Masked (6 page)

She looked down at herself then back to him. “No?”

He chuckled. “Where is your head today? You’ve seemed off all morning.”

She shrugged again in response. “I have a lot on my mind.”

His smile dropped away in a flash. Bridgette hated that she had done that to him. She much preferred him smiling. His face was solemn now, a look of understanding in his eyes.

“Right. Sorry,” he muttered. He turned and walked away from her, leaving Bridgette alone and confused in the middle of the room. What had she said? Obviously she was missing something. He grabbed two red boxing gloves from off the floor and walked back, handing them over wordlessly. Bridgette followed suit and didn’t speak as she pulled the gloves onto her hands.

“Ready?”

She looked up at the dark blue eyes that seemed almost black at times, and nodded. Was she ready? Probably not, but there was no going back now. Roman lifted his hands and waited.

Her heart started to race at the idea she was supposed to punch
Roman Adamson
. He kind of scared her. Okay, he terrified her. How was she going to punch him without instinctively worrying about some sort of retaliation? It’s Roman Adamson for goodness sake. A person doesn’t just walk up and punch him, and get away with it.

He watched her patiently as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her palms began to sweat inside the gloves.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked.

Divine intervention. Bridgette took a deep breath. No one was going to magically appear and save her from this, so she might as well get it over with. Lifting her hands in front of her face, she turned so her left foot was in front, and threw out her right hand, pivoting as she did. Her fist barely made an impact, his hand hardly moving. Roman’s lips twitched.

“Really, Lottey? That’s the best you’ve got? I know we haven’t trained in a while, but you can do better than that.”

Bridgette rolled her eyes, getting into position again. Focus, she told herself. It wasn’t that hard. Just hit the pad square in the middle, and try to put some strength behind it. How difficult could it be? She swung again, this time completely missing her target. Roman’s laughter rippled across her skin, causing goose bumps.

“Shut up,” she said, even though her lips twitched at his amusement. “Put your hands back up.”

His laughter ebbed, but a smile remained, distracting her once again. “You sure? You might hurt yourself.”

He was teasing her. Bridgette narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll hurt you if you don’t watch it. Now put your hands back up.” She was surprised by herself. That might have sounded a lot like something Charlotte would say, but it was genuinely coming from her this time. She’d show Roman she wasn’t as weak as she appeared. She could do this.

“At this rate, I doubt you could hurt a fly.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she replied, hopping on her feet now. “What? You scared I’ll just get better and then take you down?”

His smile stretched wider as his hands rose again, his feet braced apart. “I’m not scared of anything, darling.”

Bridgette ignored the rush that his endearment caused and focused on her target. When she swung this time, something felt different. She couldn’t pinpoint what, but her movement suddenly seemed fluid, her fist connecting at just the right speed and strength. There was a loud smacking sound as she hit his pad. Roman grunted, his eyes widening.

“Nice shot,” he said appreciatively.

Bridgette smiled, hopping on her feet again. It was a good shot! She’d even made his hand move a little.

“Again,” he ordered, “And follow-up with the left.”

They continued like this, Bridgette doing combinations, her punches landing with a smack. She felt exhilarated. Her movements became increasingly more graceful and natural. Finally he called a halt to it, shaking out his hands.

“I’m impressed,” he said with a smile as they put the pads and gloves away.

“Thanks,” she replied, grinning like an idiot beneath her mask.

“Let’s work on some hand-to-hand now.”

Bridgette watched him walk back to the centre of the mats, frozen in place. Hand-to-hand? She didn’t think that sounded like a good idea. He waited expectantly for her to join him, his eyes burning with something she didn’t understand. Walking slowly to where he stood, she stopped in front of him, unsure of what to do next.

He didn’t give her much time to think as he made his first move. She was so surprised, that in the next instant she found herself surrounded by his body. His arms were like steel bands around her torso, her arms pinned to her sides. His breath warmed her ear as his chest felt like fire flush against her back. She didn’t even try to fight, her senses overwhelmed by his nearness. Even when he’d visit her at the Red Lounge where she used to work as a dancer, they’d never touched to this degree. It was heady and felt disturbingly
nice
. She should step away, or do something to free herself, but instead she found her body melting into his.

“Gottcha,” he whispered in her ear. Did he ever. He had no idea how his simple presence affected her. She both hated it and loved it. “Now what are you going to do?”

Words were too difficult, so she simply shrugged within his embrace. He chuckled, his chest vibrating against her back. His arms dropped away. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn he seemed as reluctant to sever the contact as she was.

They faced each other again. This time she paid better attention, pushing down her reaction to him and concentrating on what she needed to do. Bridgette would not let this man cloud her mind any more. She was here for a purpose, and no one was going to distract her from that.

When he came at her the second time she was prepared. Moving lithely, she ducked under his arms, and stepped to the side, sending him barreling forward into empty space. She turned quickly, waiting for him to come again. His arms snaked out, but caught at nothing as she ducked and dived beneath them. On and on it went, Roman trying to catch her or land a hit, his arms, legs, hands all working to achieve even the briefest of touches – all of them failing.

Bridgette moved faster than she had ever moved before. Her body twisted and turned effortlessly, most likely the result of her years of dance. What caught her by surprise was the speed in which she was doing it. Roman was by no means an unworthy opponent. Each attack was calculated and executed with precision. He wasn’t out to hurt her, but he was definitely out to win this little sparring match. Even though he was quick, Bridgette seemed to be quicker.

After one attack, in which Roman tried to swipe beneath her legs to trip her, and that Bridgette easily avoided, she noticed an opening for her own attack. This whole time she had been concentrating on defense. It was time to go on the offense. As she jumped in the air, Roman’s leg met nothing as it grazed the floor beneath her. She spun, her left leg coming out and connecting with his side so forcefully that he ended up sprawled on the floor.

