4. Chapter 4 #2
Kate’s growling has shifted from low annoyance to a warning.
I’m trying to ignore it, to avoid problems associated with letting the most violent part of my psyche out to play, so I push harder.
Exhaling heavy puffs of air, I then suck in sharper ones through my nose as her cold-crazy eyes rake up my spine.
She’s watching, angry, disturbed, and seconds away from hauling me off of this machine and dragging me away with her bony hand wound tight in my hair. Not if I run harder, farther, with more determination to escape her soul-crushing hold.
Ding!
“So help me God!”
I slam my palm on the emergency stop, its moving parts slow to a crawl, but I don’t wait for stillness.
Snatching my phone out of the cup holder, I swipe a sweaty finger across the screen.
I know who it is without looking. If I didn’t have the damn thing on Do Not Disturb, I have no doubt it would scream the tornado siren I assigned to his contact years ago.
Me
Stop messaging me! I’m busy.
Elias
No, you’ve been on long enough. Get off.
Me
At no point in time did I ask for your opinion. If I need to consult with a stalker, I’ll let you know.
“You’ll let me know? I bet the idea of cooperating gives you hives.”
Twisting around, the wet ends of my hair smack me in the face, sticking in more sweat. This motherfucker could beat Bigfoot at his own damn game with how silent he is—coming out of nowhere like some phantom of doom.
“Of course you’re here. Should have known you’d be eying me through your DefCon 15 sniper rifle X-ray scope.”
“It’s called a Vortex, Sunshine. Though, I do like the effort you went through with that mouthful.” Elias smirks, standing with his hands tucked into his pockets.
“I…you know what, go to hell.” Stepping off of the elliptical, gravity nearly takes me home but I catch myself on a handlebar.
“Looks like I’ll be following, if you’re headed there now.”
His snort sends me into the stratosphere. Blood and heat fill my cheeks in a way that may be misinterpreted as embarrassment, but it’s rage, and the asshole knows it.
“Listen here, you smug, desert digging, gunpowder snorting fucker. Don’t you have some war criminal to fantasize over, instead of bothering me with…“ My words trail off when I see him smirking. He’s waiting for the next half of my tirade, as if it’s his favorite treat coming down an assembly line.
“With what, Sunshine? Why don’t you tell me what I should be doing, instead of wagging your sharp tongue at me like a whip,” he dishes back, crossing his bulky arms over his chest.
If there was ever a day to question if I’m normal or not, it’s today. Right now, to be exact. I want to simultaneously disembowel him and feel him beneath me. You know what? Let’s have a go at it and tussle.
“Should put your money where your mouth is. If you’re going to spend all your time stalking me the least you can do is be a sparring partner.”
“Now you’re talking.” Stepping forward, he grabs me by my bicep and pulls. I spin on him, snapping my teeth like a wild animal.
Chomp, chomp, I’ll rip out your artery!
“Let me go! What’s wrong with you? You don’t grab people like that!” Sweeping my hand up, I slap at his—the loud smack is clear and sharp in the vacant gym.
“Harder next time, I might actually feel it.” Elias yanks me forward, as my heels dig into the raw concrete on terror-filled instinct. I’ll be a monkey's uncle if I ever let another man lead me to the slaughter again.
Reaching out, I return the favor and grip his much larger bicep. Unlucky for him, I’ve learned a little about anatomy in college and know where to deliver maximum pain. Finding the exact spot I need, I dig every bit of my first set of knuckles between the muscle and his tricep.
Elias sneers as he shoves me onto the sparring mat. I twist around to face him, my feet immediately finding their anchor points before he can consider closing the distance. His intense green stare meets my feral blue eyes, both of us prepared to fight for first blood if he makes one wrong move.
Facing me, his right hand is the first to move. Hastily, I slap it away.
“Don’t.”
“How are you going to spar if you won’t get into a fighting stance?
You’re unbalanced. One shove and you’d fall on your ass.
Your hands are too low, which I was trying to correct—they should be protecting that pretty face.
If you’re going to spar, you need to take this shit seriously, Sadie.
This isn’t a pillow fight at your girlfriend’s house.
This could save your life from another abduction. ”
Now I’m embarrassed. I’ll be honest, I don’t know anything about fighting, so forgive me.
Kate usually performs all of the violence anyway.
In the back seat I watch in horror as she obliterates my hurdles, only to let me out once the smoke has settled.
Is it healthy, mentally retreating for unadulterated hatred to reign unchecked?
Hardly, but it works. She saves the little girl inside who’s still afraid of the dark.
Elias must see the moment where I transition from annoyed and guarded to embarrassed because he’s on me in the blink of an eye. His rough hands grab both elbows and lift my arms to position my hands, then he grabs my hips and kicks the inside of my feet.
“Feet shoulder width apart, non-dominant foot forward.” He checks my hand placement again and praises.
“There we go, good girl. Non-dominant up front. Use it for short concise strikes to stun your opponent. It will also protect the side of your head. You’re right, goes down by your jaw, it’s for strikes with the most momentum.” Tapping my right elbow a little harder, my hand lifts higher.
“That’s better. Close your fists now. Do not put your thumb behind your forefingers or on the side, that’s how you’ll break it.
Lay…” He pauses, adjusting my grip. “Just like that, over your fingers. Now, when you punch, you follow through and hit with all four knuckles. Not the first two, or the last two, ‘cause they’ll break.”
“Seems like everything will break if I hit someone.” I huff at his continued concern for the durability of my phalanges.
“Yeah, but if you’re going to fuck it up, fuck it up violently.”
Elias steps behind me and grabs both fists.
When he does, his wide chest presses to my shoulder blades.
The five o’clock shadow he’s sporting tangles with the strands of hair that have yet to fall from my hair tie, but we both look ahead—focusing on everything and nothing at once.
Then he leads me through a series of slow punches, explaining each and what they are most useful for.
For a moment I feel vulnerable, surrounded by a man who has all the power in the world to hurt me. But the moment he releases and stands just a few feet away, hesitation and worry drains from my body. Then I rear back and swing, punching him in his stupid smirking mouth.