Page 16 of Filthy and the Beast

“It’s fine. My trainer Reggie was over. I’m only doing what he tells me.”

She gives me a skeptical look, but accepts it.

“Bored out of my mind,” I admit. “If I didn’t have Damian around to annoy me, I’d probably lose my shit.”

I think about his date Friday night. Suddenly, I want to punch the bag, and now I’m mad I can’t without throwing out my back again.

Nat chuckles. “Your live-in nurse?”

I snort. “You know he’s not a nurse.” I rub my chest, consider telling her about the pains, but I don’t want to worry her. “I just mean I hate being inactive. Can’t do shit. Good there’s someone here, even if he makes me want to holler.”

Nat purses her lips.

“What?” I bark. I back up to the post in the middle of the room, using it to stand straight. She keeps staring at me, and I ask again. “What?”

“What’s up with this Damian guy? Why are you acting weird?”

“I am not.” I feel annoyed. “Jab, cross, hook, slip lead, slip back, roll lead, roll back.”

She sighs but jumps into the basic routine. “What’s his story? Does he talk boxing with you?”

“He’s not a boxer.” I bump my head back against the post and realize I’m smiling. “That’s not the point. Why are we talking about Damian?”

She laughs. “I don’t know, weirdo.”

I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. He won’t be around more than a few more weeks. I’ll heal, and it’s too expensive to keep him.”

I’m paying him more than I probably need to, but even if we negotiated a cheaper rate, dumping this much money into a service I won’t really need doesn't make sense.

Nat keeps on with her exercise. “Expensive? I’ve never heard you mention money before.”

Because I haven’t had to. First I had my career. I bought my mansion and planned to keep building my fortune so I could leave it all to Nat one day, die knowing she’d be taking care of. Then my career ended, and I tended to my investments.

Never told Nat the money was for her. Thought it would be better for her spirit if she didn’t know she had a fortune coming.

Except the cash dwindled faster than I thought it would. Some of the investments went bad. And Nat fell in love with a multimillionaire and launched her own career.

I’ll still leave her the house. Even if she doesn’t need it, that will feel good. There just won’t be a fortune with it.

“I’m fine,” I tell her. “But I have been thinking. I’m too young to retire.”

Nat stops punching the air. “What does that mean?”

“It means I sit on my ass too much.”

Damian has joked a few times about my “lair” and what I do in the shadows. Sure, I train Nat once a week. I rescue dogs. I tend the garden, manage my investments, fix shit that gets broken. Spend plenty of time at the lake.

But Damian witnessing my life up close and personal makes me see it differently.

“It’s time I work again.”

Nat cocks an eyebrow. “I’ve always said you should be a trainer. You insist it’s too personal, but you could make a good dollar if you got over that.”

I rub my beard. “I train you. Isn’t that enough people?”

“What, then? Are you going to return to boxing?”

I wince. She knows better. “No one would have me,” I remind her.

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