by S. Ferguson
“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.
34
Ron
When the front door op
ens and slams shut loudly, I look up from talking to Declan. I see an obviously frustrated Kella, storm in, Greg is hot on her heels. She’s gotta have some kind of rage to slam the heavy main door of Keegan’s.
“What has your panties in a bunch?” Jake taunts her.
Kella just walks right past him, ignoring his jab, making her way toward the kitchen and I am assuming her room. Greg pauses at the counter tapping it lightly, wordlessly asking for a drink. Declan fills a glass with Greg’s favorite, sliding it down the counter toward him. Greg snatches it up from the counter taking a sip.
“How’d it go?” I ask him. Greg simply laughs.
“It was a fucking train wreck.” He shakes his head with a chuckle taking another drink of his liquor.
“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, almost afraid to hear the rest.
“She seemed to be doing okay with the basic workout portion,” he begins. “Treadmill, sit-ups, pushups, stretches, and that shit. But then he took her into the ring. Then all hell broke loose.” He recounts to me the events of the match between Kella and Ze, how Ze attempted to begin a conversation which hit a raw nerve with Kella. Culminating with Kella storming out of the gym. “Ze let her go, but it’s going to take a bit of coaxing to get her back.” He sighs. “Ze admitted that he pressed a little too early, but he underestimated her stubbornness.” He pauses, finishing his drink, setting the glass down on the bar. Declan immediately comes up, filling it again.
I raise a hand at him and Declan pours me a scotch too.
“Well.” I sigh, taking a sip. “Kella is not like normal women. She’s been through too much shit in her life and has all the nightmares that come with them.”
“So has Bree,” Greg replies. “And Ze got through to her.”
“After time and effort.” I look at him. “Not the very first time he met her. Besides, Kella is not like Bree. Bree had a shell, yes, but she was also trying to pick up the pieces. Bree wanted to find her way out. Kella doesn’t yet. She confuses keeping herself protected with getting help from someone. You can’t help someone that doesn’t want to help themselves. Ze has his work cut out this time. Cracking that fucking shell will not be easy.” I say the last part bitterly. Ze isn’t the only one who wants to get inside Kella’s head.
“I’m sure.” Jake snorts approaching us taking a water from Declan. “She’s locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”
“She has a right to be,” Greg replies somberly. “After everything she’s been through …”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jake says sarcastically. “But she’s a survivor. And survivors do whatever it takes.”
“That she is,” I say. “That she is.”
“That she is what?” I hear Kella ask. Turning to look at her, I see her hands on the hips of her small frame. She must have changed into a new set of clothes at the gym and her hair is damp. She is trying her best to be intimidating, but I only see a poor imitation of a petulant child. She’s no longer a child, I think to myself.
“Just calling you unpredictable, kid,” Jake says to her.
“Better than being an intolerable jackass,” she replies, casting him a glare.
He enjoys pushing her buttons, a little too much. The amount of times I’ve told him to leave her alone clearly hasn’t mattered. Agitating Kella isn’t helping the situation, although I have noticed it distracts her from time to time. I’ll let it slide for now, as long as the two don’t come to actual blows again. I know Jake means well, but those two are like oil and water, they will coexist, but won’t mix.
“Enough you two.” I sigh looking at them. “I swear, maybe one day I’ll send you both to Ze’s to work out your differences in the ring.”
“Bring it,” Kella challenges, looking intently at Jake.
“Oh, it is so on,” Jake replies. Boy never could back down from any kind of challenge.
“Not in here.” Greg stands and steps between them, arms out keeping the two from jumping at each other then and there. “You know better than to stir up shit, Jake.” He gives his boyfriend a look, one that I know Jake understands. “And you,” he looks at Kella, “just had your ass handed to you, do you really want to have it happen again so soon?”
“I did not have my ass handed to me,” she says through gritted teeth. “I walked out of there on my own.”
“With a killer headache and probably a minor concussion,” he replies.
“Not with that thick head of hers,” Jake snips. Greg turns and gives him a sharp look, stopping Jake despite his mouth already being open for the next insult.
“I don’t need to put up with this shit.” Kella throws her hands in the air. “You aren’t worth my time,” she snarls at Jake before approaching Declan who chooses wisely and backs away from the situation.
Jake looks about ready to pounce before Greg gives him another halting look.
“Needed to go the gym anyway,” he mutters under his breath leaving the bar. I sigh as the tension in the room begins to ease as the two are no longer in the same room.
