by LP Lovell
The frown comes back and he drops his eyes to the spot beside my head. He twirls a piece of my hair around his finger until the white blonde strands cut into his skin. The silence stretches on until he finally snaps his gaze back to mine again.
“He was looking at you.”
“Uh, it’s Sunny. He’s a dick. He only does it to try and annoy me.” Alex takes a heavy breath. “It’s not a big deal,” I reassure him.
He drags a hand over his face and refuses to look at me again. What the hell is wrong with him? “Titch, don’t make me say it.” He groans.
Sasha walks in and his eyes flick between me and Alex. “What is he going on about Sasha?” He always gives me straight answers. “Why did he fight with Sunny?”
Even Sasha looks uncomfortable. “Look, Una, you’re a girl.” He raises his eyebrows and I sit up on the bed, glaring at him. “And…” He clears his throat.
“And you’re living, sleeping… showering, with guys,” Alex finishes.
“This is a problem because…”
Sasha rolls his eyes. “Jesus, Una. Sunny looks at you like he wants you.” He raises his eyebrows.
“You don’t look like a kid any more, Titch,” Alex mumbles awkwardly.
Oh my god. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck until it takes over my face and reaches my hairline. Both of them are refusing to look me in the eye, although Sasha is less obvious about it. It’s true that in the last year, with a proper diet I have finally filled out from my formally skeletal form. My hips are fuller and I now have breasts, but it’s not like they’re enormous! Certainly not big enough to be gawking at.
“You’re right, Sunny is a dick,” Alex says, as though trying to somehow make this better. I can’t even look at either of them. This is mortifying.
A few minutes later Sunny and Adam walk in. Silence falls over the room and the tension feels like a physical weight pressing in on me. I can feel every eye focus on me, so I get up and go to my locker, taking out my gloves. I’d rather be anywhere but here right now, and so even though I’m tired and my muscles ache, I go to the training room.
I pound the heavy bag, feeling the weight of it against my knuckles. Each punch ricochets up my arm, making my limbs ache even more. I press through it until my hands hurt and my arms go numb.
“Careful, killer.” I turn and find Alex lounging against the wall. He’s shirtless as usual, wearing nothing but his workout pants. His hands are thrust deep in the pockets of his pants and his ankles are crossed one over the other.
“What do you want?” I turn my back on him and throw another round of punches at the bag. I still when I feel his hand on my shoulder. He wraps his arms around me, one around my waist and one over my chest. I can feel the heat of his bare chest burning through my tank as he presses against my back.
“I’m sorry.” He breathes right next to my ear. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He presses his lips into my hair and it’s something he’s done a thousand times before when he’s crawled into my bed at night. I never thought anything of it. It’s brought me comfort at times I felt alone and lost. It’s Alex. He’s my best friend. But this suddenly feels different. The gesture doesn’t feel like the simple act of one friend comforting another. This is their fault, him and Sasha. They just had to bring up the boob thing and make it weird. I take a deep breath and lean back against his body. He towers over me and his thick arms wrapped around me have always made me feel as though nothing in this world can touch me. I turn around and press my cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. That rhythmic thump, thump, thump has soothed me to sleep many times. His hand cups the back of my head, stroking over my damp hair.
“You didn’t upset me.” I sigh. “Boys are idiots.”
He laughs. “I won’t argue with you.”
I pull my face away from his chest and look up at him. “You still didn’t explain why you hit Sunny,” I whisper, “I can take care of myself.”
He tilts his head back and releases a heavy sigh. “I don’t like him looking at you.”
“Why?” I ask, so quietly I’m not sure if he even hears me.
