Suicide Mission (Guarded Secrets #1)

12: "What's your tattoo?"

Damon led me to Rum's training room after the meeting, as he was instructed to do, to find her mediating in the center of the room. Damon had told me Rum didn't like to be disturbed while training, and now I was curious if mediating counted as training for her. If it did, I certainly didn't want to interrupt her because I would receive the wrong end of her anger if I did. The punishment could be anything, but I didn't want to push my luck and make her angry with me. I cautiously walked in, worried that I would interrupt her focus or shatter her intentions by coming in.

Slowly I made my way into the room and waited close by her. I stood there for a few moments in the room, unsure if she heard me enter or not, and trying not to breath too loudly. I had hoped she would stop when I entered and talk to me, but clearly that wasn't going to happen. Should I speak up or let her mediate longer? I asked myself. I was about to clear my throat when she spoke up suddenly.

"Stretch until I tell you to stop," she ordered without moving her position. I wasn't even sure she opened her eyes or twitched while she barked the order, but I didn't say a word to her as I started to stretch. I lifted my foot behind me and grabbed it with my hand to stretch my quadriceps. I held each side for thirty seconds, making sure not to bounce or move around a lot, before I moved into a different position. I moved to stretch my hamstrings and calves, then eventually made it up to my shoulders until I ran out of ideas and sat on the floor waiting for her to be done.

"Did I tell you to stop?" Rum asked. She didn't even turn her head to look at me, so how did she know I even stopped? Maybe I had decided to sit on the floor to stretch, I thought sarcastically to myself. I sighed, there was no point in starting a fight with her, she caught me and I just had to be honest.

"No, but I don't know what else I could do. I've run out of—"

"Your answer was no; I didn't tell you to stop. That means keep stretching, and don't stop until I tell you to this time."

I sighed heavily unable to hold in my displeasure as I moved to continue stretching. I wish there was music to listen to, I thought as continued to stretch the same muscles I had done before. For concentration, I assume, Rum had no music playing. It was completely silent, so quiet at times I could hear others talking in the hallways while I stretched. It was distracting to how quiet it was, I was focusing more on the sounds then I was on stretching. I had gone through the routine for the fourth time when Rum finally told me to join her. I moved to sit down next to her and, in an attempt to mimic her posture and position, I almost fell over. I was about to ask what she wanted me to do now, but I noticed a black mark on her shoulder. It looked like a scroll tattoo, but the markings were completely indecipherable to me.

"What's your tattoo?" I caught myself asking before I could stop the words from escaping my mouth. "It's five lines of the Hah Taew Yant," Rum said with a soft sigh.

I wasn't sure if it was a part of her mediation or if she was annoyed with my question.

"Each of the five lines of the Hah Taew Yant can carry a different meaning, it is capable of bestowing various benefits to the wearer depending on the Sak Yant Master, who is the person that does the tattoo, and the wishes of the recipient. It is a powerful and sacred blessing bestowed on the wearer and in order to receive the full powers the Yant is given to a Buddhist Monk."

"So you're Buddhist?" I asked curiously. She knew a lot of information about her tattoo, and she was probably telling me all of it so I would stop asking questions. I was sure by now my questions were annoying her, but I continued through my curiosity until she answered.

"Does my religion matter?" she asked curtly as she lifted an eyebrow.

"No, not at all," I said quickly, hoping I didn't offend her by accident. "Why do you have a tattoo, does everyone here have one here?" I asked trying to remember if Mark or Damon had a tattoo. I couldn't think that either had one, but I guess it could be somewhere I wouldn't think to look or they could hide it under their clothes. I hadn't ever looked for one, but I liked to think I would have noticed if it was visible.