Page 128 of Midnights
His fist connects with my ribs. Again.
The blow lands hard, driving the air right from my lungs. The pain is immediate. That's for sure going to bruise, but I've taken worse.
“Care to talk yet?”
He doesn't let up. Hit after hit, he keeps driving me back. Relentless bastard. It only drags the monster closer to the surface.
“I’m fine,” I grit out, stepping back to shake off the sting of his last hit.
Cam circles me, keeping his eyes sharp. “Fine, huh? Then tell me what the fuck is going on.” He lowers his voice, but it carries more weight than any blow he's landed. “You’ve been all over the damn place since she showed up. You’re getting sloppy.”
The words land where his fists couldn't and it does nothing but piss me off. I throw a punch, aiming to shut him up, just to remind him whose game he's playing. He unfortunately deflects, proving his point.
“That’s what I thought. Get it together.”
I’m dodging his hits the best I can, but for everyone I avoid, he lands two more. My arms feel heavy, my breath comes in bursts, and he’s not letting up. I swing wide and miss completely, cursing under my breath.
“Alright, alright,” I bark out, holding up a hand.
For a second, I think he’s going to take another swing. Instead, he straightens, raising a slow thumbs-up with a smug grin.
I chuckle, wiping sweat from my forehead. “You’re lucky I’m tired.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, old man.” His grin widens and he stretches his neck like he’s ready to go another round.
I drop onto the bench, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. I need to breathe. To think.
“I assume we still have him?”
“Aye.” He nods, stretching his arms before leaning back against the ropes. “He’s in the basement. Security ran their tests, but nothing matches. He won’t talk and hasn't asked for anything.”
His brows pinch together. “You think he’s connected to our new client?”
I shake my head, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “I don’t know yet.”
I don’t believe in coincidences. The timing is too clean. No, there’s got to be something more going on here. I don’t like being in the dark.
I push off the bench, reaching for a towel. “Guess I’ll have to make an appearance and do your job for you. Just make sure he stays put until I get there.”
The time in the ring took the edge off, but not nearly enough. My body is exhausted, but my mind is still wired, caught between thoughts of everything I have to do. My priority right now is the dumb ass in my basement who thought he could sneak around, and Raven.
Me: How's your meeting going?
A moment later, her response flashes across the screen.
Your Royal Highness: I’m not there yet, but I'm NOT looking forward to it at all.
I can picture her tapping her fingers, glaring at the clock, already over it before it's even started. Poor Meathead doesn't stand a chance.
Me: How come?
Your Royal Highness: Just a feeling I get from him.
Me: Spidey senses just not vibin’ with Meathead Mike?
I wait for her response, but alarm bells are already ringing. I don’t like this. She obviously trusts her instincts, and if something feels off to her, then it probably is.
Your Royal Highness: No, they’re not.
