8. Chapter 8 - Layrin
Chapter 8
W hen we talked about Roux training me, I knew it wasn't going to be easy. He wouldn't take it easy on me, and while I wasn’t completely out of shape, I was nowhere near capable of what he was showing me on my first day.
“What the hell have you been doing all your life? Sitting on your ass!?”
Gritting my teeth, I cursed him for the five hundredth time, promising myself that if I ever caught my breath again, I would murder this man. I would wait until his back was turned, then I would stab him. I would stab him so good. The visceral idea of stabbing him, hearing him cry out in a fraction of the pain I was feeling, was the only way I was making it though my twentieth lap around the open-concept gym.
This was only day one, and he was already talking about how I needed to gain not only endurance but be able to fight through the fatigue. How the hell was I going to make it through this week?
“After you’re done with twenty-five laps, we’ll switch from endurance to stamina with weights and high rep counts and little to no down time. Let's go! Let’s go!” He clapped after me, and I turned and growled at him.
The smile on his face was the biggest and brightest I had ever seen. You would think he’d just won the lottery with that stupid pretty face.
As soon as I finished the laps, I collapsed on the ground. My stomach clenched as I tried not to heave. He threw down a water bottle, and I grabbed it like I was in the desert and hadn’t seen water in days.
“Don’t drink it too fast,” he barked before turning away from me to set up some weights. I threw my shirt over my head since it was soaked in sweat and fantasized about more inventive ways to murder him.
Keeping my back turned away from him, I nursed my water, really not wanting to throw up. In the mirror across from me, I snuck a few peeks at what he was setting up until his gaze shifted toward me. For a second, his eyes went wide, his jaw slack. I was so furious I almost turned around to yell at him when I realized I only had my sports bra on. Oh shit, he can see my scar. Should I put that sweaty shirt back on? I really didn’t want to.
He gave me far too short of a time to decide or recuperate before I was called over to the weights he had set up with a deeper frown marring his face. My leg muscles throbbed with each shaky step, and the knowledge that I probably looked like an old woman crossing the street only intensified my glare. I expected him to mention the scar on my back, but he didn't. He acted like he had seen nothing, so I let it go too.
“Quit giving me those seductive eyes and get that sweet ass over here. We’re going to do high-weight and isometric exercises until you fall on your ass in front of me.” He gave me a wolfish smile, like he was thoroughly enjoying himself, and I finally realized what he wanted. He wanted me to hate him. He wanted me to fail. He was hoping I would try to quit.
Rage filled my veins, fueling my muscles with a renewed vigor. I stood up straight, chin held high, and made my way over to him. I threw myself into his stupid training, reminding myself that I was going to prove him wrong. I was going to shove it in his face, and I did.
I kept it up, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble like he was hoping for. When he finally looked at his watch and growled that we were done, I collapsed onto the floor like I’d been held up by strings. All I could do was laugh. I did it. I fucking did it, and I don’t know how . I laughed and laughed like a crazy person while he stood above me, forehead wrinkled and a thin line across his mouth. I was sure he was either horrifyingly amazed or exponentially pissed off that I had made it through his grueling day or horror.
Even with him standing over me with his intimidating stance, I was so fatigued that I couldn't get up even when he told me to. Eventually, he had to carry me into the car then into the house. I giggled at him the whole way, my body being so weak I was growing delirious.
The second I was set on the couch, Ravi was on me, and he was pissed . He hovered over me, asking me if I needed anything in between hurling every curse word in his arsenal at his brother.
Rion stared at me for a second before a small smirk graced his lips. It only lasted a second, but I caught it. He was proud of me. Then he turned his icy stare on Roux and told him that I was going to need to take it slow tomorrow to heal up. He even went so far as to lecture Roux about time being of the essence and not to prioritize “pissing matches” over my well-being.
We had a relatively quiet dinner. I focused on my food like a ravenous beast, Ravi sent laser eyes at Roux the entire time, and Roux was busy glaring back at Ravi. Eventually, his eyes fell on me. I could be mistaken, but for a flash of a second, his gaze held respect. As soon as we were done, I was claimed by Rion, who said he had a surprise for me.
It seemed easy enough to follow him, but when I got up, my muscles groaning at me, I knew waking up tomorrow was going to be a new form of torture. Shuffling my feet, I followed him to the downstairs office. He opened the door, and I found the whole room had been transformed into a bedroom.
“Since you still don’t feel comfortable sleeping in any of our rooms…” His mouth grew tight before he continued. “I refuse to let you sleep on the couch any longer, so we made up a room for you.”
Taking a step past him, I looked around the space. It had all the normal things: a dresser, nightstand, vanity, and some floating shelves. Everything was modern and fresh, like it had just come out of the box. The color scheme was deep blacks and mahogany browns with a pop of gray here and there. It gave the whole room a luxurious feel.