He brings his gaze back to mine, narrowing his eyes impatiently. His arms tighten around me, and he stares at me for so long, time seems to stand still as I get lost in his eyes. And the way he’s looking at me; he’s never looked at me like that before. He brings his face closer to mine and my breath seizes in my chest. My stomach tenses, fluttering with something strange. This is Alex, my Alex, the boy who holds me when I’m sad, defends me when I don’t need defending and kicks my ass for my own good. He taught me to throw a punch, how to reassemble a gun in under ten seconds. Right now though, he feels like none of that and all of that. I can’t explain it. He feels like something foreign and yet warm and familiar, safe. Those dark eyes of his burn into me as though he can see into my very soul. And then they drop to my lips, lingering there. I’m both embarrassed and curious. I feel the blush blossoming over my cheek bones. My breath hitches and his arm leaves the small of my back. He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, and my eyelids flutter closed as my heart leaps into the sprint, my skin tingling under his touch. Calloused fingers trace my jawline and warm breath blows over my face before his lips brush over mine in a feather light caress. I freeze, unable to move, unable to breathe. He kisses me. Alex kisses me. I’m too confused to react. His lips are softer than they look, and his fingers trail down the side of my neck leaving tingles in their wake. When he breaks away I open my eyes and drop my gaze to the worn concrete floor beneath my feet.
“Una…” he starts, but says nothing more. I finally lift my eyes to his and in this awkward tension seems to linger between us. “I’m sorry,” he stammers.
I shake my head. “It’s okay.” Or at least I think it is. Honestly I’m not really sure myself. His arms are still wrapped around me and the embrace that felt simply friendly a few moments ago now feels like something else.
“It will be lights out soon,” he says, stepping back and holding his hand out to me. I take it and his fingers thread through mine as he leads me back to the dorm room. Sunny and Adam glare at us as we walk in. Sasha makes a deliberate effort to ignore us.
I get changed and climb into bed. Alex hoists himself up onto his own bed and then the lights go out. The darkness wraps around me, hiding everything, but it’s here in the quiet of the dark that I hear and see the most. My lips tingle and I press my fingers against them, remembering the feel of Alex’s kiss. Why would he do that? I’ve never thought about being kissed before. I mean, it’s not as if there’s an awful lot of room for fairy tales in my world. Kisses and boys… those are the things told in the Disney films I used to watch when I was young, before all this. Things from a different place, a different time, things that don’t belong here. Alex and Sasha are my best friends but James has always told us we are disposable, which is why we must be the best. Anything less and we die. I know all of this, having willingly embraced it in order to be strong, to make Nikolai proud. And yet, Alex has always been my safe place. In his arms, hearing his carefree laugh, I can almost pretend that this isn’t our life, that we are just two normal people, a boy and a girl. I want that. I want to be strong, but I wish I didn’t have to be. I wish that this world wasn’t so messed up that I need to be.
I’m still awake what feels like hours later. I can hear the heavy sleep drawn breaths from the other guys in the room and the god awful snoring coming from Adams bunk. The springs of the mattress about me creek, and then Alex’s leg appear, hanging over the side of the bed. Is he going to get in my bed? Do I want him to? Wait, why wouldn’t I want him to? He’s always done it. The kiss, that’s why. I don’t get much choice because he doesn’t ask. He simply hops down, his feet hitting the ground so lightly that they make no sound at all. He tugs at the edge of the blanket and I find myself shuffling over, making room for his ever broadening frame in the tiny bed. He gets in next to me and says nothing. I turn on my side and stare at him, h
e stares back and I can just make out his eyes, twinkling in the dark. After a while he smiles, his brilliant grin standing out against the darkness.
“Why are you smiling?” I whisper.
“Because you’re beautiful.”
I blush and tuck my chin, focusing on his chest. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Nothing stupid about it.” A light feeling creeps through my chest and my stomach clenches. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, kissing my forehead. His lips linger on my skin for several moments before he props his chin on my head. I breathe in the familiar scent of him, and sigh on a contented breath. He holds me like that and strokes over my hair until I drift to sleep.
