Page 32 of Hard Bargain

He nodded, not trusting himself to answer out loud.

He knew it wouldn’t last. And sure enough, only a few minutes later, his phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up.

Dominic: Tomorrow. 09:00. Ironclad Gym, 214 Harlow St. Come dressed to train.

Just like that, the air left his lungs.

His friends were still talking, laughing about something he’d already lost the thread of. Logan was mid-story, gesturing with a fry. Tara was rolling her eyes at him. All of it painfully normal. Knox turned the phone face-down on the table, forced a smile, and nodded at something Logan said as though he’d heard any of it.

No one at the table seemed to notice the shift. But for him, everything had tilted. He could already feel himself pulling away.

Part of him was already preparing to go whenever Dominic called.

Chapter 10

Knox

Knox pushed through the gym doors at exactly nine. The place smelled like sweat and rubber mats. A few people glanced up when he walked in, then went back to whatever they were doing.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake some of the tension out of them. It didn’t go anywhere.

“Right on time.” Cassian’s voice carried across the gym.

Knox turned to find him leaning against the edge of the ring, already warmed up by the look of him. He pushed off as Knox approached, smile in place. “Was afraid you might bail,” he said.

Knox stopped a few feet away. “Didn’t seem like an option.”

Cassian’s smile didn’t falter, but understanding flickered behind it. “Smart. You’re learning.”

Knox folded his arms. “Dominic sent me here.”

“Yeah,” Cassian said. “He did.”

“Why?”

Cassian tilted his head, studying him for a moment as if deciding how honest to be. “Because that little handoff with those two idiots could’ve gone a hell of a lot worse.”

Knox’s nostrils flared. “I handled it.”

Cassian nodded. “You did. Doesn’t mean you were ready for it.”

The annoying part was how true that sounded.

Cassian stepped closer, not in his space, but close enough that Knox had no choice except to pay attention. “Here’s how this works,” he said. “You’re here all week. Mornings. You show up on time, you do what I tell you, and maybe next time someone puts a gun in your face, you won’t have to rely on blind luck.”

Before Knox could respond, Cassian tossed something at him. Knox caught it on instinct, fingers closing around the fabric. Hand wraps.

“What’s this?” he asked, even though he knew.

Cassian clapped his hands once. “Wrap up.”

Knox exhaled through his nose and started winding the fabric around his knuckles, slower than he probably should have, more focused on getting it right than he wanted to admit.

Cassian watched him the whole time. “Ever trained before?” he asked.

Knox shook his head. “Not like this.”

“Been in fights?”