22. Radley
Chapter twenty-two
Radley
Present Day
I am spending another weekend at the gym preparing for my fight. My personal trainer, Henderson, is helping me refine my technique and identify my weaknesses before my debut match, which also signifies the end for someone who pissed off the wrong people in The Lords Of Ash .
I’m not sure what the sad sack of shit did to deserve being placed in the ring with me, facing his demise at my hands, but I’m relieved it’s not me on the receiving end. Nonetheless, I find myself in the ring, preparing to deliver the punishment deemed fitting for his misdeeds. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts and bring myself back to the present moment, I focus all my attention on the man in front of me. I watch closely as Henderson steps forward, forcing me to sidestep his advances on my right, which leaves my left open for the jab he delivers in rapid succession. The air is momentarily knocked from my lungs, causing me to double over and giving him the advantage he needs to land a knee strike to my temple, leaving me temporarily immobile. “Guard yourself better, boy. You get so lost in that thick skull of yours that you forget where you are,” he taunts as I struggle to regain my composure, willing myself back from the brink of unconsciousness.
Blinking away the slight fog of stars that has clouded my mind, I push myself up from the mat to start again. “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure to have a clear mind in two weeks,” I grumble back at the old bastard.
He laughs at my sour mood and retreats to his corner again, waiting for me like a predator stalking its prey, slow and meticulously observing me to catch my mistakes before I even make them. Bastard.
“Hurry up, Tiny Tim! I have a date with a girl who is coming in to train with me as well. She has a fight scheduled for the same night as yours; hopefully, it’s not against you, because you’d be fucked. That little girl can pack a punch where it hurts.” He chuckles, as if he can envision the impending ass-whooping taking place right before him.
“Oh, I bet you only say that because she's a pretty girl, and you're usually surrounded by sweaty men and boys trying to figure out how to fight their way through a paper bag.” I shift my weight back and forth, swaying slightly to regain my fighting stance, mindful of the mistakes that had landed me on my ass just ten seconds ago.
“Nah, she's a true-born killer. You know the type that doesn't conceal their thirst for blood but embraces it.” He rambles on like a proud father, and I nearly gag. Softness looks weird on him; I've never seen him so animated with joy about someone coming in for his training.
“I’ll have to see this so-called true-born killer who has you so smitten. What time is her fight?” I tilt my head in his direction as he remains grounded, not rising to take up arms against me again.
“She is scheduled to fight before you, my boy, so you'll have the opportunity to witness a true fighter before going toe-to-toe with that treacherous bastard, Delvin.” He waves his hand dismissively, but now I’m slightly curious about the identity of this mysterious fighter. “I should also warn you that she is the new leader of that group that appeared recently. Hmm, what was their name again? Oh yes, The Valkyries.”
That captures my attention, and I quickly turn my gaze to him. "What's her name?”
“Now, my boy, even I wasn't blessed with that knowledge. But she goes by her call sign, Nightingale.” He says with a pout, his lips fuller than I have seen before, as he finally stands to join me on the mat to complete this training session.
“Nightingale? Hm. It's interesting to finally put a name to the leader of the Valkyries.” I let the words slip from my tongue and roll my shoulders to loosen up a bit more. “Now, enough about that. Let's get this training done; I don't want to end up with my head on the chopping block next.”
“Well, let’s see if you have what it takes to bring me to my knees, my boy.” He taunts me with a wink as he enters his fighting stance. We exchange blows, kicks, and takedowns, each move culminating in full submission. Before I realize it, my time is up, and I am sent home to conclude my day while Henderson prepares for his next training session.
I head to the showers at the back of the gym to wash the sweat and blood from my skin before heading home. The odor from my body would only seep into the fabric of my car seat, making the cleaning process more trouble than it is worth.
Feminine laughter from the front of the gym catches my attention before the door shuts, and I'm caught off guard by the beautiful woman wearing a mask to conceal her identity. Who is this woman? Her laugh seems familiar, like a childhood memory you can almost grasp at but can't quite remember the time it took place.
I go to step from the entrance of the showers when another sight makes me stop in my tracks – two men join her on either side like guard dogs, ready to rip anyone’s throat out at their master’s command. The one to her left looks like a lumberjack dressed in gym shorts and a black tank top that shows off his exquisite physique. While he is doing a sweep of the perimeter of the gym searching for a threat, our eyes meet for a brief second. He leans into the vixen beside him and whispers in her ear, making her body tense and the laughter cease. The one on her right looks around like a hunter, looking for the offending object that caused the swift mood change so he can destroy it swiftly and without remorse.
Before the mysterious man's eyes connect with mine, Henderson steps forward and extends his hand to the group, shaking hands with them and blocking my view of the woman and the man to her left, neither of whom seem to notice my presence. Once our eyes meet, he simply shakes his head 'no' at me, as if he can sense that I am contemplating introducing myself. I let out a frustrated huff, turn on my heels, and make a show of slamming the bathroom door behind me.
Walking into the dimly lit stalls, I opt to use the shower at the end of the room to clean off and I hear the door of the bathroom open just as I step into the cold water stark naked. As I am lathering up my skin, the light sound of heeled boots clack on the tiled floor heading in my direction. The noise abruptly stops, catching my attention as I wash the suds from my body, watching it swirl with blood down the drain. Lathering up the shampoo into my hair, I wait to see what will happen next with the visitor. Their soft breathing mixing with mine, and the shower running, are the only sounds in the room.
“Who's there?” I holler out but no answer comes, only a slight pause before the stall and then the footsteps retreating. I'm halfway rinsing the shampoo from my hair, trying to avoid it getting into my eyes and my heart is beating like a war drum in my ears.
I nearly stumble over my exposed self as I attempt to catch a glimpse of the stranger who has intruded on my private time, interrupting the intense session I had planned to relieve the frustration built up after training and my confrontation with that fucking infuriating man who seems to have been sent by the same gods that sent me Soren fucking Flint to torment my every waking moment. With a towel haphazardly slung around my hips, I burst into the now nearly empty gym through the bathroom door.
Henderson is packing up the gloves and wiping down the mats in the corner when he looks up, confused by my sudden outburst while I am nearly naked.
“What are you doing in your birthday suit, my boy?” His voice was soft, laced with a hint of amusement .
“Did you see who was in the bathroom with me?” I ask, propping my hand on my hip and looking at him as the cold air tickles my bare chest, causing my nipples to harden from the chill.
“Before the Nightingale left, she asked to use the bathroom. I didn't think you would mind the poor woman needing to relieve herself, and I warned her beforehand that you had headed that way for a shower. She assured me it wasn't an issue and that she'd be quick enough for you not even to notice she was there.” He says with a slight shrug of his shoulders as he continues his meticulous work of cleaning the mats, ensuring they are spotless enough to eat off of.
“Yeah, I just heard footsteps, and they left before I could see who it was. Where is the Nightingale, anyway? She just got here; I would think she’d still be here training for her fight.”I question the unease seeping into my words as I look to Henderson for an answer.
He sighs, exasperated by the conversation, as he rolls his eyes toward me. “The lady wasn't feeling well, so she said she would have to miss our training today, but she’ll be back on Friday before the fight to freshen up before entering the ring.”
“What a shame; I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous true-born killer you were ranting about hopefully, this doesn't cause an issue for her.” With that, I turn on my heels and enter the bathroom to get dressed so I can leave this gym and find something to get myself into to relieve this stress that's ebbing at my nerves. A folded note addressed to ‘Rad’ catches my attention as I reach my clothes. It sits perfectly on top. I slowly slide it open, and my breath catches in my lungs to its content