“Time to go.” I look up at Greg skeptically.

“I’m not going,” I reply, returning to my drink.

“You are going, and you will be on time,” Ron says, his voice making it clear he doesn’t want to argue. “Greg will drag you there if necessary.”

“I don’t need to go to a fucking gym. I am perfectly fine the way I am,” I complain. I have no desire to attend a gym filled with sweaty guys learning things I already know.

“Your fighting is shit. You can’t keep going off like a loose cannon,” Ron replies. “So you are going, that is final.”

I groan in protest. “This is bullshit …” I begin, my voice embarrassingly high-pitched. “Besides, you said so yourself, I’ve killed more people than the fucking guys here. I don’t need to go learn shit. I fight the way I need to, and it works for me.”

“One: you haven’t killed more than me, but good try, kid. Two: Didn’t keep you from getting kidnapped,” Jake said snarkily.

I look at him and growl, my body tensing, preparing to jump on him and claw his eyes out. I still owe him as far as I’m concerned.

Ron looks at us both sharply and I back down.

I have to admit, despite Jake being such a jackass, our fighting is turning into more of a sibling rivalry than actual arguing.

“Asshat,” I growl. “I did pretty well until I was tasered.” I cross my arms over my chest before looking at Ron. “And that can’t be avoided by training at a stupid gym.”

“Don’t care,” Ron replies and Greg puts a hand on my shoulder firmly. “You’re still going.”

“Fine, fine.” I shrug off Greg’s hand like the petulant child I’m being. “I’m going, I’m going. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No one said you did.” Ron looks at me, his eyes softening a little.

***

I stand just outside the door to the gym, a bag slung over my shoulder filled with a change of clothes. Greg is beside me, his arms folded over his chest. He looks like he’s waiting for me to make a run for it. He looks a lot less threatening in his gym shorts, but I still know he could outrun me without breaking a sweat.

“Time to go in.” Greg nudges me. “Don’t want to be late. Trust me.” I scowl in displeasure, opening the door with a huff.

“You must be Kella.” A man I assume to be Ze looks up from where he is going through some paperwork at a desk near the entrance. “You are just barely on time.” He looks me up and down, clearly not pleased with what he sees before speaking to Greg. “Rough around the edges was right. Last time you brought me someone broken. I can already tell this time … this time I’ll be doing the breaking.”

“Excuse you,” I interject, putting my hands on my hips. “You have no idea who I am, or what I’ve been through. If I am rough around the edges I’ve earned it.”

“Everyone has a choice,” Ze replies, setting his paperwork down on the desk and standing.

“Choices are a luxury where I’m from.” I look up at Greg frustrated. Ze only laughs.

“Whatever you say,” he replies with a shrug. “Go drop your bag off.” He points over to a door that has the cheesy traditional symbol of a white woman silhouette on a blue circle. Grabbing the strap of my bag, hoisting it over my shoulder, I storm off to the locker room muttering curses as I go.

“Let’s start off easy and get you on the treadmill,” Ze says, pointing to a nearby machine, once I’ve made my way back to him.

I step up to the big black machine unhappily. I do not need to be doing this, more importantly, I don’t want to do this, but I see Greg watching me out of the corner of his eye as he hits a punching bag.

Ze reaches over me and turns the treadmill on, starting me out at a fast walk. After a few minutes, he turns it up, sending me into a jog. I can feel my adrenaline kick in and I begin to take it seriously, not wanting to be outdone. I take up the challenge and run, trying to hide the fact that while I always considered myself somewhat athletic, I am clearly not in as good of shape as I thought I was. I put everything I have into not showing this is getting to me. I will not show weakness.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Ze says, resting his arms on the front of the treadmill.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumble, my breathing a little harder than I would like. Probably more than what is considered healthy.

“Yes, you do,” he replies with a small smile. “You are not what you think.” I look at him and snarl as I run. Something tells me he’s not just referring to my lack of stamina.

“You are holding the front handrail,” he begins. “And it monitors your heart rate.” He points to the treadmill’s screen. Looking at it, I see a small heart with a number next to it. “In case you are wondering, that’s a pretty high heart rate.” I glare at the flickering red heart symbol, miffed beyond words.

I jerk my hands off the rails, moving them to my side as I run. “I think that is a good warm-up.” Ze reaches over, adjusting knobs so the machine slows down for a minute or two before finally turning off.

I step off, leaning against the nearest wall. My legs feel like jelly.

“Not done yet.” Ze looks at me with a smirk. “We’ve only just begun. Time for floor work.” I groan as he points to a mat, on it are a few people doing sit-ups and pushups

I hit the mat hard after my last push up. My abs and arms burn, and I’m panting, again.

