Beretta (MC#1)

Chapter 4- Her

I'm dead.

I know it.

And as I lay on the sweat drenched mat, once again having been handed my ass, I can't help but want to die. It's better than being subjected to this violent torture.

"Again!", his voice booms across the empty gym and I reluctantly haul myself from my sprawled state using the side ropes of the professional boxing ring.

An ill-timed punch and several directionless kicks later I'm once again in my previous position and quite frankly I'll gladly stay here for the rest of my surely miserable life.

I stare at the too bright ceiling lights, my chest heaving fast to the point where it's almost painful. Great. The one place it didn't hurt. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Again, Rose", why doesn't he look at least a little out of breath? This is useless. And it's not working.

"I need a minute", I choke out with great difficulty. He makes a face that lets me know exactly how much of a failure I am to him. I'm sure he's told that to me verbally no more than 10 times in the last 3 hours we've been in the ring.

"I think that's enough for today, son," Nona to the rescue, "Let the poor girl have some rest and that's in no way a request" , stern-faced, straight-backed and her chin tipped up against the most dangerous man around, Nona is a sight to admire.

"She's not progressing at the rate she's supposed to be. She needs more practice", Hell no, I can't. But obviously no one says that to the man in front of me. The fucking Reaper himself. I don't think he even knows what it means.

"No," except Nona of course, "Go to your room, Rose"

No need to tell me twice, I silently rise from the floor and without a glance at either of them I'm out of the room. I take a step on the wooden staircase and halt.

Out of curiosity of course. Because they're both talking about me.

"She's only 17 and you're too hard on her. This way she'll never progress well. You need to let her see her progress herself. Better yet, you need to tell her how much better she's doing now", huh? I can't even land a solid punch. What fucking progress.

"Nona, you don't understand. She's my secret weapon. The one who's supposed to be there for the clu-", I'm quick to leave as soon as the thud of his boots approaches the door. Don't want to be caught eavesdropping like last time and run laps until sunrise.

Secret weapon, my ass. I muse to myself a grab some clothes before rushing to the bathroom. Mostly because I don't want to face him and see the disappointment in his eyes.

It's almost an hour later while I'm drying my hair, when he knocks on my door and peaks his head in, surprising the hell out of me. He's never come to my room.

"You wanna go out for a ride and ice-cream?", now I don't speak for a solid minute and stare at him like a dumb idiot. He's definitely never done that before. He raises an impatient eyebrow and me rushing for my precious leather is all the answer he needs.

"Be quick", which means he'll be waiting in the garage and I better not keep him waiting long.

Faster than it takes one to pee I'm skipping towards the garage. Giddy with excitement I wave at Nona before jumping on my beast, bringing it to life. I caress the maroon matte paint on my birthday gift lovingly.

Harley Davidson Road king, the black letters imbedded in the side read. I run my fingers over it in greeting.

And I'm once again set aflame by the mere vibrations of the engine beneath me. The sheer power of it reminds me why it is named the road king.