Iris Boys Box Set

by Lucy Smoke

  He shrugged. "It's a lot like work. You take orders from your tables, don't you?"

  "That's different. I can always refuse service." I held that right and I knew Alex would back me up because I wouldn't just do it without reason.

  "It's the same thing with us. You can always say no, and we'll respect that. I've told Knix no many times."

  "You have?" That didn't sound all that bad.

  "Orders aren't really orders, they are more like requests, but we call them orders. And yes, I have. There are some things I can't do, some things I'm uncomfortable doing – not many, albeit – but still..."

  "So, I can say no? Just like that?" Cleo purred into my fingers.

  Marv pursed his lips, silence lingering as I supposed he thought about his response. "You can always say no," he started. "But we – Iris and especially our teams – ask that you consider each and every option before you refuse something. If you say no without truly contemplating your abilities to do a task, or what it could do or who it could help, then the likelihood of people coming back to you for help or for requests goes down. Our whole organization runs on people who have agreed to help others."

  "But you're not all 'yes' men?" It was less of a question and more of a statement, yet I heard my tone go up at the end as if I wanted to make sure I understood what he was saying.

  "No, we're not all 'yes' men." He glanced over with that smirk of his back in place. "Or 'yes' women."

  I stroked Cleo's fur and concentrated on where we were heading for the rest of the drive. Marv drove down I-77 for another fifteen miles before pulling off onto a different road than Bellamy had taken before. Weaving in and out of morning traffic, he avoided potholes and rough patches along the pavement. Cleo whined when my hand stilled and I jumped. Big, kitten eyes stared up at me, upset and hungry for attention. I kissed one little kitty ear – the undamaged one – and continued to scratch down her back.

  The song on the radio changed, the melody slowing considerably as one of Yiruma's more recognizable pieces, River Flows in You, began to play. The song was so familiar and sweet that I smiled, tilting my head to the rhythm.

  "You know this song?" Marv's tone suggested surprise.

  "Sure," I replied. "It's one of my favorites."

  "What other kind of artists do you like?"

  "Classical or otherwise?" I asked.

  He turned down a narrow street. Trees arched over the road, Spanish moss darkening the way.

  "Either, I suppose."

  "Well, I really like Julian Lloyd Webber for classical music. His take on The Moon with the English Chamber Orchestra was beautiful. I obviously like Yiruma. I think he's a very talented pianist."

  "What got you into classical music?" I blushed, not wanting to say. "What?" he demanded. I tried to think of an excuse while I covered one cheek with my free hand, keeping the other on Cleo. "You're red, is it really that bad?"

  I groaned. No hiding it, I guessed. "Watching cartoons growing up, Bugs Bunny had a few episodes where there was classical music playing in the background and it made the show funnier and I realized that classical music wasn't as boring as everyone thought it was. It had a lot of emotion, not just sad or lovey dovey–"

  "Lovey dovey?" He laughed.

  "Hush," I commanded. "You asked." Cleo butted my hand again when it stilled. "Anyway," I drew out the word. "Hearing it on those old cartoons, I decided to look up more and learn a little bit about the artists and their instruments, I guess."

  "You like Webber, so you must like cellists, huh?"

  I shrugged. "Sure."

  "What else do you listen to?"

  "Pop, soft rock, classic rock." I listed them off. "Breaking Benjamin is one of my favorite bands." He nodded and we fell back in comfortable silence.

  Chapter 11

  The BMW left the smooth concrete of the road and bumped along the gravel driveway of a barn style building with faded, white trim along the roof and a wraparound porch. Twin shadows moved across the roof and the sound of high-powered drills and nail-guns shattered the serene quiet of the surrounding area. Trees lined three sides of the property while an extended lawn reached out towards the road. The last house we had driven past was half the size of the monstrosity before us and a good two or three miles back up the road. I wondered who lived here.

  “I thought we were going to drop Cleo off with Texas,” I said.

  “I will,” Marv replied. “Don’t worry.”

  “Then why are we here?” I asked. Marv shook his head and started walking.

