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Kell stared down at the busy street that had come alive with the nine-to-fivers hurrying to their destinations. He closed his eyes, wondering how he was going to convince Quick that he was really ready to make some changes when he still had the stench of blood, sweat, tears, and the county lock-up on his skin. Kell was pissed with himself for losing control again and using his skills, but when he’d seen that scared boy turn the corner, hauling ass with trouble fast on his heels… Kell had taken off to save him. Is that what I think I’m doing… saving people? He’d seen that kid running for his life and something in Kell had snapped and it was him he saw running. Just like he used to. Terrified.
Bullying was the ultimate crime to him and it had to be stopped. And so he did. Kell wanted… no he needed to put the fear of God in those idiots. Next thing he knew, his elbows had connected and shattered jaws and the heels of his boots cracked ribs. His strikes had been too fast to block. His opponent’s defensive moves were comical to him. They were slow and clumsy, but his takedowns were so precise Kell didn’t even have to look at the man he’d struck behind him as he backhanded the jackass who’d approached to his left, all while keeping his eyes on the two men working their way off the ground in front of him.
Kell backed away from the window. He went to the small area rug in the center of the room where the sun cast a beam of light and eased down into the full lotus position then placed his hands palm-up on his knees. He centered his being. Letting all thoughts flow from his mind. No fighting, no bullying, no father, no hate. Just a calm spirit. He didn’t know how long he’d meditated before he’d been able to see his path to set his goal, but it finally came, and the words whispered about in his mind in a soothing tone.
From this moment on, I will control myself and adhere to my teachings. I will turn away from my past that poisons my mind and seize my future. My only goal is to make my sensei proud and to be the man he trained me to be. I will continue to fight for what’s right. And I will only do it in a just way.
Ty
Ty rode the bus to Cheddar’s apartment in Euclid Court to pick up his package for the morning delivery. Cheddar had texted and told him they had a new customer and it was important that the package be delivered on time. He got off at Sterling Street and headed north. One hand tightly clutched the leather strap of his book bag and the other was tucked into his jacket pocket, his warm fingers resting over cold steel. There was little foot traffic during this time of day, only elderly folk taking leisurely walks, women pushing strollers, delinquents skipping school, and Ty kept his eyes on them all. No one in these neighborhoods was innocent.
“Only trust a few and be wary of most,” his father had told him repeatedly.
A person had to earn Ty’s trust and that wasn’t easy to do. Call it hard lessons learned over many years. He kept his head up, his long legs covering the distance fast. He didn’t like Cheddar’s neighborhood, there was one way in, one way out and Ty hated limited options. Slowing just a bit, he felt before he heard the rumble of a powerful car engine easing down Candler—the same one he’d seen when he’d been at Sharains’—its dark tinted windows making it impossible to see who or even how many people were inside. Ty’s hair rose on the back of his neck and his heartrate picked up a few extra beats as he slowed his pace, not wanting to appear shook. The car rolled to the stop sign and Ty crossed at the intersection with the few other pedestrians. He could feel eyes on him, but he didn’t turn his head to see as the engine revved and the car turned in the same direction he was walking then slowed just ahead, pulling against the curb. He didn’t know who the hell that was, but he wasn’t about to wait and find out. His father didn’t raise no fool. Ty dropped behind a couple of men just as the MARTA bus pulled up to the stop. As soon as the doors swung open, he darted up the steps before anyone else could even get off. He hurried to the middle and dropped down into a seat, pulling his collar up higher, turning to look out the window. He was glad no one could see how wide his eyes got when the driver’s door opened, and a man dressed in head-to-toe black and built like a brick shithouse eased out of the jet-black Mustang. He stared across the street, his eyes the color of charcoal scanning the crowd Ty had been walking behind, before his head jerked toward the MARTA already pulling away from the curb. There was no way in hell the dark man could see him on the bus, but he still squinted at it and turned up one side of his mouth as if he knew he’d been duped and climbed back into his car.
