Fighting the Fall ✔

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Dustin King

I was fifteen minutes late when I walked into the gym. On the way there, I'd braced myself for two possibilities: one, I'd get a talking to. Two, he might have decided to call it a night. I wouldn't have been surprised, nor would I have blamed him, if he'd gone home instead of waiting for me. But someone was there, I figured, because the door was unlocked and the lights were on.

I set my backpack on the floor against the wall and walked in further. "Coach?"

I heard movement from the other side of the building, faint shuffling sounds and a wheeled chair rolling back. Then the door opened. Coach Dunst stormed out of his office, heading straight for me. I instinctively took a step back.

"What am I training you for?" He glared a good several inches down at me when he reached me. He couldn't have been standing more than seven away from me. I struggled to meet his eyes. "Hm? What the heck am I training you for?!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Coach. I--"

"This is not about your being late, Dustin."

A shot of fear struck my heart. I met his eyes then. Did he discover my involvement with the underground matches?

"Am I training you to go around breaking jaws like it's nothing?" he asked. "Am I training you to become a criminal? Is that what this is to you? A criminal training camp?!"

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about Tristan at the party. I sighed.

He backed up and turned away, running a hand through his hair. Then he turned back to me. "You see these, Dustin?" Coach Dunst held up his fists. "These right here are weapons." Grabbing my right hand and closing it into a fist, he added, "This is a weapon. They're not to be used so carelessly!" My hand fell back to my side when he released it. "I wouldn't have expected this from you, Dustin. You of all people." He shook his head, pursing his lips. I was left to wonder what he meant, how much he knew by that last comment. "I'm giving you a minute to explain yourself. Then I want you to go home, think things over, and meet me back here next week. I don't want to hear about another incident in that time. Do you understand? If I do, you can find somewhere else to train. That's not what I teach here."

I nodded. "Yes, Coach. I... um, my friend... He needed help. Tristan was beating him up, and I tried to get him to stop but it angered him further and he came at me."

Coach sighed, rubbing his chin. He was silent for a moment. I took it as my queue to leave.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed for the door, stopping only when he called my name.

"Your friend is lucky to have you." He nodded. "I'll see you next week."

--

I wasn't sure what I was doing back on our street just yet. I hadn't had a chance to come up with some excuse as to why I'd need to spend another night at Josh's, and Dad hadn't texted to tell me to come back home. I wasn't sure he would after what happened last time. Perhaps it was force of habit that brought me there.

As I got closer to the house, I heard an all too familiar sound.

"McKenna?" I went around the Mustang and found her sitting on the steps in front of the door. Her face was buried in her hands, into which she sobbed. Bishop was beside her. He looked up at me, but only for a second before turning his attention back to our sister. He whispered something in her ear.

"I didn't mean to," McKenna said, her voice muffled by her hands. She shook her head. "I didn't mean to."

My heart was racing. I knelt in front of her, softly saying her name in an effort not to startle her. She wouldn't respond to me. I turned to Bishop. "What happened?" As soon as the question left my mouth, he burst into tears. "McKenna, talk to me." My little sister peeked at me through her fingers. I drew in a slow breath when I caught a glimpse of red. "Oh, McKenna." I sighed, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close.