  Shouts could be heard from the backside of the house and I trailed behind Marv as he strode toward the porch. He waved to a few guys who passed by, their eyes lighting up with recognition and camaraderie. A few paused when they spotted me, their eyes curious and zeroing in on Cleo as she surveyed them from my arms.

  "Aww." One man slowly approached and cooed at her. A friend followed close behind them, their eyes big and wondrous as Cleo preened under their attention. Marv shook his head at them, took me by the arm, and steered me through the front door. I had never seen such big men coo over a small kitten.

  The more men we passed, the more attention Cleo got. Some got all big-eyed, staring with wonder and adoration while others put whatever tool they were wielding down and reached out to pet her on the head or scratch behind an ear. Cleo merely yawned and meowed every so often, allowing them to worship her. Marv finally released me when he realized I would still follow him without coercion. I wasn't about to be left alone with these strangers if I could follow him.

  I ducked my head after another bulky man stopped to pet Cleo. When he patted me on the head as well before heading back to his work, I barely resisted the urge to reach for the back of Marv's shirt. We managed to make it past most of the workers without too many stops and I noted they all seemed relatively fit, even the older men. Assuming it was because of the type of work they were doing, I focused on where Marv was heading and followed.

  The living room was an open space with an elaborate chandelier. The place smelled like pine and I breathed deeply, inhaling the scent. To the left was an equally spacious kitchen with a rectangular island. The counter tops had yet to be installed, but it was still beautiful. To the right were wooden stairs leading up into a balcony hallway that overlooked the living room and kitchen. Four doors lined the downstairs wall, and the second to last opened before Knix stepped out.

  "Finally." The sound of his boots on the hardwood floor ricocheted in the open space.

  Marv raised his brow. "Was there a time limit? I came over as soon as I got her in the car." He gestured to me and Knix's eyes followed.

  "Hey, Little Bit." Strong, masculine lips curved up in greeting. Gooey liquid squished in my stomach, warming me. Butterflies fluttered.

  "Hey." I halfheartedly raised my hand in reply. Knix smiled again, then turned his attention back to Marv.

  "It's just about lunchtime for the guys. They'll take off for an hour or so, and we can get her into some training while they're gone."

  Marv put a hand to his unshaved chin and scratched. "Isn't it a bit early for lunch?"

  "They call it second breakfast, I call it first lunch," Knix's low-toned chuckle washed over my skin, making me shiver, and I leaned into Marv's side involuntarily. Marv glanced down at me before leaning back, pushing his lightly muscled arm back into me, causing yet another bout of shivers. Knix continued, "They're working so fast, I let 'em have more than a little leeway when it comes to their breaks."

  "You're a good boss." Marv waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway, here she is. I've gotta go pick up some stuff."

  "Just get everything ready for tomorrow, that's all I ask," Knix said.

  "Bellamy can pick her up after the guys get back," Marv replied. "Should I run out and grab you something?"

  "Nah." A wide palm slid between the golden strands of Knix's hair as he rubbed at his scalp. "I've got a few snacks packed away in the cupboards for emergencies. The guys usually don't find them in ther
e since they're already finished with them." That same wide palm dropped and reached for me, pulling me away from Marv and under his very large shadow. "I'll take care of her."

  Marv caught my eyes. "Will she bite me?" he asked, gesturing to Cleo. I looked down at the bundle in my arms, purring away, and shook my head. He sighed. "If you’ll give her to me, I'll drop her off with Texas. We were gonna take her there anyway."

  "You adopted a cat?" Knix's eyes widened with surprise. "Come on, seriously?"

  My head jerked back and I glared up at him. "You don't like cats?" I demanded.

  He chuckled, a thick finger chucking me under my tilted chin. "I like cats just fine, Little Bit. I'm just teasing." I relaxed, passing Cleo over to Marv. She whined when our arms brushed and she was unseated from her comfy place, but curled up nicely enough when Marv soothed her, a palm to her back, rubbing lightly as he strode away.

