Page 1 of Undying Resilience

Chapter one

Wren

Note: This book is much darker than the first two in the series. Please flip back and read the Before You Read section if you haven’t already.

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“Harder.”

“I don’t know if I can,” I pant.

“You can, and you will. Harder, Wren.”

I steady myself. Then I pull one of the first jab-punch combinations Rhett taught me. I throw as much force as I possibly can into the punching bag.

“Better,” Rhett says. Then he hands me my water bottle. “Drink up.”

Grabbing it with gloves on is awkward as hell, but I manage. Thankfully Rhett had the sense to pop the lid open for me.

We’re in the home gym at the guys’ mansion. It’s been over a week since I was dragged into the Williams job, and from what I can tell, all three guys are pretty worried they exposed me to their world so quickly.

Rhett seems the most agitated. After what happened last Tuesday, he’s been adamant about me learning how to protect myself. We had our first training session earlier this week, and now we’re back at it again today.

I took a series of self-defense classes in college, but I’m pretty rusty on most of the moves I learned. Still, the knowledge is helping me grasp what Rhett throws at me without too much trouble.

“How did you guys learn all of this?” I ask after taking a couple sips of water.

“Learn what? How to throw a punch?” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone.

“I guess, yeah.” There’s a lot I’m curious about, like how they got into their profession in the first place. But this is a start.

“I started taking martial arts classes when I was young for... reasons.” A shadow crosses over Rhett’s face, and he looks past me, almost like he’s staring directly into his childhood. “Ell and O joined me later on.”

His unspoken words hang in the air between us. After Sammy was killed.

“Everything else followed,” Rhett continues, almost like he can sense that I want to know more. “As we kept looking more and more into who killed Sammy, we made a decent amount of connections. Sometimes we had to do favors for people in exchange for information. It taught us a lot, and it all led us to where we are now.”

“Which is where, exactly?”

“Not close enough.” His voice is clipped as he takes my water bottle, nodding to the punching bag. “Go again.”

“Close enough to what?” To killing Ludo?

“Enough talking, Wren. You need to focus.”

I’m not sure what exactly caused Rhett’s mood to sour, other than the mention of Sammy. I have no desire to make it worse, so I turn back to the punching bag.

For the next twenty minutes, Rhett coaches me on my form, teaching me a new combination when he thinks I’m ready. As time passes, he seems to cool off. Or maybe he’s just hiding whatever’s going on in his head better.

After a while, he has me take my gloves off. Then he leads me to a large black mat on the floor. I stop at the edge, watching him. On Monday, he started teaching me some self-defense moves. They’re helpful, but they usually require me hitting or kicking him in some sort of way.

When Rhett sees the uneasiness on my face, he says, “Why does this part make you uncomfortable?”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.” My cheeks heat. I know it’s stupid—I should be more worried about Rhett hurting me than the other way around. But the last thing I want to do is cause him more pain.

Rhett lets out a half-laugh. “You really think I’d let you inflict that much damage on me, sweetheart?”

“I...”

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