Page 44 of Resolute

I know I’m no saint, butfuck, I’d never talk about an ex the way he did about Camila—especially now that he’s married.

I park in front of Onyx, and Owen parks right behind me. I'm glad he suggested we come blow off some steam. That way, he can’t blame me for leaving his face a bloody mess.

By the time I’m changed, gloves on and mouthguard in place, Owen joins me in the ring.

“So you couldn’t wait, huh?” he asks as he throws the first punch.

“I wait for no one, and you know it.”

I do a one-two punch combo that he avoids easily.

Fucker.

I need to be less predictable.

“So, wait a minute, let me get this straight,” he says, punching me in the gut, and I feel the air leave my lungs.

“Are you pissed because I used to fuck your assistant?”

That does it.

I push him against the ropes and wipe the smirk off his face by punching him mercilessly in his ribs.

The fucker laughs, and I hit him harder.

I’m blinded by fury—is this a game to him?

He breaks free from where I had him caged in and walks around, breathing heavily.

“That’s right, Camila is one sexy little thing,” he says smirking, showing me his mouthguard.

And that’s exactly where I punch him.

“Fuck,” he says after blood spills from his mouth. “She was an English as a second language student when I met her, and she actually thought I wanted a real relationship with her.”

He scoffs. “She’s a delicious fuck toy, but something serious? As if I would marry a foreigner.”

Is that how he sees me too? An alien?

Fuck that.

Camila is an exceptional woman. He doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.

Right then and there, I decide I’m done with this friendship.

I hit Owen in the ribs, hard enough to hear a crack.

He shouts in pain, clutching his middle as he slides slowly to the ground.

“You don’t deserve to speak her name. Camila is way too much of a woman for you. Stay away from us, or that won’t be the last bone I break,” I say.

He continues whining in pain. “You twat! You broke my rib,” he spits out as some of the people who were training nearby come over to see what’s going on.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” I mutter, already heading back to the locker room.

Before taking a shower, the urge to check on Camila takes over me, and before I can think better of it, I dial her number.

“Boss?” she answers, and I breathe a little easier.

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