This room was nicer than theirs; hell, it was nicer than any room I’d ever been in. I didn't know what to say. I half-expected Rion to tell me to pick one of their rooms tonight, not giving me the option of my own.
“Thank you,” I whispered, unable to look away from the room.
Someone huffed behind me, but I ignored it, knowing it was Roux. Opening one of the drawers, I saw they had already moved everything I had into this room. It was a lovely gesture, but it was all… too much.
I had turned around to say just that when Ravi stepped forward.
“You know the bathroom is across the hallway,” Ravi responded in an abnormally high pitch. “I filled it with some toiletries that you might need. You're going to be with us for a while, and I wanted to make it comfortable for you. Just tell me if you need anything else.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, giving me a meek, hesitant smile that was unlike him.
Nodding back to him, I gave him all of my attention as I said, “Thank you, Ravi,” then it was Rion’s turn, “Thank you, Rion.” Finally, I turned to the grump in the back and heaved out, “Thanks, Roux.”
Rion nodded, grabbing the door handle as he said, “Good night, Rin. We’ll see you in the morning.” Ravi waved at me like I was going on a trip, while his brother walked away. I went to the door, and I was just about to lock it behind them when I heard Ravi whine.
“This is the sweetest kind of torture. Why does she have to be so close yet so far?”
Rion hissed back, “Quiet. Just wait. It's all about timing.”
Roux’s deep rumble sounded after. “Sure, for us, but for her, it's trust.”
“Trust will only be built over time, and the seed has already been planted,” Rion replied. “We just need her to see, to prove to her, that we will never waver, never leave. We are bound together in this life no matter what it throws at us, and she will never be alone again.”
Resting my head against the door, hearing their whispers grow more faint, I knew he was right. He knew me, but did I know him?
Shaking my head, I opened my phone and called Cin. The first words out of her mouth were that she would rather burn the whole city down to find me than let Ambros keep us from being friends. I definitely didn’t want that, so I told her I wouldn't let him. We made plans to talk every night, to which she demanded visual confirmation since she wouldn't put it past Ambros to come up with a computerized voice to trick her.
And that was how my night ended, with Cin threatening to burn, torture, and murder people just to keep me in her life.
I hated to admit it, but… these crazy people were starting to grow on me.
After that first training session, Roux seemed to take a different approach. Sure, he still yelled at me like a drill sergeant, and I still raged at him like he was the thorn in my side, but the actual training wasn't as bone melting as the first day. We now had a schedule of what we were doing on each day, we had proper breaks, and he had me on a high-protein diet. The best part came about halfway through the month when he informed me that it was time for fight and defense training.
I was thrilled to be able to put these muscles I’d been building to actual use.
Ever since I got here, I’d been leaning on the guys and others for protection, and while it was a nice change to my overly cautious, always-looking-out-for-myself attitude, I had felt helpless when I found out the truth. Helpless that those I trusted and counted on couldn't be that shield anymore.
It was nice that the guys wanted to protect me, but I had this want, this urge, to be able to do it myself. Making sure that if I didn't have anyone by my side, I could do something on my own, rescue myself if the situation ever called for it. I knew it would take years and years to get to their level, but I still wanted to be able to defend myself in certain situations.
I also didn't know what kind of life I was going to lead after this “test,” but with how the boys acted and what they’d said… It sounded like I was really going to need to know these skills and handle myself.
We came up to the gym’s back door. When I spoke aloud my name, the first light on the door turned green, then I put my eye near the camera next. A second beep sounded as the next green light popped up. I placed my hand on the handle, bracing myself for the pinprick, then the third beep and green light came. The handle went down on its own, and as soon as the door opened, Roux issued his orders. “Sit in the center of the mat and start to stretch.”
The door slammed shut, forcing Roux to go through the same steps to get in. It was annoying, but I guessed that was the kind of high-tech, triple-checking systems that Foedus depended on. When I asked him what would happen if we went in at the same time, his eyes widened and he shook his head, saying it wasn't worth the extra ten minutes.
Throwing my bag in the corner, I noticed that all of the equipment had been moved to one side of the room and more padding had been added to the floor. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, making my limbs involuntarily shake as I thought about today. I was sure he was only going to teach me the basics, but I was ready.
Plopping myself down, I started to stretch. Not long after, I heard the door open then the familiar slamming of his bag next to mine. Over the course of these two weeks, Roux and I had gotten into a groove with each other.
The first few days were silent, other than him barking out orders and me resenting him with all of my being. Then he started barking less and instructing more. It was still in a stern, grumpy manner, but the bite to his words had disappeared. It made me listen more and ask questions when I had them.
The second week, we had nailed down our routine of waking up at the same time, eating the same things, with me complaining about it nonetheless, then heading off to the gym. I didn’t know when it truly started, but there was an ease between us now.
