Allégro

Chapter 05: What They Signed Up For

          Fire engulfed my lungs as I dodge yet another one of my Uncle's jabs. Even though practice gloves are softer the fists, you still don't want to get hit in the face by one. I swipe my tongue over my lips, wetting the dry cracking skin.

          The soon-to-be autumn air smells of the lavender from Aunt Vic's garden. It's a wonder how she managed to keep her plants from drying out in the heat the past few days. Then again, Aunt Vic spends a considerable amount of time tending to said plants.

          "Arms up, Emryn," Instructs Uncle Jax. I lift my arms until they are effectively blocking my face while refraining from sending a glare his way. "Where's your head at today?"

          It's been two days since Aunt Vic had her whole 'we love you' moment at the foot of my bed. Two days since Uncle Jax said we would talk about the selling of the farm–which we haven't. Every time I bring it up, either he or Aunt Vic changes the subject.

          Uncle Jax has also increased our training time. Over the past two days, he's been pointing out every flaw in my form–and I mean every flaw. Not to mention he's cut my ballet time in half which means I hardly get to see Liam anymore.

          Uncle Jax sends two more jabs my way, bringing me back to the task at hand. I block them with my forearms only for a flurry of movement in my peripheral vision to catch my attention.

          My eyes flicker to my left where I see Aunt Vic, dressed in her gardening clothes, set her dingy metal watering can on the ground before taking a seat on the lawn chair. She crosses a leg over the other and tugs at the fingers of her gardening gloves before resting her arms on her knee.

          "You don't have to watch, you know," I call out over my mouth guard, keeping my eyes on Uncle Jax's practice gloves. The red bandana holding my Aunt's hair out of her face contrasts against her jet-black curls.

          "I want to see how far you've come," She says, her proud smile evident in her voice. I opened my mouth to reply when Uncle Jax sent an unexpanded jab to my shoulder. I let out a hiss, removing my mouth guard.

          "I wasn't ready," I snapped, dropping my fighting stance and bringing a hand to my aching shoulder.

          "Let that be a lesson then," He replies. In his eyes, there's no hint of his usual playfulness. Instead, it's all seriousness–cold and unnerving. "You can't ever be distracted, Emryn. You have to be quick on your feet and able to make decisions at the drop of a hat. You must always be ready. No exceptions."

          "Uncle Jax, what is this–" Before I could finish my sentence, Uncle Jax took hold of my arm and pulled  me into his body, all in one fluid motion. My back collided with his chest as he wrapped an arm securely around my neck, applying firm pressure.

          "With a lot more pressure, if this hold is done correctly, you have approximately nine seconds before you are unconscious," Uncle Jax mutters in my ear. "How do you break my hold, Ryn?"

          "What?"

          "How do you get out," He questions sharply.

          I feel myself start to panic as the pressure to my neck starts to affect my breathing. "I don't know."

          "Let her go, Jax," Aunt Vic says from her lawn chair. "She said she doesn't know."

          "Think, Emryn."

          I rack my brain, but the only thing I can think about is the fact that breathing is starting to get increasingly more difficult. I tilt my head toward his chin, tugging at his elbow as my mind scatters–making it difficult to form a coherent thought. "I–I don't know."

          Aunt Vic is now standing from her seat, an unnatural amount of authority coating her tone as she shouts, "Jaxon Montgomery!"

          At this, Uncle Jax releases me. I scramble away from him and into Aunt Vic's open arms. Taking my chin, she tilts my head toward the sky–checking for forming bruises. When she finds none, she levels her eyes on my Uncle–who is tearing off his practice gloves.

          "Living room. Now." She states, the same amount of authority coating her tone. Not only that, but there's a certain fire behind her eyes as she looks at my Uncle–one that's never been there before.

          Uncle Jax tosses his gloves to the side before following Aunt Vic in the house, pulling the sliding glass door closed behind him. Bringing my hand to my throat, I watch as a heated conversation takes place between my guardians.

          "Rough training, I take it." I hear Liam say taking up the space beside me.

          "Something like that," I reply, turning to face him. "What are you doing here? Uncle Jax canceled ballet today, remember?"

          "Yes, but my dad's ballet studio in town is going to be empty for the night. I came to see if you wanted to squeeze in a late-night practice."

          A large part of me wanted to say yes–to get in Liam's dusty red chevy and drive off the property. The realistic part of me knew I had to ask Aunt Vic and Uncle Jax before I could go, but they'd only say no and claim 'it's too late' or 'you've got early training in the morning'.

          "I've got to ask my Aunt and Uncle," I say, giving in to the realistic part of me. I turn to face the house to see Aunt Vic with her arms folded across her chest, her jaw set the way it does when she strongly disagrees with something. Uncle Jax is speaking, gesturing toward the backyard. I turn to Liam once again. "Give me a second."

          I start toward the glass sliding door. Their muffled voices grow louder the closer I get, becoming just audible through the glass.

          "She is nineteen, Jaxon." Aunt Vic states, angrier than I've ever seen her. "She's not like them. She hasn't had to learn the things they learn as fast as they learn them."

          "She can no longer afford not to know these things," Uncle Jax snaps. "They aren't going to take it easy out there, especially not for her. This is what we signed up for."

          Aunt Vic shook her head. "No. I signed up to protect her with my life, not send her to be bait for the rest of hers."

          "She's their daughter, Victoria. Not yours, not mine,'' declares Uncle Jax, frustration clear on his rugged features. The sharpness of his tone has me stopping in my tracks. He's never used this tone with anyone, especially not with Aunt Vic. They are usually always at an understanding with each other. "We did our job. At this point, sending her to Rivercrest is the best thing for her."

          My heart dropped to my stomach.

          "So, you aren't selling the farm," I state, earning both my guardian's attention. I couldn't hide the hurt I was feeling as a sense of numbness and disbelief  took over my entire body. "You're just sending me away."

          "Wait, Ryn," My Aunt started, tugging the glass door open the rest of the way. Before she could continue, I turned on my heel and started for Liam. I don't want to hear what she has to say. Nothing she could possibly say could make this okay–make this hurt less. "Emryn."

          Halfway across the lawn, I feel a firm hand wrap around my bicep. I whirl around, yanking my arm from my Uncle's grip. "Ryn, stop."

          "Why?" I question, on the verge of tears. "Why take care of me for nineteen years only to send me away now?"

          "We aren't sending you away," Uncle Jax states.

          "That's not what I heard," I say, turning to face Liam. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I say, "Let's go."