The training room was quiet and dimly lit just like the last time I'd been here. Stepping in suddenly reminding me of how I had ridden Elias on the mat like a psychopath, but I pushed the thought aside, not wanting to dwell on it.
I was dressed in black leggings and a tight sports bra that clung to every curve and muscle, like a second skin. The fabric pressed against me, reminding me of the pressure and annoyance coiling inside.
Elias stood near the mats, the usual shadow in his black tee, cargo pants, and sneakers. Even in the stillness, he radiated a lethal calm; like a weapon waiting to be drawn.
He acknowledged my presence with a single nod.
"Are you ready?" He asked.
I nodded.
"Do you remember your stance? How to throw a punch?" His voice was low and steady, but carried an edge that demanded focus.
"Yes," I replied, my tone clipped. I was impatient. I wasn't here to rehearse old moves. I wanted something new, something that would push me beyond the limits.
