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“You’re telling the truth?”
“Yes. I am.”
Father doesn’t reply right away. He’s making me sweat this out—see if I’ll crack. When he finally responds, it’s full of iciness. “Well, you need to make sure if he ever says something to you about Franco or me, you report it back to me immediately. Understood?”
“Yes, Father. Understood.”
“Good.” He hangs up without a goodbye.
My phone drops from my hand and lands on the floor with a clatter. I’m shaking all over. Things are coming together; Antonio going after Franco, my father and Franco wanting him dead—and me, caught in the middle. My father is clearly running out of patience.
I need to kill Antonio soon and fast.
I go to the cupboard and push the cornmeal out of the way. The vial of poison is just sitting there, waiting to be used. But I can’t get my hand to reach for it.
Instead, I push the cornmeal back into position and close the cabinet, unable to contemplate the reality that I have to kill Antonio.
I jump when Antonio enters the apartment. He’s sometimes so silent that I don’t even hear him. Years of fight training, I guess. That gives me an idea …
I approach Antonio as he’s taking off his jacket and shoes. “I want you to teach me how to fight.”
He blinks, stunned silent for a moment, before he smiles. “Really? You want to learn how to fight? Why?”
Because I need to kill you. “Because I think it would be a good skill to have.”
Antonio shrugs. “Can’t argue with that.” He kisses me on the lips. “All right. When do you want to start?”
“Can we start now?”
* * *
Antonio takesme to a boxing gym, where huge, muscular men are pounding into punching bags. Grunts and growls are the only sound in the huge room. I feel so out of place in my yoga pants and tank top. My arms look like twigs compared to all the men’s arms.
“The first thing I learned when I starting training was how to punch someone. It’s a good skill to have in case you find yourself in a tough spot,” Antonio explains as he takes me to a punching bag.
A man at the closest bag looks at us, smirking like he thinks it’s funny a woman like me would be in a boxing gym. Honestly, I kind of want to punch him myself. I guess Antonio is onto something.
Antonio hands me boxing gloves. The smallest ones the gym has, I notice. “All right.” He slips on his own boxing gloves and stands before me. “Try punching my hands.” He holds them up, standing in a bent-leg position.
“Ok.” I take in a deep breath and swing. My gloved hand connects with his glove in a simple punch.
Antonio nods. “Good. But try using more force behind your throw. Stand like this.” He bends his knees. “You want bounce in your legs. You don’t want to be locked out.”
I do as he instructs, and this time, my punch has more power to it. I smile wide. “Wow. I feel … powerful.”
“As you should. Being able to defend yourself in a fight is something my dad taught me.” Antonio’s smile dims slightly. “It’s really the only good memories I have of him. We bonded a lot when he was teaching me how to fight.”
“You must miss him.”
“Every damn day. But enough about my dad. Let’s practice some more punches before we move on to defensive moves.”
After spending around fifteen minutes of pure punching into Antonio’s gloves, we finally move on. I’m sweating like crazy. “Do we really have to repeat so many moves?”
“It’s the best way to make sure you learn muscle memory when fighting. Now, I’m going to teach you how to get out of a hold if someone grabs you from behind.” He stands behind me and wraps his arms around my shoulders and neck. My skin tingles at his touch. Even though Antonio and I are sweaty, the urge to be with him again is so strong, it’s almost scary. I never knew someone could encompass me the way Antonio has.
He teaches me how to get out of this hold by brining my elbow back and landing a solid hit to my attacker’s stomach. I do as he says but I hold back.
“You have to really hit me, Nina. If someone were attacking you, you couldn’t hold back.”
