I Am Lioness (The Bloodshed Series Book 1)

by Dee Garcia

  That sounds promising.

  Ok… When?

  Now I guess?

  Your room or mine?

  I don't think that's a good idea, Knox. Maybe someplace neutral?

  Relax. The last thing on my mind right now

  is a repeat of last night.

  Fine. Yours. I don't want to risk Jason showing up again.

  I couldn’t argue with that. The last thing we needed was another interruption courtesy of the smug bastard, especially when the circumstances were far more important this time around.

  I sent her the room number and tossed the phone aside, suddenly feeling more anxious than I was just moments ago. Unable to sit still, I rose to my feet and began pacing the length of the room as I waited for Hazel to show up.

  My mind was spinning a million miles per hour, jumping to all sorts of conclusions as to what she wanted to talk about. Whether it was five minutes or twenty, it felt like an eternity had passed before finally I heard three light raps at the door.

  I sucked in a deep breath, bracing myself for the shit storm that was about it unfold and yanked it open. The mere sight of her jerked my heart out of control.

  She was as beautiful as ever, even wearing the same distressed expression from earlier this morning. Those chocolate brown orbs peeked up at me shyly and the corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile as she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Hey.” She said, her voice hushed.

  “Hey.”

  I peered down the hallway to confirm Jason hadn’t followed and then stepped aside to let her in. It took everything in me not to snatch her up in my arms when she brushed past me, press her up against the wall and kiss the hell out of her. But I’d told her no repeats and I was intent on upholding my end of the deal, even if subduing the urge was easier said than done.

  “So… You said you wanted to see me. What's up?” She asked nonchalantly, padding further into the room.

  Seriously?

  I trailed behind her in disbelief and dropped down onto the small white couch, leaning forward onto my knees.

  “Why don't you start with what we need to discuss. If my reason is still valid after the fact, then I'll share.”

  “Knox…” She started to say, pivoting to face me, but I lifted a hand before she could continue.

  “Just cut to the chase, Hazel. If you're gonna tell me to fuck off then do it already. But I want to know why.”

  She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Enlighten me then.”

  The air was thick with tension as the silence stretched between us. I leaned back into the couch, making myself comfortable while I waited for her to answer. She could stand there all day if she wanted to. I’d wait her out forever.

  After a beat, she dropped her arms to her sides and met my stare head-on.

  “There’s no easy way to say it but I just don’t see this going very far. I think we need to cool it and leave it alone.”

  My brow quirked. “And what brought you to that conclusion?”

  She shrugged, trudging forward to the small love-seat adjacent to where I sat, falling to the cushion in a heap. “It’s just bad timing, Knox. I’m not at a place in my life where I can simply involve myself with someone. It’s too complicated.”

  “What about it is so complicated?”

  “My career. As you know, it’s very demanding. I’m home for only six months out of the year. It would be selfish of me to drag someone into a relationship where constant travel kept us apart for an extended period of time.”

  I looked away, feeling anger bubble to the surface and said, “It’s not selfish if the other person is willing to make it work.”

  Hazel sighed again, the sound profoundly frustrated this time around. “You don’t get it…”

  I pushed to my feet, needing the security of the floor beneath me to keep me grounded. My arms flew up in the air as I turned to face her. “You’re right, I don’t. I don’t get any of this”—I motioned between her and I—“Yet here I am, trying to make sense of it all while you’re ready to toss me out of your life as quickly as I came in.”

  “Sometimes it’s best to leave those things be. If we were meant to understand them, we would.” She said quietly, keeping her eyes fixated on her lap.

  “Bullshit,” I spat. “You and I both know damn well not even you believe that. Are you really going to sit there and tell me you don’t feel this?”

  Again, I motioned between her and I.

  “I-I…”

  “You what? Spit it out.”

  Hazel all but jumped out of the chair, clearly feeling threatened by my tone and glared at me much in the same way I’d seen her glare at Jason.

  It wasn’t intentional on my part. Anger often knew how to claw it’s way through my restraint and get the best of me at the worst times. Now was obviously one of those times. We stared each other down for God knows how long until she slumped down into the love-seat and crossed her arms.

  “I do, okay? I feel every last bit of it and it’s fucking terrifying.”

  “So that’s your reason to say fuck it and push me away? Because you’re scared? You don’t think I’m scared, Hazel?” I questioned, taking a few steps toward her. “I’ve never felt anything like this in my life. But I’m addicted to it. It’s consumed me in ways I didn't know were possible and all I know is that I want more of it, more of you.”

  “I know but…” Her hands threaded through her hair as she shook her head. “It’s too fast, Knox. We’ve known each other for what two, three weeks? And look how deep we’re in already. Nothing about this is healthy. Not only that but don’t you understand I’ll be gone for months, as in starting tomorrow? What are you going to do, sit around and wait for me to come home in November? How is that fair to you?”

  “Because you’re what I want.”

  She eyed me warily. “See? This is what I’m talking about. How can you be so sure of that? You barely know me.”

  “I want to though. All you have to do is give me a chance to do so.”

  “Easier said than done.” She scoffed.

