A shrill whistle split the air. “Are we training, or are we stopping for tea? Get your arses moving, or you are both going to be running extra laps!” Master Tye shouted from across the room, the remnants of an accent exposing his roots from another age.
As Linc glanced away to make some undoubtedly smart-assed remark, I leaped.
You let him distract you, little brother.
Pushing off the lip of my disc, I used it as a springboard to launch myself high into the air. Linc grunted as I planted my hands on his shoulders and vaulted over him. The slow-motion dismay on his face as he tried, and failed, to grab me out of thin air was comedy at its finest. Completing my flip, I landed in a crouch on the final disc.
The grin slipped from my lips—my victory cut short—as something large and solid crashed into me from behind. Massive arms wrapped around me like a vice, making it difficult to breathe. My stomach rose to my throat as we free-fell toward the foam pit far below. I landed on top of Linc, eliciting a grunt from him as we bounced.
Eventually coming to a stop, we lay side-by-side in silence for a moment, staring up at the course high above us.
“You failed us both. I haven’t failed a course in at least a month. I was going for a new record.” I made a half-assed attempt at swatting in his direction.
Linc chuckled. “I failed this course once before you got here.”
“You’re joking.” A laugh bubbled out, making Linc laugh too—culminating with the both of us in stitches.
This is why I love it here.
It was the only place where I didn’t have to guard my thoughts and emotions.
Unable to move in that moment, we continued to lay in the foam—listening to the thundering and ominous footsteps of our Master headed our way.
“Would I joke about that? This course is dope,” he said.
It took me a good few seconds to realize he was responding to my pre-giggle-fest comment.
“You’re a dope,” I eventually retorted.
“I am dope. Thank you.”
Master Tye was finally upon us.
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you two?” he growled down at us. “You know what? I don’t even want to hear it. Both of you are running fifteen miles tonight. I’ll be monitoring your activity. Not a mile less. Now get over to the mats.”
Master Tye was able to track our exercise magically. He was like an Apple Watch I couldn’t turn off or say I accidentally misplaced.
We both groaned.
“Yes, Master Tye,” we said in unison.
Linc made it out of the foam first and gave me a hand-up. “I can’t believe you didn’t let me have that one. You had to pull a flying catapult move straight out of a Jackie Chan movie. Now, we both have to run,” he whined, elbowing me in the ribs.
I shoved him back. “Me! You are the one who took us both out of the game.”
We faced off on the mats, getting into our fighting stances. Master Tye taught us several martial arts forms and weapons training on top of that. Before Master Tye was our master, he trained the elites who trained the current elites while working for my grandparents.
I still remembered the day I stumbled into this gym fourteen years ago. He took one look at the fresh bruises on my body, my fat lip, the old scars on my back, and finally, the look of determination in my eyes, and decided to take me on.
This gym was where I learned to overcome the debilitating anxiety and self-doubt placed within me by my mother. It was where I gained the confidence that my role in this world would demand of me.
It wasn’t long before Linc was there beside me, trying to one-up me from the very beginning. Master Tye knew who we were. Specifically, he knew who I was. Unbeknownst to Mother, Tye was of the few who knew my face, which was very, very dangerous—for him. He didn’t take other clients while we were here, and he made sure we were well out of the gym before anyone else arrived. I prayed that it would be enough.
“Start from the beginning,” Master Tye said, taking up a staff. He hit the floor with a tap, tap, tap, as he counted out the steps of our drills.
We jumped and spun, kicked, and punched—our moves like a choreographed dance that we’d perfected over the years, our forms perfectly synced.
Finally warmed up, we moved on to grappling. Linc charged, clearly hoping for a quick takedown. Stepping aside at the last moment, I aimed a swift kick at his side. He blocked, pushing my leg away. Leaning in, he snatched my elbow. Slipping his head under my arm, he grabbed my waist and upper body with his massive paws.
Curse words slipped from my lips because I knew precisely what was coming.
Linc rose to his full height, throwing me up and over his shoulder. Landing flat on my back, the air whooshed from my lungs.
Wheezing, I rolled and slowly got to my feet. Resting my hands on my knees, I continued gulping air. “You’ll pay for that one.”
With a shout, I attacked in a flurry of fists. My skin glistened with sweat as we continued to trade blows, neither of us getting an edge, but neither conceding either.
The next time he went to hit me—his reach approximating that of a gorilla—I lashed out with my foot, pushing him away with a front kick. As he twisted off-balance, I spun to my left, sweeping him with a stiff punch to the diaphragm.
With an audible oomph, he dropped like a rock to his knees. Bending over, he rested his forehead on the mat. When he groaned, my lips lifted in a smirk.
“Too slow, little bro. Too slow.”
While Linc recovered, I glanced up at the clock—the hands ticking away at my freedom. Like always, the high of the workout quickly faded into a cold numbness that spread throughout my body. The mere thought of facing my prison once again ripped away my happy mood. Far too soon, my hour was up.
Pulling Linc from the ground, I gestured to my wrist in the universal signal that it was time to go.
“See you tomorrow, Master Tye!” I shouted—the same thing I said every time. We didn’t see each other every day, but we said it all the same. It was our way of saying that we’d make it through anything.
“Not a minute late, or I’ll make you run a full marathon!”
“Yeah, yeah!” I called back.
“Geez. Slave driver, that one,” Linc mumbled, as he hiked a thumb over his shoulder in Master Tye’s direction. A chuckle slipped from my lips as I toweled off and threw my hoodie back on.
Master Tye was tough, but we loved the old man. He was one of the few people I could count on one hand—okay, like two fingers—who actually gave a damn about me.
My fingers lifted in a wave as Linc and I veered apart, taking our separate routes back to the building. My way always carried me through my favorite park.
“Hank! Got your usual.” I opened my messenger bag and retrieved the stack of sandwiches I’d brought from the kitchens. The homeless man and I shared a smile.
Knowing my mother was a horrendous cow, this was among the few minor things I did to put a little good juju back in the world. Besides that, Mother didn’t know that her five-star chefs were feeding poor norms. My smile widened.
“Thanks, Iz! I’ll see these spread around,” Hank called, as I jogged away.
Arriving at my building, I put my hat back on as I slunk my way through the loading dock and into the kitchens once again—amulet and disguise firmly back in place. My fingers plucked an apple from a bowl on my way through. I was so famished, the thing was gone before I made it three steps into the hallway.