Live For It

|11|

ZHARA

I sensed him watching before he even spoke. I was sparing with Flynn now, trying to avoid a roundhouse kick to my back when I felt the overwhelming presence.

The power reeked into the room, and I'm sure Flynn could feel it, too.

My movements were solely focused on dodging Flynn's hits, I honestly couldn't try and look over if I wanted. The hair on the back of my neck felt as though it had stood up when I felt his dominating gaze on me, making me self-conscious.

Just the air in the room had shifted when Zion Armani had been anywhere remotely close to the doorway.

I was ducking left and right to avoid hits to the face, and it didn't help that I felt like someone was critiquing me in their mind the entire time.

When Flynn gets a hit to my gut, I stumble back, not enough to lose my footing, but enough to let a grunt of pain out of my system. Snapping straight back into action, I shuffle forward and to the side, avoiding his second attempts to knock me off. 

I take his short pause as an attempt to move my balance over to one leg and swing the other around as my back twists in the air, hitting Flynn straight in the side of his ribs. 

Not enough to send him flying, though. Flynn grins from the ground as I walk over to him, hands set on my hips proudly. I displayed a hand in front of him to help him up, and that's when his eyes widen as he looks over my shoulder. 

I turn immediately, feeling the presence of someone too close for my liking, and snatch at whatever was aimed at my head. A sharp intake of air was heard from Flynn as I trailed my eyes up, feeling a wrist bone under the skin my hand was wrapped around. A fist was equal to my face level as I angled my body around. I immediately dropped my hold on Zion Armani's hand, seeing as when it fell to his side, the fist it was clenched in released. I watch as the once tensed hand flexed under my gaze, his tattoos straining against his tan skin. My brows furrowed as I make eye contact with him, stepping away subconsciously. I try not to let the snarl grow on my face, but it does anyway, and I hope he can see it. His jaw tightened and ticked as I felt my feet hit the cold tile, stepping off the mat. 

Something flashes over in his eyes, not guilt, no, never, but not anger, either. Before the man could even try to get another hand near me, I turn my back to them and walk, attempting to leave my confusion behind me. 

He was going to hit me? For what?

It didn't make sense. I would've let him hit me if I deserved it, but all I had been doing was training, training for whatever job these idiots would force me to do. There was nothing wrong with that, right?

I grab my water bottle off the bench and try to wipe the dirty look off my face as I walk through the hallway. What did I even do to that guy? 

Okay, maybe I did actually do a lot, but I kinda had to. He didn't have to hold me hostage and take away my sheet hammock. I need another one of those, too. 

I should probably take a shower before dinner.

As I was passing the living room, I felt something latch onto my legs. When did life-size leeches come out?

The sound of high-pitched laughter flooded through my ears as I stopped in my tracks and looked down at my calf, seeing a grey-eyed little boy staring back up at me. My jaw dropped as I took in the view of a toddler latched onto my leg. A child. 

Zion has a motherfucking kid? 

I was still staring dumbfounded at the kid when I felt the same feeling on my other leg, and I started to think I was hallucinating. I snapped my head to the side to see an exact copy of the toddler on my other side.