Atlantis

Epilogue

Angel drove her fist into the heavy bag, relishing the solid feel of a blow well struck. She bobbed, doubling her jabs, digging in hooks, and delivering crushing roundhouses and vicious spin kicks. She poured her anger into her workout, attacking as if it, and not Maddock, had wronged her.

Two days! It had been two days since Maddock, Bones, and the others returned from wherever the hell they’d been off to on their last mission to save the world. Since then, all she’d gotten from Maddock were a couple of lame text messages. She wondered if Jade had been a part of the mission, but when she’d asked, Bones had pushed her off the phone, and Avery wasn’t picking up her phone. She’d taken that as a yes.

“Argh!” She slammed her elbow into the bag again and again, imagining Jade’s face and then Maddock’s. Tears welled in her eyes, and she knew she should take a break, but she was out of control. She continued to slam the bag until rough hands pulled her away.

“What the hell are you doing?” Javier, her striking coach, shouted. “What happened to your composure? Your discipline?” Though now in his sixties, Javier retained the strength and fire that fueled a successful boxing career in his younger days. “You are better than this.”

“I know.” Angel jerked away and headed for the locker room. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“You’ve got a fight in one week!” Javier shouted. “Do you think you can clear your head by then, or are we wasting our time?”

Angel stripped her gloves off and gave him the finger with both hands. She didn’t bother with the doorknob, but kicked the door in instead. It wasn’t until she reached the shower that she let the tears flow. How had she messed things up so badly? She’d carried a torch for Maddock for years, and when she finally got him, she let jealousy get in the way. She deserved to lose him.

She turned the hot water all the way up and waited for it to get warm. One at a time, she removed her ankle braces, trunks, and tank top and flung them all against the wall as hard as she could. None was a satisfactory substitute for a heavy bag or someone’s face.

“Need somebody to wash your back?”

“Crap!” Though she still wore compression shorts and a sports bra, she snatched a towel and wrapped herself in it before turning back around. “Maddock! What the hell?”

His eyes, so like the sea on a stormy day, captivated her. She took an involuntary step toward him and then froze. There was something about the way he looked at her that didn’t seem quite right. His jaw was set, his posture rigid, and she saw a hint of uncertainty in his eyes that was so unlike him. He smiled, but it was a small, sad thing.

She wanted to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and cheer him up like she’d done so many times before, but she held back. “Why are you here?”

“Because I can’t get you to talk to me. Texts don’t count, especially the ones you’ve been sending.”

“I suppose that’s fair. So what do you want to talk about?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she supposed it was better this way. She steeled herself for the worst.

“I couldn’t do this over the phone.” Maddock took a deep breath. “I’ve made some big decisions.”