Resurrection: A Dark High School Romance (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #1)(9)

We go at it like this is a real life-or-death situation. Punching and kicking, swinging and diving, dancing on our feet as we spar, pretty evenly matched. Blood trickles into my eye from the small cut on my brow, and I swipe at it with my sweat-slickened hand.

“Time out,” Diesel shouts, holding up bottles of water, and I curse under my breath. I can count on one hand the amount of times Diesel has ended a fight over the years he’s been training me. It almost always ends with my opponents out cold or clearly at my mercy. Either I’m losing my touch or he’s upped the stakes, choosing better quality targets for me to practice on.

My opponent’s smug smile angers me so much I strike the carotid artery in his neck with the side of my hand when he turns away from me, grinning as his legs give out, his eyelids flutter closed, and he crashes to the floor.

Diesel sighs, shaking his head as he approaches, offering me a bottle of water. “I wanted to do some close combat knife fighting today. It’s been a while since we focused on knife fighting skills and defenses.”

I take the bottle from him and twist the cap. “I know how to use my knife, and I always carry my blade with me.”

It took me a couple years to feel comfortable using knives because the sight of one used to trigger my trauma, but Dad arranged for this special form of hypnosis therapy that helped me overcome my fear. Carrying a folding knife is easier to conceal than a firearm, so learning how to defend myself using knives was a no-brainer.

I drain half the bottle in one go while Diesel prods the unconscious guy and girl on the ground. He talks quietly into his earpiece, and I know he’s calling in the cleanup team.

They always follow him here in a plain black van. Hiding in the shadows at the edge of the woods surrounding the field where we conduct our training sessions. Only revealing themselves when Diesel summons them to remove my bloodied and battered opponents.

I never fight the same combatants. It’s always new men and women. Usually a few years older than me. And I’ve often wondered who they are and where they come from. But I know not to ask questions. That was another thing Daddy taught me. I know they are here to help me. That they have kept this secret for years and that Diesel contacted me the day after Dad died to confirm the monthly weekend arrangement was still in place.

It seems, even in death, Dad is still protecting me.

Pain slices through my chest, attempting to infiltrate my heart, but I reinforce my walls and push the pain away. Like I do daily when the toll of Dad’s passing hits me anew, threatening to dismantle the armor I’ve spent years perfecting.

The best way I can honor the man, who meant everything to me, is to live the life he helped create for me. To be the person he shaped me to be. To force my emotions aside and focus on what needs to be done.

“Go shower,” Diesel instructs a couple minutes later. “I’ll meet you in the cabin.”

“Sure thing, Commander.” I toss him a sexy grin as I turn around, heading in the direction of the cabin that has been in my dad’s family for generations. My hips sway as I walk, and I can feel his eyes glued to my Lycra-clad body every step of the way. I shouldn’t tease him like this. Not out in the open where there are vigilant eyes, but sometimes, I just can’t help myself.

I walk into the cabin, instantly relaxing in the familiar surroundings. It’s been modernized over the years, and it’s more like a luxury vacation cabin now.

Originally, our ancestors built it as a hunting cabin, and I imagine it was more rustic and rudimentary back then. Now, it boasts split levels with four en suite bedrooms upstairs and a large open-plan living and kitchen area downstairs. The lower level also houses a game room, bar, small gym, and study.

Dad usually worked while I trained, and on Sundays, I would do homework at his desk while he grilled steaks. Out back, there is a wide decked area with a hot tub, outdoor eating area, and grill that we made good use of anytime we came here.

We’re surrounded by thick woodland, and there is no other property for miles. Access is via a high gated entrance, and the entire twenty-acre site is protected by barbed wire and high-tech security cameras. There is only one way on and off this property, and it’s always been my go-to safe haven.

Mom doesn’t even know about this cabin.

Something else Dad and I were keeping secret from her.

All those weekends he told her he was taking me camping up the mountains, we were actually coming here.

Dad loved my mom so much. Anyone who spent time in their presence could attest to it. They worshiped one another in a way I’ve never seen with any other couple.

But he kept a lot of shit from her.

I’ve kept a lot of shit from her.

I’m still doing it, but it’s necessary.

I’ve promised myself that if I ever fall in love it will be with someone on an equal footing. Someone I can tell all my secrets to. Someone who will protect me in the same way I protect him. Not someone I have to shelter and lie to in the name of keeping him safe.

I trudge up the stairs and into my bedroom, opening a window to let some cool air circulate, before I head into my bathroom. It takes time and energy to peel my sweaty workout gear off my body, but after exerting considerable effort, I step into the shower, sighing as the cold water hits my flesh.

I let my skin cool down under the cold water, and once my body temp has reduced, I adjust the shower settings to warm. I wash and condition my hair and scrub at my body, and then, I stand under the warm stream of water, allowing it to ease my tired, sore muscles.