Chapter 6: Jared

"Jay, today is not the day," Rex shouts as he climbs out of the ring. He’s sweaty from training some new guy who waves at me like he knows me. For Rex’s sake, I wave back.

"I need to blow off some steam." I remove my sweater and throw it alongside the ring.

"I’m training someone." Rex juts his chin over his shoulder. The new guy is watching us.

"Does he bring in as much money as I do?" I ask as I pick up the tape for my hands.

Rex shakes his head. "Don’t be a dick."

"I don’t mind," the new guy calls. "Jay, you go ahead."

I smile at Rex. "Problem solved." I hand Rex the tape, but he doesn’t take it.

"Stay in the ring, Lenny," Rex fires without looking away from me.

Lenny is halfway through the ropes but does as Rex says.

"Just let me hit the bag at least." Rex has rules—rules that I never break. Only one person in his gym at a time during training. He doesn’t want any distractions. That’s what makes him the best trainer.

Rex shakes his head again. "Hold out your hands."

I do, and Rex takes the tape from me. "You can work with Lenny."

I tut. "No. That’s bollocks."

Rex raises a brow. "That or leave."

I glance at Lenny, who’s looking very f*cking happy with himself. "Fine."

Rex tapes my hands and slips on my boxing gloves. He hands me a helmet, but I climb into the ring without it. I don’t think much is going to happen with Lenny.

Rex jumps up along the side.

"Lenny, I want to see you defend yourself. Don’t strike back. All you do is protect your body." Lenny starts bouncing at Rex’s words and nods. He smashes his hands together.

I look at Rex. A bag would be more beneficial than fighting Lenny, who won’t be able to stand up too much. I bounce, too, warming myself up. Everything fades away. This is why boxing is a lifeline for me; it allows me to peel every emotion back. And today, after seeing Layla, I need this release more than ever.

I dance closer to Lenny. His hands protect his head. I keep my movements slow to test him, and then I strike at his ribs. I don’t put much force behind the punch. He bends, lowers his hand, and protects himself.

"That a boy, Lenny," Rex cheers him on. "Keep focused."

"No cheering for me?" I ask as I fire a jab at Lenny’s head. He protects himself again and dances away.

"Your ego is too big, Jay," Rex teases. I grin and fire off a few quick but light-handed jabs at Lenny, who blocks each one like a pro.

"You’re good," I tell him.

He stops moving and smiles. "Jesus, Jay, thanks so…"

As he dribbles on, I hit him solid in the stomach. The force drives him back, and he hits the ground hard.

"Get up!" Rex screams, and I dance back as Lenny rolls to his knees, trying to catch his breath.

"Get up now, Lenny, or your training ends here for good."

Rex’s words get Lenny up off his knees. His face is red and raw as he fights for air while holding his stomach.

"Never lose focus. It can be a compliment, it can be an insult, but don’t let your guard down."

I dance around Lenny and take a few gentle swipes, which he blocks. I keep my hits low as he finally gets his breathing under control.

His hands aren’t as high; my hit seemed to have knocked his confidence.

"Keep your f*cking hands up," I bark at him.

He does.

"One little hit and you turn into a f*cking woman," I smirk at him. "Pitiful."

"Jay," Rex warns.

I reach out and tip the side of Lenny’s head. "Weak," I tease.

I don’t anticipate Lenny’s attack. One thing Rex warns us about is that no matter what, don’t bring anger into his motherf*cking ring. His words. So I don’t expect it when Lenny barrels into me with all his strength. His fist cracks into my side, and I’m falling, but not before he hits me with an uppercut. My lip splits open, and blood pours from my mouth as I hit the ground. I recover quickly and bounce back to my feet.

"Didn’t know Lenny the pussy had it in him," I tease as I wipe the blood from my chin.

"That’s enough. Both of you get out of the ring."

I’m not done. Not even f*cking close.

I step up to Lenny, ready to retaliate.

"Jay." The warning in Rex’s voice has me backing away from Lenny. I look at Rex for the first time since entering the ring.

Yeah, he’s pissed.

I shouldn’t have come here.

Words rise up, but I swallow them and get out of the ring.

