Page 18 of Love Me

“Basement, now.”

We hurry down the stairs to the gym. Once there, he reaches back, pulling his shirt off. We’re similar in height and shape, but he’s packed with more muscles. He rakes a hand through his black hair, his green eyes focused.

“This will hurt,” I say, stalking toward the boxing ring resting in the middle of the room. We shift from foot to foot, loosening our muscles, warming up.

“You wish.”

We spar for a while, circling each other. I find an opening and drive my fist into his chin, splitting it.

Rubbing his thumb over the wound, he watches the traces of blood. A faraway look furrows his brows. “That wasn’t nice of you, although girls do love battle scars.”

Then he cracks his neck and punches me straight in the solar plexus. The force of the hit propels me back, but I recover quickly, going at him. I am functioning on pent-up anger that won’t be stilled easily.

He ducks and avoids my fist, coming at me. We’re engaged in a violent dance. He elbows me in the ribs, stealing my air. I turn around and throw him with an uppercut on the mat, blood coating his teeth.

He spits the blood out. “That’s all you got?”

Then Blake pushes me off him and has me in a chokehold.

I slam my elbow into his ribs and get out from under him. An injured beast is roaring inside of me who can only be contained by fighting or I’ll bleed this world dry.

“You don’t fucking get it,” I snarl.

“I’m your best friend. Try me.”

“This rage… I can’t take it anymore, man.”

He plops down on his ass, his hands dangling over his knees.

“Celine’s stupid for coming back.”

All we want is to leave this place, and she came back willingly.

“She’s different.”

“What did you expect? That girl lived for you and you––”

“I did what I had to do.” And if I needed proof of what that did to her, I got it tonight. The fight leaves me. Everything seems irrelevant now that I lost her.

He shrugs. “Well, the way she looked at you, or better yet, didn’t look at you, tells me you’re her past.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Abigail. “Are you done being animals?”

“Not everyone is a Kyusho Jitsu expert like you. We actually like to use our fists,” Blake says.

“Yes, we’re done.”

“Celine has changed… we worked too hard…” She sighs, pursing her lips. Some people, like Abigail, appear ice on the outside while being soft underneath.

“You did great tonight,” she adds, looking at me with eyes full of understanding.

“Grandmother still doesn’t trust us.”

“In this family, trust is the greatest luxury. None of us can afford that,” Blake says, dropping on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling.

Abigail tilts her head, brows creased in deep thought. “She will be her eyes.”

I nod, and she adds, “You can’t trust her. And we came too far for her to ruin our only chance to escape.”

---