7
“One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.” - Rita Mae Brown
“Breathe in. Pause. Feel your heartbeat. Slow it, control it. Now squeeze the trigger.” I stare down the scope, focusing in on the metal target shaped like a person. I apply pressure on the trigger and the rifle explodes. I watch as it hits the target right on the centre of the head. I look up at James who is standing over me, looking through his binoculars at the target two hundred yards away. He glances down at to me, his expression unreadable.
“Good.” One word. He moves down the line checking on Sasha to my right.
“Good?” Alex laughs from my left. I glanced at him and shrug. Guns I can do. I like the control, the precision. It’s not about strength or bodyweight. There’s something about the distance of it as well that I find appealing. I’m not squeamish, though I admit that I’m scared of having to kill someone with a knife or something. It seems so brutal and unnecessary. Guns are clean, methodical, distanced. I fire a few more shots and then James taps my shoulder.
“Go work the bag,” he says and I almost groan. I hate the bag. Instead though, I get up and do as he says, working at pounding the bag for the rest of the morning.
I grunt when my back hits the mat and Sunny lands on top of me. His legs straddle my body and his fists pound against my forearms as I block him from connecting with my face. He laughs manically and it pisses me off but I refuse to break my guard. He’ll falter soon. He’s arrogant and he assumes I’m weak. He pauses between punches and his left shoulder drops slightly. He’s tiring. I break and strike out, taking one in the jaw from his right hook, but punching him in the throat at the same time. He chokes and his eyes go wide. His weight shifts backwards slightly and I punch him in his junk. I hear the collective groan of pain from every guy in the room right along with Sunny. It’s like he’s been shot with a stun gun. His entire body goes rigid and he pitches to the side. I roll to my feet and walk over to him. I should probably be above pettiness but I’m not. I hate him. I swing my leg back and land a good kick to his kidney before James shouts at me.
“Just making sure he stays down.” I smirk
Alex dips his head, hiding his smile as I fall back into the line. Sasha stands vigilantly beside him, his expression stoic and serious as always.
“Alex, Sasha, you’re up.” James points to the two of them and they strip out of their shirts, coming to stand across from each other. We call it the ring but it’s really just a designated section of the training room that we fight in. There are no ropes, and certainly no soft landing. If you go down it’s on the cold, hard concrete, and let me tell you, it hurts. Sunny has finally limped back in line just as Alex and Sasha stand off against each other. Sasha has a better technique, but Alex has this brutality in the way he fights. They’re pretty evenly matched and James always pairs them. I can see why. If Alex took on more of Sasha’s technique, and Sasha took on some of Alex’s fire, they’d both be unbeatable.
They rain blows down on each other until both of them are bloodied and bruised. Neither seems to have the upper hand. I’ve watched them trade punches like this for hours before. In the end, James calls time on it and calls us back into line.
He starts talking, but my attention turns to the heavy buzzing sound of the main door opening. I glance towards the door, watching a figure step into the room. I have to fight a grin when I see Nicholai standing, watching us. I don’t see him often. He drops in every now and then to check up on us.
“Dismissed,” James barks.
The others head straight for the showers, throwing a few glances at Nicholai. They whisper about him, they fear him. When I first came here they would speak of him, telling me that he’s the big boss of the Russian Mafia. I know very little of the Mafia, or the bratva as they call it in here. They say that Nicholai is a powerful man, and I suppose he must be to train his own soldiers. They also say that he’s a bad man but it all depends how you define bad. To me, he’s one of the only people who has ever cared about me. No matter his deeds, that is what I will always think of when I see him. When I look in his eyes I can only see his kindness, and I can only feel gratitude. The boys all call him sir and only speak when spoken to. I’m not the boys. I jog over to him where he stands talking to James. He looks his usual immaculate self in his suit and tie. His greying hair is swept back and he’s clean shaven, the sharp planes of his face stark against those stormy grey eyes of his.
“Nicholai!” I grin.
