The Gang Girl

Chapter 12- The princess and the paramedic

Thunk.

I've been home over a month and after that night, the basement gym and training room has become my solitude.

Thunk. Thunk.

I won't break his promise again. Never again.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Down here I can think about what happened without the pain consuming me. Down here makes me concentrate more on not killing the people around me rather than the pain threatening to consume me.

I reach down to throw another of my black throwing knives and grasp at the fabric of my knife holster.

I huff in irritation and walk over the to targets and pull the knives out rather easily seeing as they're all nestled into the target in basically the same spot. I slip them into the holster strapped around the top of my thigh and pull my gun out of where it had been tucked into the back of my jeans, just like they do in the movies.

I turn the safety off as I'm walking to the small shooting range we have and take to the target stationed in front of me.

Bang.

In the head. Fatal.

Bang, bang.

Through and through, straight in the heart. Fatal.

Bang.

In the stomach. Semi-fatal. Fatal if major organ/s are hit.

Bang.

Leg. Fatal if a major artery is hit. The person will bleed and bleed with each pumping of their heart. Ironically enough, the thing that keeps them alive will kill them.

Humans really are the ultimate irony.

"You're pretty good, you know that right?" A voice pipes up behind me, startling me.

I whirl around and aim my gun at the person who decided it would be a good idea to sneak up on an armed gang girl.

"Woah there, Lexi. Point that thing else-where." Ivan chuckles, holding his hands up in a mock surrender.

I put the safety back on and tuck the gun back into the back of my pants.

"You're either very stupid and have no sense of self-preservation or you're very confident you'll be able to avoid me shooting you at close range." I say, tilting my head sideways and taking note of how much the guy has changed since we were kids.

Blonde hair, cut in a sexy military style, sparkling blue eyes, lightly tanned skin, common for us of Russian descent. Over 6 foot, strong, lean build. Very handsome.

"You know, that was always your thing as a child. Calling us either stupid or confident. Looks like some things haven't changed." He smiles at me.

"Good to know." I mumble, stalking past him to where my water bottle is sitting on a bench next to the door.

"You're very touchy, you know that right? Much different from the bubbly little girl I grew up with." He points out.

"You snuck up on gang girl that has 10 throwing knives strapped to her body, was shooting an armed gun and is trained in four martial arts, who is also being chased by people hell bent on killing her. So sorry if I'm a little touchy." I say after swallowing a mouthful of water.

"You aren't very keen on letting people in, are you." It wasn't a question, so I just stay silent watching him come closer.

I will slap you if you step back.

My conscience tells me very matter-of-factly.

Is that so?

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and randomly pulls me in for a hug.

"Ivan? What are you doing? Have you gone mad?" I ask, struggling to decide whether or not I should hug him back.

"This is the first time I've seen my training buddy since you left. I hate to say it but your princess-ness grew on me." He says and I laugh and return his hug.

"I almost forgot you were my training partner. Are you still a jerk that thinks girls have cooties? Because your jerk personality in training is what pushed me to be better than you. So it's now your own fault that I'm a better fighter." I tease, reaching up and tugging on the short hair on the back of his neck.

"Owww." He complains, pulling back and rubbing the back of his head.

"Aww poor baby, did that hurt?" I coo, reaching out, making a show of rubbing the back of his head before smacking it.

"You, my friend, are a bitch." He say pointing a finger at me.

"At least I didn't think the opposite gender had cooties when I was 12."

"I did not!"

"Did too"

"Didn't."

"Did."
"Didn't."

"Did."

We can continue to argue as we walk out of the gym and upstairs to my room.

"Hey Ivan, I'll go shower and than we can do whatever you want... Not in a sexual way, you weirdo." I say hastily as he raises an eyebrow at me.