Page 29 of Fighting the Darkness

She just laughs again. “Maybe not, but I won’t be much help getting you upstairs, and if I didn’t ask him, he’d be offended.”

I know she’s right, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. I hate to put him out, but I really don’t even know if I could crawl up the stairs on my own right now. I sigh, taking shuffling steps toward the stairs.

“I hear someone needs a lift?” Cook’s deep voice brings a smile to my face.

I turn my head to grin at him but end up wincing as pain shoots down my neck. How the hell can every muscle in my body hurt? Even the muscles in my feet are yelling at me. This is insane.

“Hey, Cook. Thanks for the assistance. Working out is no joke.”

Cook grunts, crossing his thick arms over his barrel chest. “You’re too skinny to be working out.”

Cook’s been working for us for as long as I can remember. Mom said he started working for them after she and my dad got married, which was like twenty-five years ago. He grew up with my mom, having been best friends with my uncle so he’s slightly older. He’d been a police officer with my uncle, but when he was killed in the line of duty, Cook said he couldn’t do it without his brother. He went to culinary school, and now he’s been working for my family ever since.

He’s not the typical chef at six foot seven with his flaming red hair. It’s obvious he works out, given the muscles that ripple beneath his clothes. Cook, obviously, isn’t his first name, but it’s his last name. He told us that when Freyr and I were like ten years old, and we laughed so hard. We thought we called him Cook because it’s what he did. But no, it’s his last name. As a teenager, I begged him to tell me his first name, but he refused.

“So my trainer said.” I shrug as my mom passes us, pressing a kiss to my cheek before hurrying up the stairs. “Today wasn’t really a workout so much as seeing where I was at.”

“Hmph.” Cook wrinkles his nose. “What gym is it? I need to check them out and make sure they’re not going to take advantage of you.”

Glancing up the stairs, I grimace. “I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell Mom.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Well, in that case, I have to know.”

I raise my eyebrows. I’m not telling him until he promises not to tell her. She might be happy that I’m getting out of the house, but she’d be pissed if she found out that I was training to fight.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I promise I won’t tell your mom—unless it puts you in danger.”

I shrug, assuming that’s probably the best I’m going to get from him. “No Holds Barred.”

His eyebrows shoot up as he jerks his head toward the staircase. Once he’s sure Mom isn’t standing there, he turns back to me. “You’re training to fight?”

“To at least learn, but yeah, that’s the eventual goal.”

“Liv will kill you if she finds out.”

I snort. “I’m aware. Why do you think I don’t want you to tell her?”

Cook huffs, rolling his eyes. “I won’t for two reasons. The first being that I know Griffin personally, and he’s a good guy. If he’s agreed to let you train there, he’ll take care of you.”

“And the second reason?”

His face softens. “Because I know you need this. I assume this is because Freyr was a fighter, or something similar?”

I nod slowly.

“As I thought. I’ll keep your secret for you, but I will be checking in with Griffin regularly.” He glances at the stairs once more. “He’s giving you a nutritional plan?”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to get it tomorrow.”

“I’ll give him a call tonight. I’ll work it out with him.” He pauses. “It’s good to see you up and moving again.”

The smile I give him is small and tinged with sadness. “It’s good to be up and moving.”

“Okay, how are we doing this? Piggyback or am I carrying you like a baby?”

I wrinkle my nose at that. “To save some face, I wish I could say piggyback, but I don’t think I can hold on.”

Cook grins, leaning over and sweeping me into his arms. “Haven’t carried you like this since you were small. I think you might’ve weighed more then.”

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