“Una!” James shouts, scolding me. I flinch against the bite of his voice, but Nicholai holds up a hand, silencing him.
He turns his attention to me and smiles. “Little dove. I have missed you,” he croons.
“I missed you too.” He reaches out and brushes his thumb over my bruised jaw. “James tells me you are doing well.”
I shrug one shoulder and smirk. “For a girl.”
He laughs. “Oh, my precious little dove…some of the greatest men in history have been brought to their knees by a woman. You will slay them with your looks, woo them with your innocence and end them with a bullet.” He winks. “Perfection.” I blush and drop my eyes to the floor. “I came because I have a job for you.”
I frown. “A job?”
He nods. “A protection detail.”
“Sir, they are not ready,” James interrupts.
Nicholai sighs before reaching beneath his jacket and un-holstering his gun. James tenses and I hold my breath for a second, waiting for something to happen. He stares at James the entire time as he turns the gun and hands it to me. I tentatively wrap my fingers around the hilt allowing my index finger to brush the trigger.
“Shoot the targets, little dove.” He points at the targets on the other side of the enormous concrete room. They’re maybe fifty yards away from where we stand by the door, but this is where I excel. We train ten hours a day and hand to hand combat is where my sheer lack of strength lets me down, but with a gun in my hand I’m the best. I lift the gun, flicking the safety off. I glance down the sights, take a breath and fire one bullet after the other in quick succession. A perfect bullet hole sits in the centre of each target when I’m done. I flick the safety back on and hand the gun back to Nicholai. He’s looking at me with narrowed eyes, a strange smile on his lips. He turns and claps a hand on James’ shoulder.
“You are too modest James. One year and she’s a prodigy in the making.” The muscles in James’ jaw twitch erratically but he says nothing. “Get Sasha for me, please.” James stalks away and Nicholai smiles down at me. “Very impressive.” He jerks his chin towards the targets.
“I like guns,” I tell him, and he laughs.
“You are a blessing to me.” He strokes a hand over my head and I swallow a lump in my throat.
“I…” I’m cut off when Sasha walks over to us. His back is straight, his posture tense, the same way it always is when he’s around Nicholai. Sasha says that my familiarity with Nicholai is disrespectful. Nicholai doesn’t seem to think so.
“Sir.” Again, Sasha stares straight ahead, not even looking at either of us.
“I have a job for the pair of you. Come.” He enters a code into the key pad beside the door and it buzzes open. I haven’t been past that door since I arrived here a year ago. Everything from sleeping quarters to shower facilities and cafe
teria is all contained within this one wing of the facility, cut off. We live, sleep and train together, just the five of us. Of course I never talk to Sunny or Adam, so really it’s just the three of us. Sasha is like my brother, and Alex…Alex is my best friend. I’ve found a sense of belonging here, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. We’re made to fight until we’re bleeding, battered and bruised and barely able to stand. And beyond the physical is the mental. We’re made to sit and watch hours and hours of footage of people being killed. A fifty caliber bullet will blow a man’s entire head off and a grenade will completely tear a body apart. They never tell us why, simply force us to watch the gruesome scenes. The thing is though; I don’t find them so gruesome anymore. Normality is whatever you make it, and this is my normal. Every single facet of my life is structured towards death and destruction.
Nicholai leads us down a corridor until he comes to a room with a heavy steel door. This room doesn’t have a key pad, but a sensored screen which he presses his thumb against. It beeps and the door releases. My jaw drops when I step inside. I’ve never seen so many weapons, from hand guns to sniper rifles and knives.
“Suit up. Take whatever you need.” He holds his arm out, inviting us into the room. Sweet.
I pick up a holster, fastening it around my waist before I take up a 9mm and a .40 cal. I check the clips on both and grab two spare. I find a dagger and thigh holster, strapping that to my leg.
I walk back out of the room and Nicholai wordlessly hands me a jacket that he seems to have acquired from nowhere. “It’s cold outside.”