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Last night I was too shocked to react, but in the early hours of the morning, my heartache made space for anger.
It didn’t feel good slapping him, but it restored some of my wounded pride. Now he knows I won’t take his shit.
No matter how scary he is.
Walking into the studio where combat training takes place, the class is already in full swing.
Dammit!
There are four other students paired up and practicing fighting stances.
Instructor Nikolai doesn’t even look our way as he continues with the lesson.
“We’re in trouble,” Abbie whispers, a too wide smile on her face.
We quickly move closer and try to copy what the others are doing.
They’re all taking up fighting stances, and I position my legs slightly apart, bending at the knee. Then one of us has to punch while the other blocks.
Abbie and I punch at the same time, and it has her letting out a burst of laughter.
Instructor Nikolai slowly walks closer to us, not looking impressed at all.
“First, you disrespect me by being late, then you’re disruptive in class,” he murmurs, his tone sounding deadly as hell.
I swallow hard on the nervousness tightening my stomach. “I’m sorry.”
“It was just five minutes,” Abbie states. “And I wasn’t aware we were not allowed to laugh.”
Jesus, help me with this girl.
I try to give her a look, silently telling her to stop, but her eyes are locked on Instructor Nikolai.
He nods, then stares at her until I feel awkward for the both of us.
“It seems I first have to train you in the seriousness of combat,” Nikolai says. He gestures at one of the attendees, then at me. “The two of you will fight.”
What?
I can’t fight to save my life!
My wide eyes lock on Abbie as she argues, “It’s unfair for a man to fight a woman.”
Nikolai lets out a chuckle as he points toward an open mat. “There’s no such thing as fairness in our world, Miss Sartori.” His eyes flick from me to the guy. “Fight or leave my class.”
Shit.
Abbie realizes the shitty position she’s gotten me into and asks, “Why Aurora? Why not me?”
The corner of Nikolai’s mouth lifts. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
He nods at the guy and me, warning tightening his features.
He’ll probably kick me out of the class if I don’t fight, and I can’t embarrass my father like that.
My stomach churns with nerves as I walk to the mat.
Crap, I don’t even know how to start this fight. Do we shake hands? Do I glare at the guy?