“You suck at pushups.” Ze laughs, squatting next to me, resting his chin on his hand.

“Shut up, jerk face.” I pant angrily, pushing myself up from the floor, it feels like my entire body is shaking.

“You’ll like the next part though.” Ze rises with me. “It’s time to hit the ring for some sparring.”

I give him an evil smile, now it’s my time to kick his ass for what he has been putting me through. I follow him into the ring, cracking my knuckles turning my head side to side hearing my neck crack.

“Don’t get cocky.” Ze casts me an equally evil grin. “I haven’t assessed your skill level yet. But I know a lot more about yours than you do about mine.”

I hear the shuffling of feet and see Greg leaning on one of the ropes at the edge of the ring with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’re in deep shit now, kid,” he says, his laughter almost cutting off the last word.

I flip him the bird before concentrating again on Ze. I give him a hard up and down look, trying to get a bit of an idea of his first move. I bounce foot to foot, my fists up, ready to attack.

Ze simply stands there watching me. Slowly he takes a defensive stance, but it’s subtle. His feet are shoulder width apart, his hands are raised, palms facing forward. His face remains unreadable.

Unable to hold back any longer, I rush Ze, aiming a kick at his crotch. I jump back hopping on one foot as the one I kicked him with aches from coming into contact with his thigh instead of my target. He deflected me like he was swatting away a fly.

“Not the brightest move. Too predictable,” Ze replies, tapping his thigh with his fist. Going for the balls won’t always work. Not every guy leaves themselves exposed to that attack. Besides,” he chuckles, “it’s a cheap move, you need to learn something original.”

I kick up with my foot, connecting with the underside of Ze’s chin but my momentum stops abruptly. I yelp as his hand grabs my ankle moving it until I am turned over staring at the floor, his other hand grabs at my calf, both supporting and immobilizing me. I hear some hoots and hollers and I know we are beginning to draw a crowd.

“Good move,” Ze says, but continues before I can enjoy the compliment. “But you left a huge opening by underestimating me and not pulling your ankle back fast enough. You have now been trapped and are unable to move. This means it’s my chance to attack.”

I stumble forward as he pushes my leg away from him. I quickly compose myself returning to stand facing an irritatingly calm Ze.

“What else have you got?” He looks at me, his arms folded across his chest, lowering his defenses. I take the opportunity to run at him, sliding along the floor sweeping my leg against his to knock him to the ground. He hits the mat flat on his back and I see him exhale as the wind is knocked out of him. I take his moment of surprise to jump on him, sitting on his chest to pin him. I grab his wrists, putting all my weight on them against the floor. Ze only smiles before wrapping his legs around my stomach, using the leverage of my body weight to push me down to the floor, reversing our position. I cough as all the air leaves my lungs. Before I can blink, Ze is leaning over me, his knees on either side of me pinning me.

“Rule number one,” he whispers in my ear. “Don’t ever assume because you’re on top, you’re in control of the situation.” I growl at him as people on the sidelines begin to clap for their trainer. “Since you’re down there,” Ze looks at me seriously, “and not going anywhere, start talking.”

“That’s none of your damn business,” I spit out, bringing my knee up between his legs, using all the strength in my body to attempt to throw him over my head. We spiral over, as he once again lands under me. This time I set my legs on either side of his hips, putting all of my weight on him. I hear him tsk, shaking his head.

“You are still trying to pin someone bigger, stronger, and heavier than you.” He sighs rolling over, taking me with him with a yelp. The crowd ooh’s and laughs as my head hits the floor, returning me to where I was thirty seconds ago. “Now where were we?” he asks smugly, “Oh yeah, you were going to tell me your story.”

“Not going to happen,” I grit out through my teeth, my legs kicking out in an attempt to get free.

“Just admit defeat, you are pinned,” Ze responds. “You want to get up, you need to give me what I want. What happened while you were kidnapped?”

“Again,” I give him an icy glare, “none of your damn business.” As a last resort, I take advantage of how close Ze is to me. Closing my eyes I ram my forehead into his as hard as I can, my skull colliding with his. He grunts, falling to the side as I lie there seeing stars.

Dizzy, I stand up, wobbling as I make my way out of the ring. The group begins to part and I feel a hand wrap around my shoulder. I shrug it off angrily, stumbling my way to the locker room.

“Who said you were done?” I hear Ze say.

“I did,” I growl over my shoulder. I look at him standing in the ring already, of course he’s fucking recovered from the hit so quickly. “I didn’t sign up for this shit.” I enter the locker room leaning against the door. Once away from watching eyes, I let the tears flow while I head for the showers.