ass in for fraud. You’ve betrayed my brother’s trust, and that’s not something I take lightly. I don’t give a shit about you duping me and the other guys; we’re all prejudiced assholes anyway, which is why we never gave Ross Jackson a chance. However, Luca’s got a heart as big as a house, and he likes to give chances to people he thinks deserves them. The chances we never had. So, for Luca’s sake, I’m gonna give you this chance. You’ve proved how determined you are, like no one I’ve ever heard of. It’s so ballsy what you’ve done here I can’t think of the words. So you’ve got that going for you.” He paused, put his cap back on, and stroked his chin again.
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he went on. “I’m just trying to think of a way this can work. Once your cover’s blown, there’ll be a fucking revolt here if we even suggest keeping you on the payroll.”
“Then let me carry on as Ross Jackson. I can—”
“Ugh! No way. That would freak me out.” He shuddered then put his hands in his jacket pockets. “But don’t worry, I’ll figure out some way to get you in here.”
“What does that mean?”
His turn to shrug. “Can’t exactly train you without equipment, can I? And you’re sure as hell not coming to my place to train.”
Rose didn’t know what to say. She was still a little in shock at having her cover blown so spectacularly and by the worst possible guy—or so she’d thought. If only she’d known Wright Hook had a soft spot for damaged girls who had hot buns and looked like a Becky.
“What do we do now?” she asked, one eye still on the hidden exit.
“Go home. Sleep on it. If you decide you want me to coach you, be at the northwest edge of the lake tomorrow morning at six thirty. You know the slipway, near the sailing club boathouse?”
“Yeah. I run around the lake all the time.”
“Uh-huh. We’ve probably seen each other, then, and not realized it. Tomorrow we’ll go a different way.”
“How far will we be going?”
“As far as you can until you can’t go any further,” he replied. “That’s important.”
“Why?”
“I need to know your limits before we start to push them.”
“But I don’t need fitness training,” she insisted, lifting up her tee to show him her six-pack. “See? I’m in shape already.”
Avery seemed to approve of what he saw. “It’s not just about being in shape. It’s about finding your limits and pushing so far past them they no longer exist. If you want to be a fighter, you’ll have to change the way you think. Start by ignoring how good you look. Stay away from mirrors while you exercise. Concentrate on reaching those endurance limits. When you get there, that’s when you’ll learn how to fight…against yourself, your own fears and doubts. I can show you all kinds of martial arts, but the only way you’re going to know yourself as a fighter is by how you react to those limits.”
“That voice telling me when to quit, you mean?”
“Exactly. Always listen to that voice. It’s there to keep you safe, like a biological red flag. It knows when your body’s had enough. But here’s the thing…that voice always plays it safe. It leaves you something in reserve, kind of like an airplane and its fuel gauge. Zero is never absolute zero; it’s just zero on the gauge. You’ve always got a little something left in the tank. What I’m saying is that as a fighter you need to tap into that reserve fuel. You need to be able to prove that red flag wrong and keep on going. Throw up if you have to, but don’t stop till you feel you’ve reached your limit and pushed it as far as it will go. Anything less and you’ve lost before you even get in the ring with a real fighter.”
Rose liked his tough talk and the fact that he knew, personally, what it took to reach those limits. Avery Wright finding her here
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he went on. “I’m just trying to think of a way this can work. Once your cover’s blown, there’ll be a fucking revolt here if we even suggest keeping you on the payroll.”
“Then let me carry on as Ross Jackson. I can—”
“Ugh! No way. That would freak me out.” He shuddered then put his hands in his jacket pockets. “But don’t worry, I’ll figure out some way to get you in here.”
“What does that mean?”
His turn to shrug. “Can’t exactly train you without equipment, can I? And you’re sure as hell not coming to my place to train.”
Rose didn’t know what to say. She was still a little in shock at having her cover blown so spectacularly and by the worst possible guy—or so she’d thought. If only she’d known Wright Hook had a soft spot for damaged girls who had hot buns and looked like a Becky.
“What do we do now?” she asked, one eye still on the hidden exit.
“Go home. Sleep on it. If you decide you want me to coach you, be at the northwest edge of the lake tomorrow morning at six thirty. You know the slipway, near the sailing club boathouse?”
“Yeah. I run around the lake all the time.”
“Uh-huh. We’ve probably seen each other, then, and not realized it. Tomorrow we’ll go a different way.”
“How far will we be going?”
“As far as you can until you can’t go any further,” he replied. “That’s important.”
“Why?”
“I need to know your limits before we start to push them.”
“But I don’t need fitness training,” she insisted, lifting up her tee to show him her six-pack. “See? I’m in shape already.”
Avery seemed to approve of what he saw. “It’s not just about being in shape. It’s about finding your limits and pushing so far past them they no longer exist. If you want to be a fighter, you’ll have to change the way you think. Start by ignoring how good you look. Stay away from mirrors while you exercise. Concentrate on reaching those endurance limits. When you get there, that’s when you’ll learn how to fight…against yourself, your own fears and doubts. I can show you all kinds of martial arts, but the only way you’re going to know yourself as a fighter is by how you react to those limits.”
“That voice telling me when to quit, you mean?”
“Exactly. Always listen to that voice. It’s there to keep you safe, like a biological red flag. It knows when your body’s had enough. But here’s the thing…that voice always plays it safe. It leaves you something in reserve, kind of like an airplane and its fuel gauge. Zero is never absolute zero; it’s just zero on the gauge. You’ve always got a little something left in the tank. What I’m saying is that as a fighter you need to tap into that reserve fuel. You need to be able to prove that red flag wrong and keep on going. Throw up if you have to, but don’t stop till you feel you’ve reached your limit and pushed it as far as it will go. Anything less and you’ve lost before you even get in the ring with a real fighter.”
Rose liked his tough talk and the fact that he knew, personally, what it took to reach those limits. Avery Wright finding her here
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