Alex began bouncing on the spot, letting his arms flop around like they were numb. Lucas chuckled at how ridiculous his friend looked. Alex stopped bouncing and turned to Lucas.
“Do you know how many punches he landed?' Lucas looked at Alex blankly. “None. Do you know how many I landed?”
Again, blank.
“None.”
Lucas finished taping his wrists and pushed himself up off the bench and began stretching, spreading his legs and reaching for the floor. Alex continued.
“Do you know how many kicks it took to take him down?” Before Lucas could answer, Alex did it for him. “Just one.”
“I’d have loved to have seen that.” Lucas stood up, placed his hands on his hips and started to rotate them as if spinning an imaginary hoola-hoop.
“Do you know why I’m telling you this story?” Alex asked, the first time in this entire exchange that he sounded serious.
“Because we are about to focus on kicks and you want me to realise how vital they are?” Lucas offered.
“True, but it’s more than that.” Alex came in close, as if to keep it a secret despite them being the only two men in the room. “I didn’t win that fight because my technique was superior or because he was cocky. It was because of strategy. He came into the fight thinking all he needed was his strength and his brawn, two things he easily outmatched me on. That’s not a strategy. That is playing to your strengths. A strategy is what can lead you to winning against the odds, to overcoming obstacles or winning battles that running blindly into won't.”
He reached out and gently slapped Lucas in the stomach, just below the arch of the rib cage. “The diaphragm is one of the most important muscles in the body. So, instead of going for a barrage of punches, trying to pummel him into the ground, I struck quickly, I struck brutally and I struck effectively. It’s the key to winning any fight. Lucas, I know you don’t compete, but as my star pupil I see it in you most. If you find the most devastating avenue of attack before the fight has started, then it’s already over.”
Alex’s face suddenly contorted into almost confusion and he slapped Lucas in the same spot again.
“Whoa, what happened to the diet?”
“What?” Lucas was pretty shocked, his body almost perfect, his abs hard and his muscles rounded. “I’ve been stricter than ever.”
“Yeah, yeah fat boy.” Alex said smiling. He pointed to the mat on the ground. 'A hundred sit-ups. Now!'
One thing Lucas could never accuse Alex of was going easy on him. On the contrary, he felt Alex pushed him harder than he would another pupil because they were best friends. Lucas had always kept himself in shape in the years before he’d met Helen, which in turn led him to meeting Alex.
Exercise was one of the few pastimes he’d had to break the monotony of those long, empty days. But since he’d started training in Muay Thai, his appreciation of the idea of dedicating oneself to a practice, be it martial art or ballet or dance or whatever, skyrocketed. Helen was certainly appreciative of his physique, she had let him know that a number of times, but the vanity factor never came into it for Lucas. It was about the discipline and control that came with it, the structured regimen that kept his mind straight. He worked on his body, ensured his body-fat was low, his muscles rock solid. So he could improve.
His fitness levels had never been so high, a tribute to his five sessions a week with Alex and the few miles he jogged to and from the Centre in the mornings to attend them. That, along with the strict diet he adhered to, it was no wonder Alex called him a machine.
Lucas accomplished the hundred sit-ups with minimal fuss and immediately rolled over to his front. He placed his hands flat at shoulders length apart and with a perfect firmness, lifted himself up. Alex was barking encouragement as Lucas pushed himself up and down with the fluidity of a calm sea and after his fiftieth press up, returned to lying on his back.
Alex handed him a gym ball. Lucas stretched his arms as far above his head as he could, his legs completely straight. Then in synchronised fashion, he brought his legs and his hands up to meet each other at the same time. As they connected he secured the gym ball between his shins, stretched himself out again, pulling his stomach to its very limit. He repeated the exercise fifty times, then hopped up to his feet and jumped up in the air, bringing his knees into his chest. Straightening before landing, he immediately squatted down, planted both hands on the floor and flicked his legs back as far as he could. Lucas hated doing burpees, they were his least favourite exercise but he did agree they were effective.
