Page 56 of Jump

These fighters have a love for this girl that is reverent and pure. Unconditional in a way I only see when I watch Axel with his niece.

A man’s instinct to survive, to win a fight or walk through fire, is a potent mix of adrenaline and ability that is hard to beat. But that drive to make sure the kid survives… to make them proud… to make damn sure the next generation thrives, is a whole other level I’ve yet to experience.

“Oh, hey.”

I jump a foot into the air and barely stop short of swinging my arm out as I spin in place and stop on a woman not a hell of a lot different from the first: long, mahogany hair, chocolate brown eyes, and little shorts.

But where the younger wears only a sports bra, this one wears a tank top.

Her lips curl up as those in the octagon turn to watch us. Smug, knowing she caught me unaware, she offers her hand and waits for me. “I’m Izzy.” Her voice is soft and sweet. Warm, despite her teasing eyes. “Can I help you?”

“Um…” I glance over my shoulder at the trio watching me from the cage, then back to Izzy, and swallow the lump in my throat. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m—”

“Lieutenant Matteo Ruiz,” she inserts, shaking my hand when I don’t move mine at all. “We know.” She releases me and sets her palms on her hips so she becomes an almost copy of her daughter. “You wanna join our gym, Matteo?”

“You can call me Ruiz. Everyone else does.” Except Vivian. My Ana. “And no. I’m not looking to join up. I’m actually here to see Jack.”

“You don’t have an appointment.” His rough voice rolls across the room and hits my back like a thump of his fist. “I don’t even own an appointment book,” he adds, “which means you definitely don’t have one.”

The girl he hangs with giggles, like she thinks he’s funny.

“I know I don’t have an appointment.” I half turn, so I see him, but without showing Izzy my back. “But I heard you tend to finish up your day about now, so I was hoping to catch you. Maybe get a coffee.”

His bloody brow shoots high on his forehead. “I’m married, bruh. And I like chicks.”

The girl’s laughter rolls free now as she bends at the hips. “He likes this one chick a lot,” she cackles. “She’s always pregnant.”

“Mind your business!” Jack admonishes, but he looks my way and shrugs. “Even if I liked dudes, you wouldn’t be my type. Your shoulders are too broad.”

I firm my lips, knowing they’re in full swing of taking the mickey tonight. The girl was gunning for her uncles earlier, but now that I’m here, all three of them are teaming up and picking on me.

“I heard this was the place a man could go when he needs help.” I straighten my back and stare Jack straight in the eyes. Challenge him to refuse my request. “I’m not the type to ask often—if at all,” I amend after a beat. “But I was told there’s no family more inclined to help someone in need.” I lift a single shoulder in surrender. “Guess I heard wrong.”

Turning on my heels, I don’t have to take even a single step before Izzy’s hand drops to my arm and Jack’s “Wait” echoes across the gym.

Bleeding hearts, the lot of them.

“I’ve got time,” he sighs. A long groan rolls across the mats as he pushes up off the canvas and to his feet.

He carries his bottle of water and catches a towel the girl tosses at his face. Then pulling her in for a side hug, he presses a sweaty, bloody kiss to her temple before kicking Bobby’s thigh on his way out.

“I’m Jack. But you already knew that.”

He wanders closer and stops six feet away, his chest and shoulders teeming with sweat, and his bottom lip smudged with blood. “You met Iz,” he nods toward the woman at my back. Then he glances toward the cage. “Bobby’s my brother-in-law. And Bean is my niece. Anytime you need help, you can come into this gym and find anyone—absolutely anyone,” he claps my shoulder, part welcome, and part start moving, asshole. “Doesn’t matter who you speak to once you’re in here. They’ll help.”

Still, he steers me into the hall and mops his face with the off-white towel. “The fact you’re asking for me tells me you wanna bond over the dead girlfriend thing.”

I look to my left and frown. “What do you know of my life?”

We enter the room housing a boxing ring and hanging bags. Nobody else is around except for the two dudes in the ring.

“Your girl died in this town, bro. She worked with people we consider our friends—and now you’re working with those same people. Not just those on your crew, but Luc and Mitch too. The EMTs who attend every single job you’re called out on. So I know quite a bit about your life.”

He drops his towel and water and starts toward a massive tub of boxing gloves. “But I figure, if the whole world had to know my business, then it’s fair everyone gets to know yours.”

Selecting a couple of gloves and checking to make sure they’re a set, he tosses them my way so I catch them against my chest.

“You’re the town’s newest charity case of ‘awww, his girlfriend died a hero, now we’re all gonna treat him with kiddie gloves and feel bad if we sneeze too loud near him.’” He grabs a second set of gloves and pulls them on. “Not me, bro. I’ve lived this. I spiraled like a motherfucker, and those kiddie gloves didn’t help a damn.” Clapping his padded hands together, he steps forward and squares up. “So spar with me. We can talk while we bleed.”

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