Fighting Conviction by Greer Rivers
Chapter Eight
“What the fuck was that?”
The exclamation slipped out of him before he could rein it in. Devil hated cursing in front of Ellie, but the damn waif of a girl was laid out on the mat like he’d gone full throttle with the punching mitt. Which he hadn’t. He’d made sure of that, actually.
He kneeled on the ground beside her and tossed the mitts to the side. “You okay, baby? Shi-oot.” He brushed his hands over her face and cradled her cheeks, careful not to move her too much in case she’d hit her head too hard or suffered whiplash.
Ellie groaned and those caramel eyes peeked out between half closed eyelids. “What the heck did you do that for?” She grunted as she sat up on her elbows. “You tryna kill me?”
When she sat up without any sign of injury, Devil released the breath he’d been holding. It wasn’t until he sat back on his heels and relaxed her words finally registered.
“Kill you? I barely touched you! And what was that? You didn’t even try to block my strike!” He pulled his hair at its ends trying to figure out what the fuck she was thinking not protecting herself.
“What do you mean, ‘block your strike?’ You weren’t supposed to hit me. I was the one doing the hitting!”
Devil paused, first to assess her already reddening left cheek—damn the girl had sensitive skin—then to see if she was joking. But no, she was dead serious.
“Hold on… you didn’t expect your attacker to strike back? Do you honestly think they’ll sit there and take getting beat up by a girl?”
She covered her face and groaned. “Ugh, no. Of course not. It’s just… Jason doesn’t ever hit me back. I wasn’t expecting you to do it.”
Devil’s mouth opened and shut a few times before he finally figured out what to say.
“How the hell are you supposed to be prepared for a fight if you don’t practice the other half of it? Fighting isn’t just about offense. Especially not in your case. A girl your size needs to figure out how to outsmart, outmaneuver, and outrun her attacker.”
He held three fingers up for emphasis. “Your priorities are to run, hide, fight. In that order.” Unable to help himself, he reached out and brushed her now bright red cheek. “Not to mention, it’s absolutely vital to know what a hit is gonna feel like so you can react through the pain during the real thing.” He reluctantly brought his hand back and shook his head. “Shi-oot, Jason wasn’t teaching you how to save yourself. He was killing you slowly with misguided confidence.”
Ellie’s otherwise tan cheeks paled, making the mark from his strike more pronounced. “You mean, I can’t defend myself? Even after all this practicing’?”
Devil cursed inwardly at the defeat laced in her words. He didn’t want to scare her, but coddling her could prove deadly in the real world.
“No, I mean… you gave a pretty killer punch. I had to put some resistance behind the mitt. But without knowing defensive moves too, you may as well be fighting with your hands tied behind your back. Literally.” He scrubbed his beard. “Actually, that might be a good exercise…”
A thumping sound brought his attention back to the woman in front of him, now collapsed on the floor and groaning in frustration. “This is hopeless. I can’t even take a hit by a padded pillow without falling to the ground.” She rubbed her cheek with the hand that wasn’t flung over her eyes. “That kinda hurt by the way.”
“Get over it. Physical pain is easy. Mind over matter.” Devil leaned forward and pulled Ellie’s hand away from her face to make sure she was paying attention. “It’s not hopeless. You’ve got a good foundation. We’ll work with what you already know.” He stood up from the mat and held out his hand. She gave an adorable grunt before grabbing his offering.
The touch shouldn’t have been anything but platonic. It always had been whenever he’d assisted his teammates in getting back to their feet after a fight. But Ellie’s hand in his made his fingers ache to feel every inch of her skin. He dropped it and backed away as soon as she’d steadied.
“Let’s try again. Get back into your stance, but this time—wait, what’re you doing?” She was pulling her goddamn long-sleeved T-shirt off. How was he supposed to teach her like a regular trainee if she was half naked? “Ellie…” He gritted out each word through tight lips as she tossed her shirt near his duffel bag. “What are you doing?”
“Hold your horses, okay? If we’re gonna do some serious fighting, I’m taking this thing off. I’m so sweaty the sleeves are sticking to me.”
He massaged his eyes and turned away, praying he wouldn’t get hard just from her stripping a sweaty shirt off. Why he was being so fucking insane, he had no idea. Already, he’d made an ass of himself by flirting with her. She was his buddy’s sister and now he was charged with training her to protect herself. If he didn’t get his shit together he’d be no good to her and if anything happened to her on his watch it’d be just like—
No. It’d be worse. There’d be no coming back from that.
