The Butcher's Bride
“Come correct it, then.”
I turned as Avery,one of our best foot soldiers and my favorite sparring partner,stepped into the ring. Tall, fast, and cocky as hell. Just how I liked my distractions.
He grinned, tossing me a pair of gloves. “Thought you only beat up people for work.”
“I make exceptions when I’m pissed off.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You’ve no idea.”
We touched gloves. I let him land the first hit, just to give him hope. Then I danced backward, eyes locked on his chest. He jabbed, I ducked. He swung, I spun and cracked him across the jaw with a sharp left.
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