  "This way now." Knix led me out into the backyard, which was even more enormous compared to the front. Glancing around, I noted several different places he could fit another house and another and another – the entire back yard could be filled with half a neighborhood. "What I'm gonna teach you today are some basic self-defense steps – Harlow, are you listening?"

  I jerked back to face him. With everyone gone, I didn't exactly know how to act around him. He was in charge. He commanded attention just with his size, though usually his demeanor didn't make him seem intimidating. This wasn't the friendly, easy going Knix I had come to know. The agreeable man with too much muscle mass was gone. In his place was a serious, commanding Knix that finally made me understand some of the guys' reactions. Tattling to Knix became a threat that I suddenly understood.

  "This is important, Harlow."

  "Why?" The moment I asked, I wanted to reach out, wrap my hand around the word, and shove it back inside my mouth.

  "Because dangerous situations happen, whether we want them to or not. Unfortunately, it's simply a fact of statistics that as a woman, you'll likely end up in those dangerous situations more often than any of us would like you to. We want you to be prepared."

  "What about my communications training?"

  "This will help you in that area too. We'll get into that later." His palm came back down over my head, rubbing lightly. "Right now, it's work time – stand here." He gestured for me to take up position directly to his front. I was glad I had left my bag in Marv's car. At least I didn't have to worry about where to put it.

  "Here?" I stood my ground, shaking as I planted my feet, feeling like an idiot.

  He nodded. "Alright," he began. "In a dangerous situation, what is your first instinct?"

  "Run?" I asked.

  "Very good," he replied. "And I want you to do that if you can. If you have a choice between fight or flight, always choose flight but in the instance that you have to fight, I want to prepare you the best I can. I know that you don't know how to punch."

  I flushed, my eyes sliding to the ground. Firm fingers tilted my head back up.

  "No, it's nothing to be ashamed of," he said. "You just haven't been taught properly. That's what I'm going to do today."

  "You're going to teach me how to punch someone?" That didn't sound so bad. I could get behind that.

  "Not just how, but where." He dropped his hand away. "Look at my body." I did as he asked, glancing over the t-shirt he wore, the way it outlined the dips and hollows of his abdomen, the way his jeans clung to his powerful thighs. I gulped. "Where would you hit me first?" Knix asked.

  "Uh..." My eyes remained fixated on the bulging muscles of his body. He was immense, like a stone statue brought to life. "Your um...pelvis?" I peered up at his face, catching the way his eyes glinted in approval.

  "Yes, you're gonna want to go straight for the groin. Another good place to hit is my throat." He grabbed my hand and raised it so that my fingers grazed his neck, over the strong lines. I gulped. "–the throat controls a person's breathing. If you hit the groin or the throat, then your attacker is incapacitated – even if only momentarily, it will give you the opportunity you need to get away."

  "I thought that I was supposed to fight." I ran a hand over the side of my face, pulling my hair back and tucking it behind one ear.

  "In this exercise, I don't want you to fight me if you see a way out." As I thought about it, looking up at Knix, I knew he wouldn't run if he didn't have to.

  "Why can't I just fight the attacker off?" I asked.

  "No," he barked. I blinked at his intensity. "The point is to get away. Not to fight. I don't want you fighting at all if I can help it."

  "Then what's the point of this exercise?" I huffed in frustration.

  "There may be circumstances in which you cannot avoid a fight. I don't want to give you the skills to start a fight, only to end one." Knix took a deep breath and as he released, the tension ebbed out of his muscles. "There may be occurrences where it happens." He took a deep, calming breath. "Now, what I'm going to have you do is ball up your fist for me." I stared at him for a moment, waiting; for what, I didn't know. When he didn't do or say anything more, I followed his instructions and balled up my fist and presented it to him.

  "That's right," he continued. "Now when you're making a fist, don't put your thumb inside. I'm sure you learned this the other day, but when you end up throwing the punch, the fingers on the outside will automatically be pushed inward with the force. If you hit hard enough, you could break your own thumb."