  “How so?”

  “It’s not something I care to discuss.”

  “I’m not going to force you to share with me anything you don’t feel like sharing. I just want you to stop fighting this. You were fine with us last night”—Hazel’s cheeks flamed at the reminder—“Aren’t you the least the bit curious as to where this could lead us if it’s already this good?”

  I could see the wheels spinning furiously in her head and for a split-second I thought I had her convinced but then she went on to say, “It's too complicated right now. Maybe when I come home and if you're still interested, we can attempt to work toward something. But right now….”

  All I needed to hear was maybe and I was moving. There may have very well been a reason as to why she was suddenly second guessing it all but it obviously wasn’t enough of a reason for her to turn away from me completely, and I planned to take full advantage of that. If our current situation was too fast then I’d slow the fuck down and come at this from a whole new angle. For her.

  Closing in the distance between us, I straddled her legs and dropped my hands onto the armrests of the chair she sat on. I lowered my head to level with hers and waited for her eyes to lock with mine.

  “Listen to me very carefully because I don’t want you misunderstanding a single word of what I’m about to say you. I understand your reservations. They’re rational, logical, and deep down, I know you're right. And because of that, I’m willing to keep things light, for now. No labels, no pretenses, just us getting to know each other. By no means, however, does that cancel out the fact that I want you. Because I do, Hazel, I want you so fiercely, I feel like I'm going fucking insane.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip and turned her head away but I brought two fingers under her chin and turned her back to me. Then I probably did something I should not have d
one. I leaned in and pressed my lips softly against hers. No tongue, no rabid hunger, just one tender kiss. When I pulled away, I said, “Compromise with me, please.”

  She groaned and threw her head back on the couch. “You suck.”

  I chuckled, feeling relieved that the wall she’d formed overnight was slowly crumbling right before my eyes. “And why is that?”

  “Because you make it so hard to resist you.”

  “As I told you last night, don’t resist me then.” I said against her neck, peppering a trail of kisses up to her ear.

  She mewled beneath me and clasped her fingers around my tee, clenching her eyes tightly. I was going against everything I said I wouldn’t do but I couldn’t control myself. Her reaction was spurring me on and if the physical aspect of our relationship was swaying her towards agreeing with me then I'd kiss her until she couldn't refuse me.

  “So, will you compromise with me?” I asked, kissing my way along her jaw.

  Her eyes were still shut and I don’t think she realized she was pulling me toward her. “I-I c-can’t think when you’re doing that.”

  “There’s nothing to think about, sweets. Just say yes.”

  “God, I hate you.” Her voice was suddenly breathy and a little strangled.

  “Liar.”

  “You’re frying my brain and all you’ve done is kiss me.”

  “All part of my evil plan.” I admitted, chuckling. “Now stop avoiding the inevitable and answer me.”

  “Yes…” She whispered, arching into me.

  “What was that?”

  “Yes…”

  “Say it louder for me.” I pressed, feeling elated.

  “Yes!”

  Much fucking better. It's on now.

  Phoenix was a trip to the fiery depths of hell in July. The sweltering desert heat slapped me in the face and clung to my skin the very second we stepped foot outside the cool interior of Sky Harbor International. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my chest constricting tightly with each lungful of dry, scalding air.

  What started off as a light sheen of sweat quickly transformed into white-hot beads that dripped down my face, my neck, my back, everywhere. I was literally melting. An ice cold shower had never sounded so appealing. Thankfully, the valet service brought the SUV around in a speedy fashion, so we weren’t subjected to the infernal temperature for long.

  The rest of the afternoon, along with the evening, was pretty low-key and uneventful. Drained from the tidal wave of emotions I’d trudged through my last two days in Vegas and a full day of travel, I was grateful for some much needed peace and quiet. I took a hot bath, spent a good hour on the phone with Knox, and passed out before midnight.

  The following morning, however, was anything but peaceful or quiet. Bernie was banging down my door at six a.m. on the dot, eager to kick off the new day with an early morning session. When he finally came to the conclusion that I was not getting up to answer the door, he called my cell. And when I let all five of his calls ring straight through to voicemail, I received a personal wake up call from the front desk courtesy of Mr. Gutierrez himself. If I didn’t love the man so much I would’ve considered murdering him upon wrenching open the door. Because life in prison was no biggie, right?

  In the end, Bernie’s intentions had proven to be in the right place. The gym was a desolate ghost town of a few early birds and employees—likely due to the ungodly hour in which we’d arrived—and I as I stepped further into the relatively silent space of endless machines and sterile equipment, I was immediately thankful for the opportunity to focus on the task at hand, free of large crowds or casual interruptions.

  Unfortunately for me though, my brain clearly did not get the memo on both cooperation and concentration, and through every motion of my workout, I was a distracted hot mess of sorts. Thoughts of Knox popped unbidden in my mind, replaying each moment we’d spent together thus far in a constant loop.

  Bernie was talking but the words failed to register as I thought about how I almost let Knox go. It was foolish of me to think I could escape him in the first place but keeping my distance was how I’d grown accustomed to living my life. It was reflex to shut someone out when they tried to get too close, not that anyone ever did, really. My perpetual resting bitch face and loner tendencies were enough to keep people away.