What the heck? How had she just managed that? The whole thing felt like it was in slow motion, but it had been so quick it only lasted a second. She stood in shock for a moment before breaking out into laughter. It bubbled up so unexpectedly, there was no stopping it.
She,
Bridgette Hatcher, just knocked down the big and powerful Roman Adamson! She felt invigorated and unbeatable.

Her laughter still filling the space, she jumped around in a victory dance, not caring that Roman watched her from his position on the floor with an amused grin on his face.

“Are you about finished?” he asked.

“Not even close,” she answered, jumping around like a child. “I won!” She laughed. “
I
beat
you,
Roman Adamson. Ha!” She stopped, breathing a bit quicker now that she’d just danced around like an idiot. She stood with her hands on her hips, a ridiculous grin still plastered on her face.

Roman watched her carefully, no longer smiling. “Take off the mask.”

“No,” she said instantly, her body stiffening.

He wanted to
see
her. Never once, in all the years he’d known Lottey, had he ever seen her act this carefree. Not only that, but she had actually managed to knock him on his ass. He was genuinely impressed, and then some. Her movements were faster than he’d ever seen. Lottey was never a good fighter, unless she used her mind reading abilities to hear what her opponent meant to do next. But he knew she wasn’t doing that now. She had promised a long time ago never to invade his mind, and he trusted her to keep that promise.

What she was demonstrating now was simply skill, something he never knew she possessed. It left him in awe. If only someone else had been the one to fight her, then he would have been able to just stand back and watch the thing from the sidelines. Her movements were graceful and fluid, like she was performing a dance. It took every ounce of concentration and discipline for him to stay focused and continue his attacks, rather than step back and just simply watch.

Then to see her jump around in unrestrained joy…he had no words for how he felt. It scared him a little. This was his little Lottey, not some girl he should be lusting after. It wasn’t even just that he found her absolutely stunning in that moment, but he was drawn to the energy that seemed to be pulsating from her. It was new, something he’d never sensed from Lottey before. It pulled him to her like a physical force that he had to fight against.

To see such lightness in a time of constant dark was like a breath of fresh air. What happened to make her like this all of a sudden? The only time he’d ever seen her
really
happy was when she was with the rebel. Roman stilled. That was the change. She found someone who finally opened her heart to more than just death and destruction. That’s all Roman had given her. That’s all he’d given anyone. He doubted he had a speck of light left in him. But watching Charlotte gloat adorably, prancing around the gym, made him hope, for the first time in so many years, that he might be able to find happiness one day too.

CHAPTER FIVE

“What did you find out?” Trent asked as Tyler entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

“The city is crawling with soldiers,” he answered, “more so than usual. They’re searching for us, all of us. If any of us step foot in our neighbourhood, we’re as good as dead.”

“Well isn’t that great,” Garrett muttered. Seamus grunted, his face impassive. Charlotte looked at him for a moment, wondering what it was that she found so odd about him. His eyes met hers for only a second, blinking once, before looking away again. They were empty, void of any of the laughter or joy that had been there before. Seamus was that one person who could brighten the mood in a room with a simple look or word. Now he was reserved and quiet, his posture stiff and cold.

Charlotte prayed the change she saw in him wasn’t a permanent one. For someone like Seamus to be broken at the hands of those she used to work for would be a tragedy.

“Where does that leave us?” said Trent.

“Screwed,” answered one of the men she didn’t know.

“They won’t be looking for me,” Charlotte pointed out.

“Jesus! Not this again,” Pete said, throwing up one of his hands in exasperation. He turned to face her again. “Charlotte, get this through your head now – You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere. Understood?”

“Boy, you have a lot to learn about women,” Michael murmured just before she spoke.

“You. Do. Not. Get. To. Tell. Me. Where. I. Can. Go. Understood?” They glared at each other.

“Lass, you should listen to him. There are more soldiers there than I’ve ever seen. I almost got caught a number of times. It’s no place for a woman,” Tyler said.

Charlotte looked to Michael for some reason, only to see him already watching her, wearing an amused smile. “I think they’re all doomed,” he said to her. She couldn’t help but agree. Who did these guys think they were, telling her what to do? If she wanted to get up and go save her sister, she damn well would! Just to prove a point, she stood up, only to find herself pushed back down by two strong hands a second later.

Pete bent over her, already on his feet, his hands gripping the arms of the chair, locking her in. “I will tie you down, I swear it.” His eyes told her he was serious.

“If it was one of your siblings in there, you’d be acting the same way I am,” she argued.

“Of course. But not if the situation was too dangerous to ensure we all got out. That would just be stupidity. I’m not stupid, love. And neither are you.” He stared at her for a moment longer, communicating with his eyes that she should not challenge him again. Surprisingly she remained quiet. Normally she would have continued to fight, but she didn’t like fighting with Pete. She had just gotten him back, there was no way she was going to push him away again. That and she knew he was right. Charlotte had the tendency to run head-on into situations without considering all the risks. She knew going after Bridgette was dangerous for the both of them, even though every instinct in her screamed for her to do just that. Charlotte gave Pete a quick nod of concession.

“Good,” he said. He stood and turned to face the large Scotsman. Tyler had been the one to find her when her father held her captive. The first sight of him had her backing up in fear. It wasn’t that he was physically intimidating, although he was quite large and brawny, and the tattoos that ran up both arms and even onto the sides of his head were a bit scary. No, it was the cold look in his eyes that had made her take a step back; eyes of a clear green that held no warmth when he looked at you. She knew he was a nice guy, but he certainly came across a bit menacing.