He inhaled a deep, centering breath through his nose before forcing a hard exhale out of his mouth.
“What do you think?”
Devil blinked and realized she’d been talking to him. “‘What do I think’ about what?”
Ellie perched her hands on her hips and tapped her foot, obviously annoyed he hadn’t been paying attention. “Well… If you train me and I learn how to kick some butt, could I join the BlackStone team? You know, to help figure out who was behind taking me and Sash—”
“No.”
The word came out harsher than he’d intended and she clamped her lips closed. There was no way in fucking hell he was letting Ellie anywhere near their plans to take down the bastards who kidnapped her. He’d never forgive himself if she got hurt again.
“Welp, that’s that, I guess.” She studied the ground as she mumbled, compelling him to explain, but she spoke before he had a chance.
“I’m ready.” She rolled back her slumped shoulders, seemingly shedding her disappointment for the sake of the exercise.
Devil paused mid-nod and his eyes widened. Ellie’s new posture highlighted her breasts, two perfect handfuls trapped inside her tight black sports bra that zipped in the fucking front. He didn’t even know they made those, but now that he did, his fingers ached to draw down the short zipper and free them right into his eager hands. It didn’t help her black leggings were just as tight. There was nothing to hide her trim hourglass figure, and he desperately wanted to get lost in time.
He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck as he turned away to hide the evidence of his arousal. They weren’t there to fuck around, especially not literally. He was teaching her to defend herself if she was ever attacked. Again. That sobering thought was enough to calm his dick back down.
“Right. This time, look forward and keep your rear fist up to block while you punch with your lead fist.”
She got into her stance again before nodding. “I need to look at your shoulders, right?”
Devil shook his head and put the padded mitts back on. “Nope. Just forward. It’s best if you don’t look at anything specific. Watch my upper body and look for openings to get a good punch in. You’ll more naturally defend yourself if you’re focusing on where you can hit next.”
“Got it. Oh wait! First…” She ran to his phone and paused “Shout at the Devil” by Motley Crue.
“Hey, that’s a good—” Low piano keys came over the speaker until a woman asked lyrically, “Why a man great, ‘til he gotta be great?”
Devil groaned louder than the music. “Come on, El. Lizzo again? You have her on fu-reaking repeat at the clinic.”
Ellie burst into laughter. “Hey, if you get to beat me up, I get to listen to what I want while you do it. We can turn it back to that old depressing crap when your mitts are off and I’m the only one doing the hitting.”
“Watch it,” Devil shouted over the music, unable to hold back a grin. “Just because the lyrics actually mean something doesn’t mean it’s depressing. And don’t knock it just because it was before your time. You should respect your elders.” Devil made sure to give her a pointed look as she returned to the center of the mat.
“Elders?” she scoffed. “You’re twenty-seven, hardly a senior citizen.”
“Well, in this gym, I’m the professor and you’re the student, so you get one Lizzo song and then it’s back to my ‘old depressing crap’.”
Ellie rolled her eyes and resumed her stance. “Whatever you say, sir.”
All sensation from his extremities shot to his groin. He watched helplessly as Ellie giggled, still totally unaware of the effect that word had on him.
That’s what he should remember. She was too innocent to even know what she was saying. Too naïve to know the power she could have over a man like him.
Instead of aiming what he knew would be a lust-filled gaze at Ellie, he turned to study his mitts, adjusting himself behind one of them. He couldn’t resist watching her in the mirror, though, even as he clenched and unclenched his hands around the straps.
“Is something wrong with the pillow thing?” she asked before her golden eyes met his in the mirror. Her sharp inhale made his cock twitch against the tie of his gym shorts and he brought his stare back to his own green eyes. His hunger for her showed plainly on his face, and he was looking at her like a fucking dessert.
She shifted on her feet, squeezing her legs together, and he ground his teeth to the point of pain to try to regain control. If he didn’t act quickly, he’d have his cake and eat it too. Right on the gym floor.
“Stance,” he barked, keeping one mitt low in front of the tent in his shorts.
“What?” she asked, her brow raised in confusion.
He drew his arm back in an exaggerated motion to hit her with the mitt. Reading him properly, she brought her right fist up, barely in time to block her face.
“What the heck, Dev—”
“Stance, Ellie. Always be in a fighting position and ready for strikes.”
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before she shook her head slightly and followed his command. Getting back into training mode was helping. Concentrating on making sure Ellie was able to fight for herself should the moment arise was the cold shower he needed.