  Everyone minus Knox, that is.

  I was still wary that something could go terribly wrong at any moment until I thought about how I’d had Bernie in my life for nearly four years, Jason for three, and Manny for two without incident. Obviously I’d done something right that allowed me their presence in my life.

  Perhaps I'd paid my dues? I hoped like hell that was the case, otherwise, agreeing to this temporary compromise with Knox could have been a big mistake, and I wasn't sure I could handle what that meant.

  Bernie snapped me out of yet another daze when he suggested we hop into the ring for a few rounds before wrapping up the day. I found it rather strange that he wanted to cut our session short, but quickly wrote it off as the constant travel finally taking a toll on him.

  The heat alone was debilitating, tack on the added weight of our lifestyle and you had quite the feasible answer. Still, he seemed rather off since Vegas and I couldn't help but wonder what had him so far away.

  “Damn it, Hazel! Focus!” He barked in frustration, somewhere during our fourth round. “What the hell is going on with you? Your workout”—he motioned to the sea of machines behind me—“if you could even call it that, was utter crap and now you’re in here swinging like a sloppy rookie.”

  I rolled my eyes and jabbed out hard with my right, making contact with one of the padded mitts attached to his hands. “You do realize you dragged me out here at the ass crack of dawn, right?” I snapped, throwing out two more punches and then a swift kick of my leg. “I think I'm allowed a spec of moodiness, Pops.”

  He shook his head. “Try again. I'm not buying that garbage.”

  “There's nothing to buy. I'm tired. Cut me some slack, old man.” The last bit came out with a grunt as I brought my knee up with force.

  Bernie deflected and bounced me off with ease, shoving me back about a foot.

  “Alright, I'll cut you some slack.” He said, ripping one of the mitts off his hand with his teeth and throwing it to worn mat, then promptly ripping off it’s partner. “Care to explain what's going on with Mr. Carr?”

  Oh shit.

  My arms fell to my sides and from the look he was giving me, I knew better than to lie.

  “Pops, I was…”

  He pointed a finger in warning, stopping me mid-sentence. “Don't you dare say you were planning to tell me because you’ve had many an opportunity to do so and you haven't. Not only that but you lied about it on Sunday, to my face. So now I want the truth.”

  The bitterness in his tone took me by surprise, though given the circumstances it probably shouldn't have.

  I sighed, stepping closer to where he stood. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn't mention anything because truthfully I didn’t know how. This thing with him and I… It's complicated.”

  Bernie crossed his arms. “Complicated or not, did you think I wouldn’t support you?”

  “No, I just… I don't know, Pops. Knox totally blindsided me. I wasn't expecting anything to come of it.”

  “Did something come of it?” He questioned, raising a brow.

  “I mean, I guess so.” I shrugged. “It's nothing serious. We’re getting to know each other with the intention of moving forward at some point once the season is over.”

  “I see…” His voice was quiet, too quiet.

  I could see the hurt in his eyes, hurt that I’d put there because I hid something from him. Something that was clearly more important than I'd let myself believe.

  He stepped around me and bent down to collect the mitts.

  “Don't be mad, Bern, please.” I pleaded, following him to the bench. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't think there was anything to tell pr
ior to him showing up in Vegas.”

  Bernie shook his head. “I’m not mad, Hazel. I’m just disappointed that I had to find out what was going on behind my back when I overheard you and Jason bickering.”

  I froze.

  Could it get any worse?

  “You heard that?” I was mortified.

  “How could I not”—he turned to face me—“The door slammed so hard it shook the walls. I was afraid something had happened, so creeped out into the hallway and could hear the two of you going at it before I even got to your door.”

  Yep, that's worse.

  “I’m sorry…” I said again, not knowing what else to say.

  Bernie wrapped me up in his arms, hugging me tightly.

  “It’s okay, I just worry. It’s the father in me.”

  “And I love you for that.” I squeezed him back, meaning every word.

  It was silent for a beat and then he asked, “Is he good to you, kid? Does he make you happy?”

  I nodded against his chest. “So far? Yes.”

  “He has my vote then. However,” he said with a bite in his tone. “If he hurts you, he won’t be much of man when I’m done with him.”

  I let out a sigh of relief, chuckling silently. “I’ll let him know you said so, Pops.”

  The next week and a half consisted of the usual routine—wake up, train, refuel, repeat. The only difference was the addition of chatting on the phone with Knox almost every night before going to bed.

  It was nice to unwind after a long day and have someone to talk to that wasn’t my usual trio. Though, really, it was more of a duo now because Jason and I hadn’t spoken much since the Vegas incident. He apologized shortly after arriving in Phoenix but the tension between us was still utterly palpable and it didn’t help that, for the most part, he kept to himself which made traveling anywhere awkward.

  Especially since I always got stuck riding with him in the backseat. Bernie said he was probably embarrassed hence the new loner attitude, but I wasn’t buying that, not a word of it. Something was definitely up and either I was going to figure it out, or in due time, it would all come out. The truth always did.