"You lost your control." Rex speaks to Lenny. "Never lose control. That’s my number one rule, Lenny."

"I messed up," Lenny counteracts.

I remove my gloves and start peeling off the tape.

"Hit the showers," Rex orders Lenny.

"Good fight," I call after Lenny.

He glances over his shoulder at me and smirks. "Thanks, Jay."

Rex faces me. "You want to tell me who pissed in your cornflakes?"

Rex knows where I came from, but Layla isn’t someone I ever discussed with him. He pulls off the rest of the tape for me.

"Are we still good for tomorrow night?" I ask. That’s my official training day.

"Yeah, Jay. You can’t just arrive like this again."

I pick up my sweater and pull it on over my head. "I won’t."

Rex doesn’t move as I wipe more blood onto my sleeve.

"If you ever need me, just ring. Like a normal f*cking person." Rex grins as he holds out a fist. I bump it with mine.

"See you tomorrow." I leave the gym feeling more tightly wound. Once I’m in the car, I check my face in the rearview mirror. My lip still bleeds. My tongue flicks out and licks the blood. The cut stings, and I keep jabbing at it the whole drive home. The pain keeps me focused. It keeps my thoughts away from Layla for a short time.

Large white gates start to open. The ivy covers them, not allowing anyone to see into the property. My father values his privacy, especially after the scandal with my mother that still tortures him. I sink my teeth into my cut lip. Blood soaks my tongue, and I swallow the metallic liquid as I drive up to the house. Lights along the driveway have started to come on. It’s only four, but it’s already starting to get dark. By five, darkness will blanket most of the grounds. I pull into the six-car garage and turn off my car. I dab at my lip as I make my way into the empty house.

My father is never here, but a staff of servants moves around the house without making a noise. They seem to appear when we need them. The hallway is warm; two of the fires along the long wall have been lit. From the heat, I’d say it’s been a while. A mirror that hangs on the wall soars twelve-feet high, stopping at the ceiling. The black outline is decorated in twisted metal petals. I take a step closer and examine my split lip. My father won’t be happy with me showing up at the charity looking like I’ve been in a fight. He doesn’t approve of my boxing but turns a blind eye to it. For now, that is.

"Good afternoon, Master Jay."

I step away from the mirror.

"Your father asked me to give you this."

I turn and take the small envelope from William’s gloved hand. I open it in front of him, and he glances away, giving me my privacy.

Don’t be late. We expect your arrival at 8:15. I would appreciate Alexandra being with you.

I push the note back into the envelope. A phone call would have gotten his message here quicker. Why my father insists on leaving me f*cking notes is beyond me.

I nod at William, and he gives a bow of his head before I leave to go upstairs and get ready for the charity. I dial Alex’s number, and she answers on the second ring.

"I’ll be ready at seven thirty," she answers.

"How did you receive your message? By a carrier pigeon?" I ask as I climb the stairs before rounding the landing and making my way to the next set of stairs.

"A letter." I can hear the smile in Alex’s words. "Hand delivered today by one of your father’s servants." She pauses. "Don’t be late." Her words no longer hold a smile as she hangs up.

I make it to my room to find my suit hanging up. The fire has been lit too, and my curtains drawn.

Anger laces through me, and I swallow it down, but it’s like a yawn that’s already formed. It leaves a lump in my chest.

I take out my phone again and pull up my private PI’s number.

He, too, answers quickly.

"Jay, it’s been a long time."

"I found her," I say into the phone. I’m picturing his bushy gray eyebrows rising into his fading hairline.

"A full refund will be given," he grinds out. He’s a man who doesn’t like to lose.

"She arrived at my college. Keep the money and get me her address. She must live nearby."

Some part of me hopes he says no, asks me why I want her address, and tells me that’s a line he won’t cross.

"Give me twenty-four hours."

My heart trips at the idea of finding out where Layla is living, and with whom.

"I want it by eleven tonight," I say.

There’s a pause. "That’s six hours."

I grin. "You better get to work, then." I hang up as my mind starts to conjure ideas of what I’ll do when I have her address.

I need to leave her alone.

But I already know I can’t. The moment she stepped into that gym was the moment I knew everything I had built up here was f*cking useless against her.