“Shut up. Teach me to fight.” I cut him off.
“Now that I can do. Let’s go.” A real smile seems to appear at the corner of his mouth.
I’ve lost everything. I’m done losing people without fighting back.
“Lexi, I know how you feel… I’ve lost a lot too. It might not seem like it, but I miss Dad.” Keegan puts a hand on my shoulder.
A tear trickles down, but I wipe it away. My father loved me deeply. He never yelled but always treated me with dignity and quiet respect. I never went to bed without a hug and kiss from him. Every night the last thing he would tell me was, “Remember, you can overcome anything short of death. I love you.”
“I lost you, I never wanted to leave you, but it was a choice I had to make. Can’t you see that? Sometimes we all have to make sacrifices.”
I wipe my tear away and shrug off his arm. “I don’t hate you for leaving… I understand now why you left. But as for sacrifices, I’ve made enough.”
He looks into my face. “What can I do to make it up to you? Besides the obvious.”
I take a deep, painful breath. “Get me the hell out of here.”
He reaches out his hands. I take them, and he gives me a strained smile. “Then let’s get started. It’s time you learned how to fight.”
His words make me cringe. I close my eyes and remember Cole’s face when I told him Bruno was teaching me. He was so accepting of it, so understanding about why I wanted to learn. Yet he didn’t want me to fight for the one thing I hold most dear.
“I started learning some already,” I say while pulling on my boots.
“From who?”
“Bruno,”
“He allowed that?”
I can tell whom Keegan means by the way he says his name.
“Yes, Cole did.” My fingers pull the laces tight as I say his name.
“Well, I’m sure it was just simple stuff like self-defense moves. That won’t help you in the least in this. You’ll learn the hard stuff now.”
I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean the hard stuff?”
“Like how to kill people,” he says in a nonchalant manner.
I raise my eyebrow with skepticism.
“I know what you’re thinking, but guards aren’t people.” I give him an indignant look. “Well, most of them anyway. They’re animals,” he says. “Channel all your anger into your training. It gets easier as you do it. Believe me.”
His words reflect his cocky ignorance, but I refuse to get into an argument with him. After all, he’s had to survive here a lot longer than I have and has probably seen worse things. Maybe.
“Now get focused and put these on.” Keegan throws worn wraps on my bed. “We train for two hours in the morning and three in the evening. If you want to fight, these sessions are mandatory.” His tone demands obedience and I get the feeling he’s used to having orders followed.
“Wait.”
“You changed your mind?”
“No, not about that, but I wanted to ask you if you could get me paint?”
“What are you talking about? You want paint?”
“Yes, I need to paint. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s like my therapy.”
He gives me a funny look and sighs. “Whatever, if it helps you get over what’s-his-face. I’ll get you paint.”
I exhale and pull myself upright. I feel numb, detached from the world. I don’t care if the whole place caves in at this rate. I just can’t shake the disparity of my situation. Cole is gone. Why couldn’t Keegan let him stay in another part of the compound? Or trust me.
I stand in front of the mirror and pull my greasy hair into a bun. Then I wrap my hands the same way Bruno taught me. They’re so tight the blood flow is partially cut off to my fingers. I shake my arms and legs out to relax myself. I can do this. It’s just a couple of hours.
*
A blow to my cheekbone rouses me.
“Come on, Lexi, you’re getting your ass kicked,” Keegan shouts across the room.
I rub my face in surprise. A girl dances across from me with her fists raised. She’s taller, with straight black hair and a nasty glare. She hits me with a hook on the side of my head.
I groan.
“Protect yourself!” he yells at me again.
I won’t be humiliated anymore. Focus. Just focus. I jab and then hit her with an uppercut right in the sweet spot, and she stumbles backward.
“Better!” Keegan claps.
We do push-ups every ten minutes. We run sprints to warm up and run sprints to cool down. In the mornings, I learn hand-to-hand combat, and in the evenings, we go through weapons training in an indoor range.
When Keegan hands me a gun, my hand shakes so much that I don’t hit anything near the target. Last time I attempted shooting, it was to save Cole and Bruno. It’s not as easy when I have to think about it.
Keegan stands behind me as I try again and seems agitated by my lack of focus. He hands me a smaller pistol. “Here, use this one. It’s more your size.”
“What kind is it?”