Alex was almost tyrannical in his classes when it came to burpees. It was his go to punishment when someone spoke out of turn, disrespected or didn’t listen. Five minutes of burpees for the entire class and the second he saw someone struggling he added on an extra minute. Alex expected beyond perfection and pushed everyone towards it.
Lucas finished his five minutes of burpees and Alex handed him a towel and a bottle of water. Lucas was equally grateful for both, smiling as he dabbed his now sweaty forehead, before taking a huge swig of the mineral water.
'Right, set one out of the way.' Alex slapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. 'Four more to go.'
Lucas said nothing, but his eyes conveyed how much he hated Alex at that moment, especially as he was antagonising him with a foolish grin.
Lucas dropped to the mat again and began another hundred sit ups.
Alex extended a hand and pulled Lucas up from the floor, as the fifth and final round of burpees came to an end. He patted him on the back as a well done and allowed Lucas a few minutes to catch his breath and get his intake of vital fluids. Whilst Lucas rehydrated, Alex moved a weight bench into position, adjusting the back and bringing it to a diagonal angle.
Lucas sat down, took a deep breath as Alex handed him the heavy dumbbells from the bench and began doing his incline presses. With his friend spotting him, Lucas performed five sets perfectly, straining on the last few as his chest muscles were almost ripped from his frame. They immediately dropped the bench flat and Lucas performed another five sets, this time upping the weight but lowering the number of repetitions, Alex counting them out and reminding Lucas to breathe through them.
Alex had already laid out three more sets of dumbbells in a row, heaviest at the front and then dropping down a few weights each time. With a silent focus, Lucas hopped in front of the heaviest weight and performed ten dumbbell curls on each arm. Alex was barking encouragement as Lucas dropped them and then picked up the next set, performing eight reps, his arms straining and shaking as he curled the metal to his chest. After those, he moved on to the next set and although lighter, he struggled through six more reps, dropping them and letting out a roar of anguish, his biceps screaming as they pushed against his skin. Alex applauded, patted Lucas on the back and then demanded he start again as he had two more rounds to complete.
Lucas’s favourite part of his training was the punch bags and he afforded himself a wry smile as he slid his hands into his gloves, pulling the ties across with his teeth so they stuck to the Velcro pads. Alex stood to the side, barking out striking combinations which Lucas then introduced to the thick, padded target. His stance was nigh on perfect and he hammered the bag with such a fury it rocked on its chain. Ten minutes passed in what felt like seconds with Lucas not missing a beat, every punch, kick and knee sending a hard thudding echo around the dojo.
Alex called time and Lucas took a few moments to swig his drink and take deep, helpful breaths. The beads of sweat trickled from the back of his short hair and down under his t-shirt, which was darkened almost entirely by perspiration. Alex worked him damn hard that was for sure. Alex threw the large pad he had brought in earlier into the ring and then crouched in front of Lucas, fitting the padded guards onto his shins for him. Lucas had tried to do it once before whilst wearing his gloves and that ended with him on his back and Alex in a fit of laughter.
Lucas hopped in through the ropes and bounced on the spot, getting a feel for th
e canvas under his feet as Alex fitted his arms into the holders on the back of the large protection pad. It ran from shoulder height down to his knee and he turned his body and leaned into it slightly, ensuring both of his feet were well planted on the mat. Lucas stretched out his legs, his eyes closed as he got his mind ready.
'I want you to kick it all out Lucas. I want you to reach inside of you, beyond the barriers you have put up and I want you to bring out the bad stuff. 'Alex instructed, Lucas deep in thought, taking in his words.
'I want you to bring it, channel it and then let it explode out through your shins. I want you to knock me over!'
Lucas finally opened his eyes and took up his stance, ensuring his back foot had plenty of scope to turn but was also locked, balance being one of the biggest factors in the success of a perfect kick.
