Page 80 of Shadow Of Sin

The problem with fighting someone who has no pattern is that my brain can’t predict what’s coming next. So he makes me work harder. But the advantage is that someone with no pattern also has no defense.

Gavin throws a wide hook to start. I duck it, step inside, and sweep his front leg. He hits the mat flat on his back.

The sound he makes is somewhere between a groan and a laugh.

“Okay,” he says from the floor. “That was fucked up, bro.”

“You left your base open.”

“I left my—dude, you just leg-swept me like a goddamn ninja.”

“It’s a basic takedown.”

“For who? Bruce Lee?” He rolls to his feet and slams his gloves together. “Again.”

We go again. He lands a shot to my ribs that actually hurts. Gavin hits harder than you’d expect from the kid who spins pens and lives on fatty deli meats and Italian spuckies. But thirty seconds later, he throws a cross that’s too wide and I catch his arm and fling him on his ass again.

“I hate you,” he says in a cheerful voice because he thrives on this shit. “I hate you and your stupid pattern-reading brain.”

“My brain isn’t stupid. It’s the one thing about me that works.”

“Everything about you works, asshole. You just don’t know it yet.”

That lands weird. I don’t have time to process it because the gym door opens again.

I swallow a groan. Ronan.

He walks in the way he walks into every room. Like he owns it. He looks at me and Gavin on the mat and Cillian leaning against the ropes.

“You got room for one more?” he asks.

Gavin scrambles off the mat. “I’m out. My pride can only take so much abuse in one morning.”

Cillian raises an eyebrow at me. I give him a nod. He and Gavin move toward the bench.

Ronan wraps his hands, keeping his eyes on me. His movements are slow and methodical. The same way my father used to do it, which I try not to think about right now.

He steps onto the mat.

Ronan is different from Cillian and Gavin. He’s properly trained. Uncle Patrick spent more hours with Ronan than with all of us combined because Ronan was the one being groomed to take over the family, and leaders need to know how to fight. His stance is tight. His guard doesn’t drop. His footwork is patient and controlled.

He’s also watching me the way he watches everything. Always looking for the weakness.

We circle each other. Luckily, Gavin tapped out before I had to expend too much energy on him, so I’m fresh. Kind of.

Ronan throws a jab to test my range. I slip around it and counter. He blocks my punch. We reset. And over and over.

“You’ve been distracted,” he says.

“I’ve been working.”

“No, you’ve been distracted by the work. There’s a difference.” He throws a combination, and my forearm catches his hook. Fucking punch rattles my bones. I shake it off and keep going.

“The Albanian connection,” he says, circling. “That was good work.”

“Eva found it.”

“I know who found it.” He throws another punch. I block his fist, but barely. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”