Sophie standing by me, I clung to a sliver of hope. Maybe I could get it together in time to fight in the tournament. And tell her how I felt.

Chapter Seven

SOPHIE

Ileft Warrior's Den feeling deflated. Seeing Liam get hurt tugged at my insides. His stubborn pride always got in the way of him accepting help, but today he finally gave in, allowing me to assist him with his injury. I got his ankle iced and wrapped up before sending him home to rest for a couple days.

I hoped he would take the time to recover properly, though I worried if he would be ready for the tournament. I promised to do my best to help him get there in the best shape possible. But what did the best shape look like, with injuries to his wrist and ankle?

One evening, I walked home from the grocery store, my arms heavy with a bag that held a week’s worth of dinners. My mind carried its own weight of thoughts. I kept going back to my time with Liam in the sauna.

I allowed him to get closer to me than anyone. Our bodies joined with a connection I never experienced before. I knew I could go back and forth, flirty one minute and trying to be professional in the next. It took two to play the game, only this time I wondered if I wanted to play for fun or for keeps.

“Keeps? Sure.” I questioned my logic as I mumbled to myself. Liam was the most up and coming fighter in Fury Combat, if not the entire sport of MMA at the moment. What made me think he’d want me to be along for the ride forever? One night at my place and a sexy hour in the sauna didn’t exactly equal long-term potential.

I kept walking while I carried the reusable grocery tote bag, the canned goods weighing down my arms. I knew how important Liam’s career was to him. As much as I began to care for him, I wouldn’t mess things up. Besides, I still had my secret search to complete. The last thing I wanted to do was get Liam mixed up in my hunt for a criminal. And as much as I didn't want to admit it, Liam’s presence gave me something pleasant and important to think about besides my stressful secret task.

Where was Jack hiding? Would Liam’s injuries heal in time for him to compete in the tournament? My steps were heavy with these different thoughts.

The chilly evening air seeped through my hoodie as I strode down the quiet street towards my condo, but it wasn't the cold sending shivers down my back. It was the uneasy prickle of being watched. I tried to dismiss it as leftover adrenaline from all the pressure I was dealing with to get Liam ready for his matches.

I reinforced my grip on the grocery bag, attempting to shake off the unease. It still clung to me. I’d walked this path home countless times, always enjoying the quiet after hours of coaching and strategizing with Liam in the gym. Tonight, the familiar route felt foreign.

Turning a corner, I caught a sudden movement. A silhouette etched against the dim glow of a streetlamp. My heart thumped, a rapid rhythm to match my footsteps. Tall with masculine angles, the figure stood motionless. An instinctual warning flared inside me.

Was it him? Was it Jack?

Reaching into my jeans pocket, my fingers brushed the cool metal of my pepper spray canister.Keep walking, I coached myself.Eyes forward. Stay alert.

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