xviii. training

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A fist headed straight for my neck, but I blocked it with my elbow, grasping the hand punching my opponent underneath his arm, right below his ribs. He grunted, but his smile grew as he kicked my legs, causing me to buckle. I took it as an opportunity to roll away from his body and ended up right behind him, taking his neck underneath my elbow, feeling the protruding veins throb against my bare arm, my other hand pressed to a pressure point right between his bare collarbone and shoulders, my much shorter legs wrapped around his waist since it was the only way I could reach my arms around his frame.

I smirked. "Please tell me you're going easy on me."

Oliver's chest vibrated underneath my hold as he laughed. "A little cocky, aren't we?"

Abruptly, he used his incredible upper body strength to pull me over his body; I saw it coming. Instead of falling, I landed on my feet in front of him, kicking his stomach, placed a hand on his chest, my elbow headed straight for his chin, a move that would've knocked any man out with impact. I stopped just before my arm made contact with his face, watching his eyes widening, glistening with pride.

"Not bad," he nodded as I lowered my arm, giving him a high-five. "Glad you haven't lost your touch, but I totally would've won that one."

I laughed and took the two towels that were on the railing, tossed one to Oliver, and began wiping away the sweat that had formed after constant combat training. Fighting with him was always my favorite, mainly because he never went easy on me. He knew how much I could take, and just what I was capable of.

I grunted as I took a sip from a bottle of water. "Mhm, look who's cocky now."

My eyes scanned the dimly lit room, grazing over Lucy and Thomas working out nearby, weights in their hands as their bodies glistened with sweat. Thomas had been watching me fight Oliver, and his hungry stare was getting on my nerves, especially the way that it would linger on my bare abdomen and legs. Lucas was missing from the scene, and finally, my eyes landed on Silas, who'd been sitting nearby, watching engrossed in our training session, his eyes comically wide.

We'd found a gym in the basement of the complex, one that seemed like nobody ever used. It was nearly abandoned, but there was still equipment laying around. Oliver flew in early this morning after managing to cash in a favor with a friend who owned a jet. Maya still hadn't been in touch, but we trusted that she'd contact us if she found anything.

I hadn't spoken much to Silas since the night before. There wasn't much to say, though I noticed the way that he'd try to approach me, but I skillfully avoided him. Suppressing a sigh, I redid the ponytail that had begun to fall out, and stepped back, stretching my shoulders back as I prepared myself for another round. This time, with someone else.

"Silas," I started indifferently, nodding him over to the spot in front of me, "Your turn."

The blood drained from his face and he shook his head rapidly, looking like he wanted nothing more than to run away. He put his hands out in front of his chest. "What? No, no way. I can't do that what you guys just did. You'll kill me."

Oliver and I shared a look, stifling our laughter. As much as I wanted to be serious, I couldn't.

"You can either use your legs," Oliver took a step towards him, "Or I can pick you up and carry you here."

Silas gulped and stood up to his feet nervously, his fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. He stepped in front of me, avoiding my gaze with such determination. Oliver stayed behind him, studying his form, humor dancing in his eyes.

Though he constantly picked on Silas, and still called him Simon, I couldn't help but feel that Oliver genuinely liked him. He was never an open person, but with Silas, he was playful. At ease.

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