Page 14 of Shadowman
Joy and I bonded right away when I got here. I don’t know that it’s just because we’re both Korean, but that didn’t hurt. We also have similar backgrounds, though her family loves and supports her, and mine is… well, the opposite of that. Butbecause of our heritage, we have things in common that I’m not sure anyone else here would fully understand. That, and we’ve both been super into Tae Kwon Do since we were kids.
We’re even close in age. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that if she’d grown up in New York rather than Boston, Joy Jameson definitely would’ve been my girlfriend.
Or, at the very least, she would’ve been someone I devoted myattentionto.
Once in the basement rec room, we all scatter about, heading for our respective areas. Luthor and Ren grab the basketball, yelling at O’Malley, who’s more interested in the rickety old set of dumbbells, tostop fucking aroundand join them.
But Joy and I have our own routine. We’re immediately wrapping our knuckles and feet, getting ready to spar. The only problem is that I’m highly aware of the cellphone hidden in my pants.I won’t be able to fight with it in there.
Waiting for Joy to turn around, I quickly stuff it in between a stack of old mats no one uses.
“Come on,jeonsa!” she calls to me, and I jaunt over, putting the phone out of my mind for now. “Let’s dance!”
I’ve gotta say, Ilovethis. Still, every time I practice Tae Kwon Do, in any form—even just fucking around with Joy—it feels like home. I feel centered,calm. I can block out all the bullshit of a prison sentence I still struggle with every day, though I pretend not to, and just move.
Breathe. Advance. Swing, left, swing right. Kick.
“That’s excellent! Look at you go!”I hear the familiar voice of my grandfather in my brain, his deep voice sounding almost regal with the accent.“You’ll be Master material, yet. My grandson, the warrior.”
In his hayday, my grandfather studied Tae Kwon Do under one of the most famous Grandmasters in the world. When I was coming up, a confused pre-teen, raging inside and searching foran outlet, it was him who got me into a program. And he stuck by me the whole time. Unlike my father…
Rafe Byron Jr. was my mother’s father, and he was my favorite person in the world. Born and raised in London, his work as a very successful journalist brought him to New York, where he spent the remaining years of his life. When I was two, he got sick, and my family moved from South Korea to be closer to him.
Rafe battled cancer for years. He was a tough son of a bitch, and I’m a hundred percent certain thathemade me the man I am today—flaws,secrets, and all.
I used to call him Master Splinter—like fromTeenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Sure, he didn’t teach me Tae Kwon Do, but he wasmymaster. Caring and patient, smart and cunning. He was an all-out awesome fucking guy, and he raised my mother to be the same way. Which is why I’ll never understand how she chose someone like my father to marry.
“Headstrong isn’t a very good quality,adeul,”my father said to me, shortly after Grandfather died.“When you are difficult, you are a project… You will not find a career or a wife behaving this way.”
Yea.Great way to encourage a boy on the cusp of becoming a man, grieving over the loss of the only supportive person in his life while struggling to figure himself out.
No wonder I spent so much of my life after that lurking in the shadows…
“Come at me, bro!” Joy huffs, out of breath, because I’ve been playing her defensively. Wearing her out.It’s a tactic of mine.
She launches a few more hits at my face, and I block every single one. We’ve been going at this for a bit, and I can tell she’s getting tired. That’s when I make my move.
Kick, kick, jab jab jab, then spin and wham! Kick to the head!
And she’s down!
Of course, we’re not beating the shit out of each other or anything. It’s not about that. But we also agreed when we started doing this to never hold back. It’s not in either of our natures.
Once she’s on the ground, I pin her down, breathing heavily with a triumphant grin on my lips. I’m man enough to admit she beats me more than I beat her. But that just makes moments like these all the more satisfying.
“Iwin,jagiya,” I murmur, hovering over her.
We’re both panting, chests jumping up and down, exposed skin flushed and a little sweaty. It becomes painfully obvious in a split second that my dick is jamming into her, and not that it’s rock solid or anything, but it’s certainlyalive.
Joy’s pupils dilate, and she licks her lip, glancing across the room at the guys, who are still messing around with their own activities. “Get off me, inmate.”
Her raspy little growl gives my dick a stir. I lean in closer. “Or what?”
She arches up. “Meet me around the corner in two minutes.”
That’s all I needed to hear.
Rolling off of her, I watch as she hops to her feet, removing the tape while skipping toward the locker room off the main area. I sit up, head spinning, checking on the guys myself.