Possibly the greatest weapon in Muay Thai is the shin kick. Generated with enough power and combined with a competent technique, it can be a real game changer. Many traditional practices have required pupils to condition their shins, which involved striking the bare shin against a solid surface with enough force to strengthen it. It is a gruelling and painful experience, one which Alex had made Lucas go through once a week. Although Alex’s conditioning pole did have a thin mat taped around it, an apparent attempt at generosity which Lucas constantly poked fun at.
Alex took his stance and goaded Lucas to strike. Lucas pulled his leg back, channelling the anger and fury, the darkness of his pre-Helen days...those thoughts...
Those thoughts...
THWACK!
Alex shuffled back slightly as Lucas connected with the pad, his shin colliding against it with a furious velocity. The power was all generated from the turn of the hips, the balance of the standing foot ensuring the solidity of the swivel. Alex barked out a command for more, as Lucas took a few steps, staying in front of Alex who was also moving slightly. Another solid kick followed by another. Alex demanded Lucas kick higher. Lucas took a small step and then hammered the pad into Alex’s ribs, knocking him a few steps to the right.
'Come on Lucas, kick me! I didn’t ask for a game of footsie did I?'
Lucas, his eyes locked on the pad like a lion on its prey, made a split decision to mix it up. A 'teep kick' in Muay Thai is a great setup move, a thrust forward with the bottom of your foot into the opponent’s mid-section that pushes them back, potentially knocks some wind out of them and also causes openings to emerge as they adjust for balance. Lucas took a step and in one fluid movement, connected with a teep kick to the centre of the pad, knocking Alex back slightly and just a mere fraction off balance. The surprise kick called for Alex to put more pressure to his left side to steady himself and in doing so left himself exposed for the follow up shin kick to the side that Lucas delivered instantly with pin point accuracy. With Alex’s body already leaning left, the hasty arrival of Lucas’s shin pushed him over, his foot gave out and Alex crashed to the mat.
Lucas lowered his guard and smiled at his fallen friend.
“You sneaky bastard!” Alex chuckled, looking up at him. He pushed himself up, as Lucas shrugged. Alex adjusted himself, planting his feet firmly in place and then leant into the pad. Lucas took up his fighting stance again, as Alex shouted out.
“Again!”
Lucas moved forward in his fighting stance, lifted his leg and obliged.
After the sparring finished, Alex stuffed the large pad and the shin guards into a store cupboard while Lucas slowly walked over to the short bench where his bag was. His body ached, his abdominal muscles straining against the skin trying to re-enact their own version of the film Alien. His chest muscles were slowly stitching themselves back together with each burning second. He lazily dropped his gloves by his bag, turned and slumped onto the bench. He draped a towel over the back of his neck, absorbing the constant stream of sweat falling from his hair line.
He loved every second of it. It had taken him a long time in his life, down some dark and horrible roads but he now had things that he cared for.
His wife.
His friends.
His Muay Thai.
Lucas sipped his drink, smiling slightly as his gaze took him off into the distance. Alex snapped him out of it as he squatted down in front of his thoroughly worked pupil.
“Why do we do this Lucas?” His voice soft but lined with purpose.
“Discipline and control.”
Alex wrapped his hand around the back of Lucas’s head and pulled him in so their foreheads touched.
“Again!”
“Discipline and control.”
“Louder!”
“Discipline and control!” Lucas shouted.
Alex pushed his head in harder as a sign of solidarity and then released his hold. He got up and placed his hands firmly on his hips.
'Right, you have a job to go to and I have to make it look like I’m busy.'
Lucas got to his feet, taking a moment to honour and thank his best friend for the session with a bow. Alex reciprocated and walked over towards the weights that needed clearing before the gym and dojo opened to the public. Lucas quickly pulled his tracksuit on over his sweaty body, hooked his gym bag to his back and stopped as he approached the door.
“Same time tomorrow?”
“You bet'cha,” Alex responded warmly, carrying the heavy weights back to the stand. “Although next time, try to actually hit me, yeah?”