“It sounds counterintuitive but if you don’t have time to block, lean into the punch. The attacker will likely miss and scrape the side of your head or you could absorb it with your forehead, which knowing your hard head, would do more damage to the other guy.”
“Hey!” Ellie yelled and delivered a good hook.
“Nice.” Dev caught it with the mitt. “Keep going.”
They began to spar and Devil made sure to use exaggerated movements to help Ellie learn where to block. Her strikes and blocks were already efficient, but after just a few sets they became fluid, only needing a couple adjustments.
“Tighten your neck muscles. Clench your jaw, and if you anticipate any hits to your stomach, tighten those muscles, too. Try to shift so the punch lands to your sides rather than somewhere vital.” She got too close again and Devil feinted to hit her with the mitt.
She growled and backed away, finally out of the danger zone—the area where Devil could hit her with his long arms, but she couldn’t reach him.
“Yes, exactly. Keep backing up when you can. You need to stay in the safe zone.” Ellie raised her eyebrow. “Where neither of us can strike the other.”
“Sounds familiar,” Ellie muttered.
Devil ignored whatever that meant. “Remember to strike when necessary, but every fighting strategy you have should center on escape. Let’s keep going. Just one more set.”
Her movements were growing slow, like she was tired already. Ellie nodded and blew blonde wisps out of her face while she tracked his body language.
“Do you have a bobby pin?”
“What?” She paused in her movements and looked up, still looking back and forth to his mitts.
“A bobby pin. Those little things for your hair?”
“Oh, um, not on me but I own them.”
“Start wearing them.”
“Excuse me?” Her face scrunched up cute and Dev resisted the urge to grin like a fool at her.
“They’re good for making sure your hair stays back. That way, when you kick someone’s ass, they can see your pretty face while you do it.” He dared a wink at her, knowing he was flirting with danger, and when she laughed it off, he continued. “Plus, it can help you unlock doors, break out of handcuffs, they’re really probably the best covert weapon a woman has at her fingertips.”
“Good to know,” Ellie muttered, getting back into stance.
Goddamn, her focus is hot.
They continued to go back and forth, this time with her actually managing to get some jabs at the mitts on his hands.
He hadn’t lied before. For how little she was, she packed some power, even when her stamina was waning. He’d always been impressed with her inner strength. Witnessing her physical strength was a new pleasure.
Emotions Devil had locked down were threatening to break free. He didn’t need to question why they were battling against their cage. He knew why.
It was the first time they’d had time alone together without the threat of people coming in and out. No BlackStone agent was at the facility. It was just them.
Him and Ellie.
The devil and his angel.
And damn, was that tempting.
Devil pushed the thought away when he noticed her posture slacking past the point of fatigue and her strikes slowing. After she missed a few attacks from the mitt to her face and body without any attempt of blocking, Devil called a break.
He tossed her a water bottle and watched as she swallowed, mesmerized by a single glistening bead of moisture on her neck as it dripped down to the valley between her breasts. It was that drop that made him realize her chest was heaving with each panting breath. A crinkle of the plastic water bottle drew his attention to her shaking hands and he registered, not for the first time, the prominent bags under her eyes.
“You okay, angel?”
She paused in her sips. “Uh, aside from the fact I’m getting beat up? Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Har har, very funny.”
Ellie curtsied a fake skirt and Devil smirked.
“Okay, cut the sass. When was the last time you slept? Or ate? You should be tired after a hard workout, but” —he gestured in her direction— “not this tired.”
Ellie scoffed before tossing the now empty bottle near his duffel bag. “Wow, thanks jerk.” She rolled her eyes and Devil felt a pang of guilt at the hurt she was trying to hide with her flippant hair flick.
The gesture was out of character for her, almost a shadow of someone else. From everything Jaybird said, Ellie’s friend, the one who’d been murdered when they were kidnapped, was bold and full of life. Devil knew from experience the imprint a childhood friend had on your personality. Especially one you lose.
“I’ll have you know, I already ran a 5K today and I had no plans this morning of getting my sass kicked.” Her arm moved across her chest as she stretched it out with the other. “What’s next, sir?”
Devil gritted his teeth, refusing to acknowledge that word. It went straight to his cock every time and she wasn’t going to get to deflect this conversation again. She’d already sidestepped it at Sasha Saves with Jules and Nora the week before. He didn’t know if anyone else had called her out on it since, but he didn’t need SOCM training to know something was up. Her health was more important than hurting her feelings.
“Here.” He bent for his duffel bag and tossed her a small towel along with her shirt as he grabbed his. “Let’s call it for the day. I’ll drive you home.”
