Hunter

Vetting one of the fearsome three

Hunter

Gail and I returned to the same spot in the park and waited for Jordan to show up. Having Gail made me seem less creepy. We played the happy couple so people didn't become suspicious of our activities.

"Tell me again why we're waiting for one person," Gail said, scanning the area.

"Mason has his reasons." I shrugged.

"That's not helpful whatsoever."

"I learned not to question Mason."

Gail glanced at me but didn't push the topic.

A few minutes, I spotted Jordan. He was walking the pathway, looking around the park. That made him suspicious of his surroundings. He didn't interact with anyone, making him a loner. He had a tense posture, which made me guarded.

Jordan saw me and approached me with an attitude. "I'm here."

"I see." I crossed my arms across my chest.

"Are we going to stand around comparing dick sizes? Or are you going to teach me how to fight?"

"I'll teach you how to land a dead punch." I held up my hand and pointed at my palm.

Jordan threw a punch at my hand. His control was sloppy, leaving him open for someone to attack him. I showed him how to guard his body while landing a punch. He practiced it a few times until I showed him other self-defense moves.

Jordan wiped his brow while breathing heavily.

"You need to work on landing a punch before anyone reacts. You leave yourself wide open when you hit first. It gives your opponent an advantage."

"So, what do I do?"

"Practice the punch until you perfect it."

"You make it sound so easy."

"When you're fighting to survive, it is easy. Not everyone gives a shit about you."

Jordan looked at me but didn't flinch. He had immense control with someone filled with rage. It would make him a deadly weapon and perfect for Mason's plan.

********
Jordan

After meeting Hunter again, I found an old sparring bag, hung it up in the garage, and drew a bullseye on it. I practiced until I could land a direct hit. I didn't realize that Hunter was right. When I hit the bag, it left me open for my opponent.

I worked on my technique, protecting myself. With each hit, my knuckles became bloody. I embraced the pain to channel my hits. Since my dad didn't come out to the garage, I used this to work on my punches. I also pictured the football team as I slammed my fist into the bag. I hated the entries fucking team and school.

A few more years, and I was leaving and never looking back.

*****
Hunter

I reported to Mason and informed him about my findings on the Shaw kid.

"Interesting," Mason said, leaning back in his desk chair.

"Mason, Jordan has a lot of rage fueling him. But he contains it with immense self-control. He doesn't trust anyone."

"Not yet, but he will with the right people."

I nodded, stood up, and left Mason's office to pack a bag. I prefer to travel light when Mason assigned me a task. I armed myself with a knife and gun before heading downstairs to find Carrington waiting for me. Great.

"Are you going to behave, or will I need to shoot you again?" Carrington asked me.

"Shoot me, and I break every bone in your body."