Page 109 of Retaliation

“As long as you don’t kill me this time,” she shot back, her tone just as sharp.

His eyes bore into hers. “No weapons. We’ll start with basics.”

He moved to the center of the mat, his stance ready. She followed, her body tense, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“First, show me your stance,” he commanded.

She positioned herself, trying to ignore the throbbing in her arm. He circled her, his gaze critical.

“You’re off-balance,” he said, kicking her leg slightly to adjust her position.

The moment she steadied herself, he attacked, moving with lightning speed. She barely had time to react, blocking his punch with her good arm. The impact sent a shockwave through her body, but she held her ground.

“Good,” he muttered. “Again.”

He came at her relentlessly, his strikes precise and powerful. She dodged and blocked, her muscles screaming in protest. Sweat dripped down her face, but she refused to back down.

His fist grazed her ribs, and she winced, but she didn’t retreat. She countered with a swift kick, catching him off guard. He stumbled back, and a flash of pride surged through her.

“Don’t get cocky,” he growled, his eyes narrowing.

He lunged at her, sweeping her legs out from under her. She hit the mat hard; the breath knocked out of her.

Before she could recover, he pulled her up. “Never hesitate,” he hissed, his face inches from hers. “Hesitation will get you killed.”

So this was how it was going to be – all business—no room for emotions.

“Focus,” he commanded, his voice a whip crack.

He attacked again, and they fell into a brutal rhythm, each strike and counterstrike a dance of survival.

Hours blurred together. Pain became a constant companion, but so did determination. She pushed through, her anger fueling her movements. She wouldn’t let Scorpion break her. She couldn’t.

At about one in the morning, he finally called a halt. He was breathing hard, sweat glistening on his skin.

Without a word, he led her to the bike and drove them home, the ride too silent.

He dropped her off, his expression unreadable. “Tomorrow, same time,” he said. “I have a job to do, so I’ll pick you up at six.”

He handed her the key to his factory and drove away without saying goodnight.

She stood there, watching him disappear into the night. Exhausted, sore, and angry, she felt a flicker of something else – respect. Scorpion’s methods were harsh, but she knew he was pushing her because he believed in her.

She walked inside, her body aching but her determination unbroken. Tomorrow, she would train harder. She would become stronger. And when the time came, she would face Reaper and finally retaliation would prevail.

THIRTY EIGHT

For the next two weeks, their routine stayed the same. Poison and Scorpion barely spoke except when he was instructing her. He had become her trainer, her drill sergeant, and nothing more. Every night from six until one, they trained in his boss’s gym. Her body ached constantly, every muscle screaming in protest, but Scorpion never held back, pushing her to her limits.

A week ago, she had moved out of his loft and returned to work. She had hoped that the distance would make him miss her, make him actually talk to her but it did nothing. It didn’t even lessen the intensity of their training sessions. Each night, she arrived at the gym, already exhausted from the day, and faced Scorpion’s relentless regimen. The once comforting silence between them had turned into a heavy, oppressive weight.

The two weeks were a blur of unrelenting training. Scorpion was a different man now—cold, distant, and solely focused on preparing her for her match against Reaper.

Every training session flipped through her mind like changing the channel on a TV.

Scorpion had stood before her, his eyes hard and unyielding. “We start with endurance,” he had said, pointing to the treadmill.

She had run until her legs felt like jelly, Scorpion’s gaze never leaving her.

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