Ellie eyed him cautiously and her mischievous smile slipped. “But… I can get Virginia to take me—”
“Nope. If I drive you it’ll be easier to see if someone’s following you.”
Her eyes widened. “You know about that?”
“Yep. And I’m not too happy I didn’t hear it from you.” She looked down and he lifted her chin to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She pinched her eyes closed and groaned before opening them again. “Ugh, I felt dumb because I’m afraid of my own shadow lately. I only told Jason because that was our deal.” She withdrew her chin from his fingers and pulled her shirt on with frustrated, jerky movements. “And besides, ever since I told him, I haven’t even seen it around anymore. I hadn’t thought to say anything since.”
He shook his head and pulled his shirt over his head. “I don’t like it, El. Your brother is preoccupied lately. If you notice anything else odd or making you feel uncomfortable, let me know, got it?”
A spark of defiance flitted across her face before she nodded. He would’ve harped on it more, but something about her submission made his chest puff out in satisfaction. Instead, Devil wiped his face and led Ellie toward the garage in weighted silence.
When they reached his truck, Devil opened the door for her before she got a chance to do it herself. The lift kit Phoenix installed on Devil’s old Ford was too high for her to climb in gracefully, so he appreciated the opportunity to admire her sexy ass in tight leggings as he boosted her into the cab.
He adjusted himself while he rounded the hood to the driver’s side and hopped behind the steering wheel.
“I could’ve done more, you know.” Ellie’s voice was soft, like she didn’t quite believe herself. “I wasn’t tired or anything.”
Devil entered the keycode on his phone that Snake had set up to open the garage, and drove out of the gated complex toward Ellie’s dorm. BlackStone Securities was on the outskirts of town, which only gave him around twenty minutes to get something off his chest before they reached the ASU campus.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, actually.” He watched from his peripheral as Ellie sat up.
“So talk,” Ellie replied, adding a false airiness to her tone.
He inhaled a deep breath, reminding himself that making them both uncomfortable was going to do her some good. “You seem awfully… busy, lately.”
Ellie lifted her shoulder and fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “I’ve had a lot on my plate. With Sasha Saves, school, dealing with… things.”
He waited for her to continue but she didn’t pick up after her words drifted off. At a stop sign, he reached to squeeze her leg, only to return his hand to the steering wheel when Ellie lifted her foot up on the seat and rested her chin on her knee.
“How’s that going? Those… things?”
Ellie shrugged again. After a few more moments of silence, Devil’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. Black feather tips outlining his forearms rolled with the veins in his clenched hands.
Getting the tattoo had been a twisted welcome home present after his massive failure in MF7. After Eagle died in his arms, wounds Devil thought had scarred long ago, threatened to bleed out through the new cut. The ink ensured he never forgot the deaths haunting him the most. The ones he could’ve prevented if he hadn’t let distractions get in the way. In his mind, losing focus brought on the demon whose tattered wings were tattooed on his back.
The angel of death.
The devil.
He didn’t want that guilt for Ellie, though he had a feeling the angel beside him agonized over her past as much as he did. Maybe more. But unlike him, Ellie didn’t deserve the shame. Knowing she suffered in silence sliced at his wounds all over again.
“You know, if you ever wanna talk…” As he spoke, Ellie refused to look at him and she started picking at long strands of gold from her ponytail. “I’m no conversationalist, El, but I’m a listener…”
She nodded slightly. Silence passed between them before she slowly unbuckled herself.
“Ellie, what are you—”
She scooted closer to him and locked herself in the middle seat. Grief radiated from her, seeping through the space left between them.
Devil blinked back the sting her gesture brought to his eyes. She hadn’t verbalized anything, but his body replied. He wondered for a split second whether returning her touch would be the right move when she leaned against him. He shifted to drive with his left hand and hovered over hers on her thigh before he held it in a loose grip.
On an inhale, Devil savored her faint flowery scent. After what she’d been through, to reach out with touch was the ultimate sign of faith. The weight of her trust in him grew in his chest, making it difficult to speak. He swallowed past the emotion gripping his throat.
“I’ve lost people, too, angel. I don’t know everything you’re going through. But I might know some of it.”
Ellie rested her head on his shoulder and nodded against his arm.
Making sure he could still see to drive, he whispered a kiss against her hair before laying his head against hers. The pain she hid under her responsibilities and determination shed from her in shudders as she cried softly. He’d do everything in his power to heal her.
Devil may have been haunted by his own ghosts, but he’d be damned if he couldn’t bring his angel back to life.