Lucas nodded in sarcastic agreement and walked out, back into the long corridor. He admired the trophy cabinet for a few seconds and then made his way through the building. As he opened the front door, his hood immediately went up. He began his jog home, head down and into the onslaught of rain that had begun to fall.
The water rushed over him with a cooling feel and Lucas tipped his head forward. He said a silent thank you to Helen for insisting on buying a power shower when they’d revamped their bathroom two years ago. She was always good at making decisions like that and Lucas loved how insistent she was. He certainly wasn’t going to complain as he pressed his hands against the wall, his head facing down as the water ran through his brown hair, down his stubbly cheek and dripping onto the shower floor.
He stood like that for nearly four minutes, letting the water beat down against his muscular frame, now bulging from the intensity of his morning workout. The pressure of the incoming droplets was like a mini massage and Lucas reminded himself.
Discipline and control.
That’s why you do it, Lucas.
Discipline and control.
He ensured that the barriers leading to the earlier days of his life remained fully intact, sending his current thoughts to Helen’s conversation the night before about booking a holiday for the summer. He felt a smile creep across his face, loving the reminder that she was almost as organised and meticulous as he was.
He loved her.
So much.
He reached out and turned off the shower and the last flow of water crashed against the floor as Lucas stepped out onto the white bath mat. He instantly grabbed his towel, running it over his body and head, drying himself swiftly. He checked the clock. It was ten to eight, time to make breakfast. He wrapped the towel around his waist and strolled out of the bathroom, turning past the guest room and walked towards the door to their bedroom.
Helen was already awake, her short blonde hair pulled back into an adorable pony tail. She was wearing a very short and very thin dressing gown and she had a frown on her face. Lucas looked at her smooth legs before returning her glare with a fake one of his own.
“Can I help you, Miss?” he said, the sternness in his voice obviously playful.
“I honestly thought, that after eight years of marriage, you would know me by now!” She looked angrily in his direction and Lucas began to wonder what he could have done wrong. She stormed towards him, her large, beautiful blue eyes locked on his.
“You know what time I have my shower in the morning.” She grabbed the top of his towel and pulled him towards her. She kiss
ed him firmly, her hands running up the defined muscle lines in his back. She slowly brought her mouth round to his ear and whispered.
“And you know that I like some company.” She flashed a devilish grin at Lucas and then walked towards the bathroom. Lucas’s gaze followed her as she walked, admiring her figure as she approached the bathroom door. Before she went in, she pulled open her dressing gown and dropped it on the floor, giving her husband a quick glimpse of her stunning naked body before disappearing through the door frame.
Lucas took a deep breath, thought about the things he had to do before leaving for work and then immediately disregarded them. He walked back to the bathroom, dropped his towel and joined his wife in the shower cubicle, much to her delight.
Lucas thought of that moment as he waited in front of the grubby, grease stained sink for the water to flow from the rusty tap. He thought about how happy he was, how making love to his wife in the morning, their two bodies interlocking in the hot stream from the shower above was what dreams were made of.
The water struggled but eventually drizzled out from the old metal, an orange tinge to it. He sighed and held his hands under it.
He thought back to that morning almost three weeks ago.
He thought of Helen.
He thought of her kiss.
It made him clench his fist in anger, as he began to wash the blood from his hands.
CHAPTER TWO
Their house had never felt the same after Susan had died. Thirty nine years of marriage, a family, laughter and tears had all blessed the house. Now, as Paul Fletcher finished his morning cup of coffee, it felt empty. It had been nearly six years since cancer had taken her from him and in the time since he had felt his world shrink smaller and smaller by the day. His daughters, Annabelle and Christine had less and less contact with him and he barely saw his grandchildren.
The only thing getting him up in the mornings was his job for the Metropolitan Police, volunteering in the admin offices. It was monotonous work, however the only thing he had loved as much as his wife and kids for the last thirty nine years was his career as a police officer for the Met.
One by One: A brutal, gritty revenge thriller that you won't be able to put down. Page 2