She snorts. “Well, tough shit, kid. You have to think about it. If Lev and Tomas inherited those enterprises from your father, I think it’s safe to say they benefited from his murder.”
“You think those boys had something to do with it?”
“I don’t know how much stock I would put in teenage hormones,” she says as she pulls off the punching gloves and pulls on a pair of boxing gloves in their stead. “But I can’t speak for their parents.”
“This is nuts.”
She shrugs while raising her fists. “It’s madness. So, what are you going to do about it?”
The two of us dance around each other, waiting for the other to throw a punch. “I guess I’ll keep training or something.”
“Yeah?” She tosses a punch, her glove sailing past my cheek as I dodge. “You didn’t seem so convinced a few seconds ago.”
I inhale a sharp breath as I prepare to attack. “Well, I guess you put it into perspective for me.”
“What?”
“Those alpha jerks aren’t the only ones that will be after me.” I slap her gloves to try to get an opening, but she’s too good at blocking. All of my jabs are useless. I huff with frustration as I add, “So, I guess boxing helps me defend myself against the rest of the world.”
She nods. “It’s more than that, Alex.” She dodges a punch and slams both of her fists into my gloves, knocking me off balance. “Do you have the stomach to kill?”
I grit my teeth, thinking about how my father was caught off-guard.
That won’t be me.
“Yes,” I growl. “I’ll avenge my father’s death.” I lunge forward to nail her shoulder but she dances out of my way, chuckling as she shakes her head.
“Where’s your head?” she asks. “Stop trying to hit me and hit me, Alex.”
“I’m fucking—” I screech when she trots out of my reach, causing me to double over with rage. “Stay the fuck still!”
She shakes her head, crouching behind her gloves. “You won’t get a chance like this in the real world. You either fight to the death or run. Which one are you going to do?”
“I’m going to fight.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I huff angrily as my heart transforms into a hummingbird, wings beating ceaselessly inside my chest. Coach Neill shifts, her face wavering through my reddened vision and turning into the people I hate most right now—Parker, Soren, Tomas.
Planting my feet firmly into the ground gives me leverage and I lunge for her, nailing her with the wild haymaker she taught me about twenty minutes ago. When I have her disoriented, I strike her shoulder, nailing her until she grunts and recoils to crouch behind her gloves. But I’m beyond relentless, unable to stop myself from landing a jab on her chin.
Her head flings back with a heart-stopping jerk that makes me halt in my tracks. “Oh fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
She spits and then grins, blood shimmering on her teeth. “Finally.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Who cares? You landed a goddamn punch,” she says while panting. “Listen, Alex. I know this goes without saying, but you need to make sure you don’t get emotionally involved with those boys.”
I arch my right eyebrow, curious what makes her say that. Does she know how I feel about Lev? Regardless of what I might feel, I scoff nonchalantly and ask, “What do you mean?”
She drapes her arm over my shoulder and guides me toward the locker rooms. “Love will kill you faster than a bullet. The less you care about these kids, the better your chances of survival.”
“Coach Neill,” I sigh. “I don’t see how I could ever love any one of those boys.”