I learned that he knew a lot about the human body, like doctor level knowleage. If I told him something hurt, he could figure out if it was a muscle or a nerve. Just by looking at me, he could tell if something was about to go wrong or if I was using the wrong muscle. Somehow, he was able to figure out things about my body that I wasn't even voicing. It was amazing and impressive.
Our interactions used to always be on, ready to fight, but now they were more, dare I say, playful. The burning fire was still there, but it didn’t scorch the skin… or maybe I had gotten so used to the fire that it didn't hurt? Either way, working out and being around him wasn't the worst thing in the world. In fact, I kinda enjoyed it.
“Did the door take your soul this time?” I looked up at his normal frown as he came my way.
“Almost,” he grumbled, and I rolled my lips into my mouth to keep from smiling.
“Bend further.” He walked up behind me, his fingers surprisingly gentle when he pushed on the center of my back. “Keep your back straight but bring your chest down to the ground as close as you can.”
I went down a whole inch further, the stretch in my thighs burning just as much as the hands on my back scorched me. It took all of my might to stop wishing they would move up and under. Flashes of us in the stairwell crossed my mind, and I gasped.
“What's wrong?” He covered up his worried voice by following it up with a rough, meaner one. “Damn it, Rin. I told you to let me know if I was pushing you too far!”
He yanked his hands away, and I took a deep breath, trying to keep the panting out of my voice. “Nope. It wasn't too far. I just thought about…” Think, Layrin, think! An excuse, any excuse!
“The end-of-year project!” I winced, knowing it had come out a little too loud and fast. He eyed me like he didn't believe me, so I doubled down on my stupidity.
“How am I going to be able to work with Elio when we have all this training and the test to worry about?” That was apparently the wrong thing to bring up because he quickly came around and got in my face.
“Don’t fucking worry about that fucktard Irish-Italian. He is of no concern to you anymore. Got it?”
His whole face was red, his muscles bunched up like he wanted to punch something. What the hell? “What's wrong with Elio? I thought he and Cin were on our side?”
He abruptly stood up and stalked off, leaving me open mouthed and shocked. I was scrambling to get up, wanting to talk out whatever the hell was up his ass, when he stomped back again. “Let's get to work. Stand with your legs open.”
Keeping my mouth shut, I did as he asked. He wanted to move on from his tantrum? Fine.
He tweaked my stance, keeping it very professional, while I, on the other hand, was having a hard time. I kept telling myself to stop, reminding myself that I didn't trust the brothers enough to take it there again, but my damn body and brain were working against me. I almost rubbed my thighs together as I watched him carefully wrap my hands in preparation of working the punching bag.
I was finally able to focus once he saw that I’d gotten the stance and movements correct. Thankfully, after that, he didn't have to stand behind me and touch me so much.
We worked on the punching bag for a bit to get a rhythm going, and I was starting to have fun. I liked punching and smashing into things with my fists. It made me feel powerful, like I was in control, and it was exhilarating. I could tell Roux was having a good time too. Every once in a while, when he left me alone and worked alongside me on his own punching bag, he would get this wide smile. It never wavered despite the flurry of punches he rained down on the bag.
Being so lost in what we were doing, I didn't hear the door open. Most days, no one else came in. I had a suspicion that the boys had warned others off from crashing our time here.
“Now, Roux, you know that wasn't how I taught you.”
That familiar slimy, highbrow voice felt like I was in a dentist’s chair getting my teeth drilled. It carried across the room to us, and Roux and I stopped. It was my first instinct to turn to Roux, wanting to ask how I should react, but he was standing there like a deer caught in headlights.
The urge to comfort him, to touch his arm and tell him everything would be okay, came on hard and strong, but I held it in, knowing I shouldn't do that in front of their uncle. With the way the three of them talked about their uncle, they hated him with a passion.
“When I arranged for the girl to be trained by you, I thought she was going to get the best training money could buy, but watching you now, I see you're treating her with kid gloves.” He came forward like he owned the place even though, in his suit and dress shoes, hair slicked back, he seemed utterly out of place. His hands rested behind his back, and his crystal gaze slinked around like he was disgusted.
He tutted. “Now, this just won’t do. The girl is representing the Ambros family, after all.”
Roux grabbed my arm and roughly yanked me back to the center of the mat, all while whispering to me, “Pretend as best you can.”
I didn't know what that meant until he threw me across the mat and lunged at me. I quickly dodged his first punch, reminding myself that this was what the damn endurance training was about. I looked at Roux, confused when he glared at me, circling like a tiger about to pounce on a rabbit.
“What the fuck?” I growled under my breath before he lunged for me again. This time, I spun away from him and moved to strike, but he tackled me to the ground with a loud thud.
