Page 69 of Vendetta

“What do you mean?” I cautiously asked, not wanting him to stop talking. I wanted to know more about him, to hear about his life outside of Ivybrook, but I also didn’t want to push too far and have him shut me out again. It took a bit for him to answer, but I made sure not to rush him, patiently listening as he began.

“We didn’t have the best living situation before my mom met David. We lived in a small run-down apartment in the city, barely big enough for the three of us. That, coupled with the fact that we struggled to afford food most of the time, meant that a dog was out of the question. Emory understood that, but it didn’t change the fact that she wanted one more than anything.”

Cashton grew up poor? How had I not known that?

“My mom finally decided to turn her life around after Emory’s father beat me nearly to death when I was seven. She met David shortly after, and he brought us in.”

My heart clenched at the thought of a seven-year-old Cashton laying in a hospital bed. How could anybody do that to a child?

“I’m so sorry, Cashton…” I whispered.

“I haven’t spoken to her since Emory’s death. My mother, I mean. I can’t bring myself to face her. I should have been there that night, I should have been there to protect her.”

He blamed himself for her death. Everything suddenly made a lot more sense. He felt responsible for not being there for her that night. The realization made my heart throb for him.

“Cashton, there was nothing you could have done,” I spoke softly.

“I was out looking for her while she was dying. I should have gotten there sooner, should have gone back to the house, and maybe I would have gotten there in time.”

He continued to stare blankly ahead, lost in thought. The pain in his voice was palpable, the longing and regret.

“It’s not your fault,” I told him truthfully. “Don’t torture yourself wondering what could have happened differently, because it won’t change the past.” I paused as I contemplated my next words.

“I didn’t know her well,” I started, not sure if he was still listening or too lost in thought to care. “But from the little time I spent with her, I could tell how much she loved you.”

A lone tear ran down my face as I remembered the enthusiasm in her voice when she had spoken to me about her brother. The way her face had lit up. She always seemed so happy when I saw her in the hallways, unbothered by everyone and everything. She was like sunshine. I hated that I hadn’t known what had happened to her that night. Maybe in another life, we could have been friends. If I had pulled my head out of my ass long enough to truly notice her.

“And I can only imagine that she would have hated to see you torn up like this over her.”

He said nothing, still staring off into the distance as the sounds of the dogs barking filled the space around us, his forearms braced on his knees.

The dryer’s tune sang through the space, and I got up to grab the laundry and let him process his emotions in peace. It didn’t take me long to replace all of the beds and blankets, making sure each animal had something cozy to sleep on before making my way back to the lobby and finding Cashton already waiting by the front door.

Locking up behind us, I tucked my hands in my front pocket and let a breath out into the chilly afternoon air. Realizing that he wasn’t following me to the car, I turned to see him make his way across the parking lot and to the gym around the corner.

“Where are you going?” I yelled behind him, figuring that we would just be going home.

“I told you that I was going to the gym. You can come with, or you can wait in the car. Your call,” he threw over his shoulder, his steps not slowing one bit.

I debated my options before taking off after him, jogging to catch up with long strides. Making our way into the building, he held the door open as I followed him inside. Boxing rings made up the left side, while punching bags and other gym equipment made up the right, mirrors lining the walls around the entire space.

I spotted Kaptan in one of the sparring rings, not even breaking a sweat as he threw punch after punch at his smaller opponent, the gloves absorbing most of the impacts. Heavy metal blared through the speakers, a few other bodies working out around us.

Cashton re-adjusted the bag over his shoulder, making his way around the front desk and bending down to grab something before throwing me a few items. I looked down to find a sports bra with the gym logo in my hands, along with a pair of black spandex shorts sporting the same logo on one side.

“This way,” he muttered, heading towards the back of the gym where I guessed the locker rooms resided. I made quick work of changing, throwing my hair up into a loose ponytail before finding him waiting for me by one of the vacant punching bags hanging from the ceiling.

He worked me through a few drills, coaching me through his warm up and teaching me basic punches such as jabs, hooks, and upper cuts, guiding me through each movement. A shiver ran through me as he placed his hands on my bare waist, showing me how to twist my body and use my core to power up my punches. It felt intimate, his breath brushing across my cheek as he spoke in my ear, his body pressed into my back. I had to admit, keeping my focus on the exercises proved quite difficult while he stood this close to me.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he called it, my limbs limp as noodles as I let myself fall to my ass on the soft mats. The sun was slowly beginning its descent through the front wall made entirely of windows, and I fought to catch my breath as I watched him stand and take off his shirt. I lost my breath for an entirely different reason, his chorded muscles gleaming with the lightest layer of sweat, the crouching tiger tattoo on his chest bold against his beautifully golden skin.

“Don’t start drooling now, princess,” he winked, my mouth shutting as I realized I’d let it drop open at the sight of him like this. Damn, that was embarrassing.

He left me sitting there, making his way over to one of the sparring rings and exchanging a few words with Kaptan before trading spots with the smaller opponent who looked close to fainting.

I watched as they began sparring, both of their chests on full display as they stalked around each other, their movements practiced and intentional. It was mesmerizing, like a dance between two hunters—Both of them waiting for the right time to snap.

My heart stopped as the first punches were thrown, every muscle working as their bodies moved. They were works of art, terrifying creatures of violence. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Cashton, his green eyes bright and mesmerizing as his sweat-soaked hair hung down over his eyes.

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