The Night Vigilante

XV. Grace

Grace-

            “We’re not going to baby you,” Salem tells me lowly as we walk through the dark halls, me trying to hasten my step to catch up with him.

            “Good,” I say truthfully.

            He glances back slightly, his lips set in a grim line.

            “We’ll see what you’re saying with a bloody lip.”

            I am silent after that, the intense desire to prove him wrong in my bones.

            When we emerge from the dark hall into the center of the building, a large rink taking up all of my attention, I falter slightly.

            To the left, a row of dummy’s are lined and nearby are punching bags close to targets with an array of knives next to them.

            “You’ll be learning how to fight first,” Salem tells me, nudging his chin back to the rink where Christine is now standing, her fiery hair loose.

            She stares passively at me, her stance loose, like she’s done this a million times.

            I turn back to Salem. “Aren’t you going to teach me how to properly punch or something before throwing me into the rink?”

            “I want to see what you can do before I train you.”

            I look back at Christine, my blood running cold. “You already know how this is going to end. She is a trained vigilante and I am-“

            “Are you scared? Because if you are, you might as well leave now, I don’t have time to waste on you,” Salem tells me, emotionless.

            Let’s not be stupid here, I remind myself, so what if I walk away with a bruised ego, I’ll be alive.

            Despite thinking about doing the smart thing, I find myself heading for the rink, my palms sweating.

            The edges of Christine’s lips upturn into a smirk and I heave a steady breath, the soles of my feet padding against the rink.

            The artificial light beats strong above us and I can already feel myself sweating as I hold up my arms similar to the way I’ve seen people do in the movies.

            She does the same, her position loose and relaxed and our eyes meet.

            And then she’s flying.

            I feel the solid snap of her fist on my cheek and I reel back, throwing up my arms around my face to try and block but she takes the opportunity to do a blow to my rib.

            I double over and she kicks me on the side, make me hit the floor hard.

            She raises her foot to kick and I roll away, my arms up, my breaths heavy.

            She was everywhere.

            I didn’t stand a chance.

            When she tries to kick me again, I grab onto her leg, twisting as hard as I can but she only falls, her body slamming down onto mine.

            The air leaves my lungs and I can’t breathe.

            I was done.

            Tell her you give up my mind screams at me as she grabs onto my arm, twisting.

            I scream, my cheek rubbing against the hard padded floor of the rink and through my tears, I can see him standing by the door, his eyes hard.

            “Give up girly,” Christine mutters by my arm.

            Cole stares at me hard, waiting for me-for what I don’t know but I almost expect him to intervene.

            He doesn’t.

            My arm that is still bandaged is pressing into the ground and it takes all my will power to twist onto my back, the intense fear of Christine snapping my arm in the back of my mind and I bring up my other fist, punching her straight in the nose.

            There’s a small crunch- not enough to break her nose but enough to make her bleed.

            She let’s go of me slightly and I punch at her throat.

            By the time I manage to half drag myself away, she’s recuperated her eyes zeroing in on me.

            Fear shoots down my spine, her eyes murderous as she lunges for me.

            She’s going to kill me I think to myself as I throw my hands up, blindly punching her back as she picks up my body and literally tosses me.

            The burning sensation that then runs up my side is unbearable-so much I can’t even pick myself up again as she approaches me, running the back of her hand across her bloody nose.

            Get up.

            Get up.

            “That’s enough,” I hear him say, his voice ringing through my ears as I see him swing himself into the rink through my blurry vision.

            He grabs onto Christine’s arm, wrenching her back, her teeth bared as she stares at me.

            “You should’ve called it earlier, you know she’s not prepared for this,” Cole says to Salem, strangely calm as he nudges Christine out of the rink.

            She tears her arm away from his grip, stalking angrily away and Cole follows her, never looking back at me.

            My head spins and I find it hard to peel myself off of the floor, my arms aching.

            I stare at Salem and he stares back at me, his arms crossed and his eyes hard but there’s something new in them.

            A flicker of respect.

            And even as he turns away, leaving me alone in the big room, I can feel a small ounce of relief that I didn’t give up, that I didn’t surrender to her.

            ~*~