Gasping for air, I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he was just so strong I couldn’t find a way out. Panic started to settle in, and he lifted up just a bit, looking down at me with a face full of sorrow and regret. “When I punch, go down hard. Cry out loud.”
He moved his leg, and I was able to get out from under him. He popped up with superhuman speed and lunged for me again. I barely escaped his fingers, knowing it wouldn’t happen twice.
Stalking toward me like the Grim Reaper, I looked over his shoulder. His uncle was watching with malicious zeal. This was what he wanted. He wanted me to be afraid, to be beaten down… and he liked it.
I was sick to my stomach after getting just a micro taste of what it was like to be under their uncle’s command. He would’ve savored his control, the pain he’d caused threefold for years, ever since they were ten. My heart broke for the boys I had known, ones that I cared deeply for, and the men they were now, still scarred by this experience. Now their hesitation to train me made sense.
Noticing Roux’s now pained expression, I prepared myself as his fist cocked back. This wasn't his fault. He wasn't hitting me and telling me to go down to humiliate me. He wanted to save me from his uncle.
As soon as Roux’s fist grazed my stomach, I jumped back a step. My face contorted in pain, I fell backward hard, crying out like I’d never faced a worse injury. While the tears were real, the pain was only a fraction of what my heart was feeling, all because of this asshole.
Lying on the ground, I made sure to “weep“ loudly enough for the man across the room to hear. Roux was standing over me, breathing hard like he had really put his all into that punch, which we both knew he didn’t.
A ring of applause came out as that sick man cooed, “Well done, Roux.”
His voice got louder, making sure I heard him over my cries. “Now, that is what is expected out of you, girl. Wipe your tears and do it again. Weakness will not be tolerated in Foedus.” The clicking of his shoes sounded against the concrete in the hallway as he left, his laughter echoed in the hallway.
My fists clenched on the mat. I hated that man. I hated that man more than anything else in this world, and that was saying something.
As soon as the door shut, Roux fell to his knees next to me, his head hung and shoulders slumped. His raw voice came out, whispering, “I’m so sorry, Rin.” The pain in his soft words rocked me like an earthquake. Normally, he was loud, rough, and angry, but this time, he sounded small, weak, and broken.
Wiping my tears, I got up, and without thinking my hands circled around his slumped form as I told him it was okay, that I was fine. He’d barely hit me. He shook his head, mumbling that he hated his uncle, that he hated himself for doing that, and he couldn’t stand to look me in the eyes.
Lifting his head with my hands cupping his cheeks, I made him look at me. While he wasn't crying, I could see the glassy eyes of a man who never let himself cry but still carried the pain. “You helped me. You saved me. If we really had to fight, you know that you would wipe the floor with me, but you coached me on how to get through it.”
Taking one of his hands and placing it on my stomach, I knew I needed to be completely honest with him. “While you did hit me, technically…” He winced, eyes going to the floor. “It didn't hurt that much. In fact, I think it's because of all our training these past two weeks that I was able to take it.”
I smiled widely. “I might be a little sore, but I’m good. Look.” I lifted my shirt, showing him it was only red. It wasn't black and blue, like it should’ve been. “I'm okay… because of you .”
He took in a ragged breath and looked up. When his eyes found mine, his lips parted. I glanced at those lips, wanting to press up against them, to feel them take over mine as we rolled around on the mat, to take away the pain. Making it so the outside world couldn’t affect us right now.
His shaky hand came up, cupping my jaw as his thumb lightly caressed my cheek. He leaned his head forward until I actually thought he was going to do it and I was going to let him.
That was until his phone rang. We froze like someone had walked in on us. It took two seconds for his face to fall and his normal grumpiness to take back over as he got up and stalked to his bag. He yanked his phone out and barked, “What?!”
I stayed in my spot, not daring to move. Once I did, the moment would be over. I’d have to say goodbye to the moment where me and Mr. Grumps finally clicked, connected.
That was short lived because he motioned for me to come over. I scrambled up, and he pointed to my bag as he grabbed his. “Yeah, he was here.” He was quiet for a second before he growled, “Because I fucking took care of it.” He motioned for me to follow, and I did, just like a little puppy with its master.
“Yeah, yeah. We’re coming the fuck home. We’ve had enough today.” He shoved his phone into his pocket, and we walked out the door, not saying a word about what had happened between us. Even in the car, we were quiet. He turned up the music, making it known that he didn’t want to talk about it, which pissed me off.
Fucking fine. I didn’t need to talk about it either. I didn’t need that kind of complication in my life. Nope. No. I’d already had sex with him, and that was enough for me. Who cared if we had a moment? He’d lied and manipulated me, and I was using him to survive. That was it.
The moment was dead and gone, and in the end, it meant nothing. At least that's what I told myself.