“Heard you had quite the scuffle,” I say to Kella.
“One that I walked away from.” She takes a sip of the water bottle Declan put on the bar top before walking away. She makes a sour face I can’t help but find cute.
“Not without consequences,” I reply. I hear Kella tsk in agitation. “It’s why I’m sending you there, so you can learn real techniques and prepare you for another bad situation. But most importantly, because this,” I reach out and gently tap a finger against her temple, “needs the biggest workout of all.”
“I’m fine the way I am,” she replies. “I don’t need that awful place, or Ze for that matter. He’s a jackass, and I’m not going back.”
“You will,” I say in frustration at repeating this conversation for the thousandth time.
“Then Ze needs to learn to stay out of my personal life.” She turns to look at me sharply, it’s then that I get a good look at her face. I can see the red-rimmed eyes and the pink tinge to her nose. She’s been crying. Whatever Ze said really did have an effect on her, even if it’s as simple as making her think. It’s a sign that Ze has a chance of breaking through to her after all.
“I’m sure he will,” I bluff. I know damn well Ze won’t stay out of shit.
“He better.” Kella raps her knuckles on the bar in a thoughtful movement.
“It’s about time for your daily dose,” I say gently.
Kella glares at me. Her body is still taking the detox harder than Lexi, who I was also giving shots to. I was thankful that Lexi was almost weaned off it though, she now only needs to come in every other day for a light dose, as opposed to Kella who still needs one every day even after a week. Rising from my stool, I jerk my head toward my office door making my way there with Kella on my heels.
I hate giving Kella the sedative as much as she hates receiving it. Even on these smaller doses, she gets woozy and sleepy. At least this way she is able to walk to her room and sleep it off instead of me having to carry her there. Not that I minded. I enjoyed holding her close to me. I can inhale her scent, feel her warmth, and her body pressed against mine is heaven. Even though I know she is currently unhappy with me about being forced to go to Ze’s, it feels as if we might be drawing closer. She is so strong, she never admits to needing help. Her weakness is giving in to her temper, and letting what others say and do affect her more than it should.
I make quick work of the sedative dose before I look up at Kella, swaying on her feet, trying to shake the cobwebs from her head before stumbling back into one of the leather chairs in my office. Eventually, she gives up and falls into it unceremoniously.
“Easy now.” I approach her, taking her arm gently as she tries to stand up. “Take it slow.”
“Everything’s dancing,” she replies wearily, her eyes fluttering open and closed. “Why does it have to be this way?” She looks up at me with tears in her eyes.
“Because Elizabeth was a cunt,” I reply, stroking her cheek. “And while the drug
isn’t as strong in your system, it’s just going to take time.”
“Pfft,” she responds, waving her hand at me.
“You drink quite a lot,” I respond, leaning down to look into her eyes. “I worry about you and the habit you were forced to form.” She blinks up at me with glazed eyes.
“I don’t have a problem,” she replies.
“You might not as much now.” I begin looking at her. “But if you aren’t careful, it will become one.”
“No.” She inches closer to my face, so close I can feel her breath against my lips. “I’m not an asshole like Jake.”
“You can be a little brat,” I reply, leaning in closer, looking down at her lips, seeing the softness of them as they part lightly.
“Kiss me?” she asks in a whisper and I feel a familiar feeling spring up in my pants. I knew I shouldn’t take advantage of her right now, but still, I lean in. Pulling her lips to mine as I give her a gentle kiss. Her arms snake around my neck to keep her lips locked with mine.
She deepens the kiss, increasing the intensity. The bulge forming in my pants begins to throb in need, I want to be inside of her so badly. But I know that now is not the time. The air leaves me in a hiss as her hand begins to rub me through my pants. I didn’t even feel her move her arm down. I can feel everything through the thin fabric of my dress pants, only making my desire grow that much stronger. I slide my free hand down along her waist and between her thighs. She moans as I stroke her inseam with my thumb knowing I’m close to where we both want me to be. Her legs begin rubbing back and forth unable to contain her pleasure. I find it hard to move my hand with the way she is squeezing, but I continue stroking, adding a bit more pressure as my thumb moves closer and closer to her sex.
“More,” she begs, her other hand reaching for my pants, attempting to undo the button.
I groan as I move to deftly undo her pants, my hand diving under the band of her underwear toward her core. She gasps as my fingers stroke against her opening, I smirk feeling how wet she is.