The Forgotten One

Chapter 8 - One Fight Too Many

"Elbows up!" Mace yells to Milla, who hastily readjusts her arms and blocks a punch from him.

I lean against a wall, cradling my chest carefully to prevent hurting my ribs.

I watch on as Milla and Mace spar, taking and giving punches and kicks as they fight. Caroline is sitting down next to me, scribbling furiously in a notebook.

I glance down at her.

"What are ya drawing, Caro?" I ask her.

She swivels her head up suddenly, startled.

"Oh, I'm writing a poem."

I raise my eyebrows.

"Really? For school?" I question and she shakes her head.

"No. Just because I want to."

I frown.

"Can I read it?"

She opens her mouth to protest, but I stick my hand out in front of her face.

"Gimme."

She rolls her eyes and sighs, passing the book up to me. I smooth out the page of the poem and squint to read the cursive writing.

I get knocked over.

They do not care about me.

But now I fight back.

I raise my eyebrows at the 3 lines and flick my gaze back down to Caro, handing her back the notebook.

"Should I be concerned?" I say mock-earnestly and she slaps her book against my leg, scoffing. I hide my wince as I shove her shoulder gently and she giggles lightly.

Smiling, I look back over at the other two and see Mace deliver a hard punch to Milla's jaw, knocking her down.

My smile fades and I lean off of the wall, curling my fists. "Gentle." I bark at Mace.

He flicks me a glance.

"She's not going to learn if it's not similar to the real thing. If it isn't, she won't be prepared and the result will be worse." He contradicts and I glare at his pretty-boy face.

His brown eyes, red hair, thick brows and freckles give him a sharp and unique appearance, which also allowed him to get anything he wanted.

I should know, I was letting him beat up my sister.

Flinching, I lean tentatively back against the wall. When I put it that way, my perspective was seriously twisted and dark.

Mace was also older than us, about 19, and I wanted to knock him out real hard when he smirked at me, apparently coming to the realization that I knew he was correct in this situation.

Regardless of how pissed off he made me, he was right in fighting properly.

I snarl.

"Fine."

Mace turns back towards Milla and extends a hand to help her back up. She takes it and gets hefted up, Mace drawing her slightly into the line of his body.

She gazes up at him, adoration in her eyes.

He even had the audacity to smile back down at her, the bastard.

"Get back to training!" I bark and I am ignored for another second as Mace runs a lingering finger down Milla's cheekbone, caressing.

He was also deliberately trying to work me up; he flicks me a side-long glance, amusement twinkling in his eyes.