  That explained the soreness of my thumb following the fight at school. I nodded my way through his next instructions as he had me do a few punches into the air with both hands balled into fists. Knix maneuvered himself behind me, hands on my hips and I wavered as the heat of his palms reached me through my clothes.

  I wouldn't admit it to him or anyone else, but his intensity was damn near impossible to resist. He was this giant god, an educator, friend, and protector. It was attractive. I shook my head at the outrageous thoughts spilling through my mind and focused on the task at hand as he rounded back to my front.

  "Alright, now hit me."

  I paused. "What?" He couldn't be serious.

  "Did you think I was just going to have you punch air all day?" He raised his eyebrow at me. "You need to move your body like I showed you. Follow through with your punch. It's difficult to understand just how important it is to master this unless you have practice hitting someone."

  "Can't I just hit a punching bag or something?" The idea of hitting him was preposterous. I might actually be able to do some damage to an inanimate object, but Knix? No way. The very idea was laughable.

  "No." He huffed. "Now, hit me." My fist waved, unsure and I reached out, landing a light punch to his chest. He groaned, and I jerked back. Had I hurt him? I stared down at my fist. No, I couldn't have. Knix was monumental and I had thrown the wimpiest punch in the history of wimpy punches.

  "What," he stared at me, "was that?"

  Hesitation made my voice tremble. "Um...a punch?"

  "Do it again," he commanded. "But this time, put some force into your punch instead of just touching me."

  I was shocked. Knix had never talked to me – or to anyone else that I knew of – like that before. I frowned in irritation. I didn’t like the idea of hitting someone, and I would have rather been doing, or learning, something else. There was a point to this, though, I knew. I pulled back, aiming for just the right place. His throat was too high for me to reach and no matter how angry I was at him, I couldn't stand to think of going after his balls. Tightening up my fist, thumb just under my knuckles like he taught me, I swung. I turned with the movement until my punch smacked him right in the stomach, I followed through all the way.

  He chuffed, the sound offensive, but bent slightly, a hand raising to rub the area. Mirth twinkled in those oceanic eyes of his. "Not bad, Little Bit. That's the way you do it." His eyes sparkled as though he knew just what his tone had done. Maybe I needed to be mad to hit someone. For the rest of the hour, Knix went over several di
fferent defensive positions. He stressed that the goal of each situation was to get away, not stay and fight. His instructions were only to help me escape not start or cause fights. Even as he stressed that, I couldn't imagine myself doing so. His focus allowed me to settle into a similar mindset, soaking in every lesson he taught me. After every successful attempt at mastering a new position, a new defense skill, he would praise me. I found myself not wanting to let him down, not wanting to disappoint him.

  When construction guys began to trickle back in from their lunch break, they picked their work back up and the noise level rose. Sweating under the intense southern heat, Knix led me back into the house. A dark shadow emerged from one of the upstairs rooms and I started in surprise.

  "Bell," Knix said. "I thought you were–" He cut himself off, glancing at me. Whatever it was he had been about to say, I was apparently not privy to it. "I thought you weren't going to be here 'til later," he corrected. I picked at the hem of my shirt in irritation. It wasn't like I would scream their secrets to the world. If I had to trust them, they could trust me too, couldn't they?

  Bellamy's dark hair was loose around his face, hanging to his shoulders. "I got done early. Thought I might come and check out the place." He stopped in front of us. "Maybe pick up Harlow while I was here." He grinned at me. "Hey there."

  I shifted from one foot to the other. "Hey," I replied. His bronze skin was a stark contrast to the loose fitting white t-shirt and whitewashed jeans he wore. Several braided bracelets lined one wrist opposite his tattoo.

  "Yeah, we just finished up. You can take her. Did Marv tell you about her exams? Did you get in contact with Wiggins?"

  "Yeah, I did." Bellamy ran one palm through his hair, pulling it back away from his face. "She can take her history exam online. I already got the teacher to send it to me. She can do it at the apartment and she can work on her paper today." His eyes flashed as he glanced at me.

  "Good, take her and get that done." Knix pushed me towards Bellamy, his hand warm in the center of my back. "I'll see you later, Little Bit. Be good."