“I have to train.” She continues to argue but she’s losing momentum.
“You will. We will all work with you. Train with you.” She scoffs which I try not to take personally. “Tori, you’ve seen me. You know that I can train you. That we can all work with you. Fucking Bastian and Rory made sure a long, long time ago that Jax and I could do a lot more with these fantastic muscles of ours besides look good and play ball.” I say the last part as a joke that she laughs at.
“You don’t know my routine,” her argument gets weaker.
“And I guess we’re too dumb to be taught,” I mock but with a smile.
She huffs but she’s smiling too. That thousand watt smile she has that I don’t even think she realizes she has. She shows as many teeth as I do. “Fine,” she says rolling her eyes.
I pull her to me for a kiss which she greedily accepts for a second until she pushes me away. “Go get in the damn shower.”
The gym in the lower levelsof the Diamond building is state of the art. As if Rory and Bastian would have anything less. It’s funny how they are very simple people in some aspects and extraordinarily extravagant in others. They hate suits but Rory wears a fifteen-thousand-dollar watch. Bastian renovated his loft (former sugar cane plant) from top to bottom himself but has a collection of cars to rival Jay Leno.
Their offices on the forty-second floor are up to date and modern but extremely simplistic. The lower levels, on the other hand (where mafia business is handled), have the best of everything. Sound proofing, two-way mirrors in some rooms, and this gym is another example.
I walk across the floor past every modern convenience training requires, to the ring in the middle of the floor. Rory is in the ring with her moving around while she swings wildly. Bastian hangs over the ropes watching – analyzing actually.
He jumps from the platform when he sees me coming. He, not so subtly, brings me to the side out of hearing range.
“I take it she’s not doing well?” I ask unable to mask my concern.
“She’s hurting more than she’s letting on, but you can’t miss it in how she moves. It’ll be a dead giveaway to whoever she’s fighting.”
“Have y’all told her that?”
He drags a hand down this face then begins to pull on the back of his neck. “Not yet. We’ve been trying to get her to change up her fighting style a bit. She a southpaw swarmer when swinging, but you can tell she’s used to grappling and submissions. We are trying like hell to get her to be more defensive because every time she swings, she’s dropping her shoulder because she’s in pain.”
“Maybe get her to fight more orthodox,” I suggest.
“Do you think she really has time to basically learn how to be a totally different type of fighter? Three weeks isn’t even enough time to train for a fight like this if she were completely healthy.” He is trying not to show it, but he’s worried. He has tells just like Rory and Jax and his are on full display. “I’ve done some checking on her. She is a great fighter when she has time to prepare and she’s healthy. Have you noticed anything else going on with her besides the ribs?”
I think for a minute. I have caught her grabbing the counter a few times for balance when I don’t think I’ve ever seen her off balance before. I also catch her rubbing her neck on occasion. “Maybe,” I answer vaguely because I’m not sure if I’m reading into it a little too much. “Why do you ask anyway?”
“I’m worried she may have gotten a concussion during her last fight. Every once in a while, she just seems to get a little dizzy.”
Now I’m rubbing down my face. I grip all of my hair in my hands behind my neck and begin to pull at them both. “Fuck. How can I let her fight in that match?” I ask, all the while knowing full well, I don’tletTori do anything.
“Don’t have a choice, Zee. Gotta let her do it or risk them hurting her sister. We’ll just have to make sure she focuses on defense.”
We walk back toward the ring climbing onto the apron. I watch her movements closely. She’s not just dropping her shoulder or shuffling her feet. She is a lot slower than I know Tori can be. She is most definitely favoring that left side.
“Take a break,” Rory tells her. “Actually, you should probably call it a day.”
She starts shaking her head. I love her more for her tenacity and determination, but I know Rory is right. She’s not getting anywhere like this. I know she’s not going to give up that easy though.
Bastian and I climb between the ropes in the ring. “Tori, what did the did doctor tell you about your ribs?” Bastian asks. The question catches me off guard and makes me feel a little guilty because I haven’t thought to ask her that.
She shrugs nonchalantly and I knew I wasn’t going to like her response. “Never went to the doctor. I know what broken ribs feel like and what to do about them.”
Bastian scrubs his hand down his face in agitation. Rory rakes his fingers through his hair tugging just a little. I lace my fingers behind my neck, gripping it tight, to keep from wrapping them around her throat.“Why?” Rory asks with his teeth clenched. “Why didn’t you see a doctor?”
Her chin tips up defiantly as she readies herself to remind us all that she doesn’t need our input. That no one tells her what to do. “Why would I waste money on an emergency room visit when I know what’s wrong? Not to mention, how would I explain the state I was in?”
“I’m sure they had a doctor who could’ve looked you over,” I comment with my teeth grinding down hard.
“They didn’t offer one,” she tells us with another careless shrug.
“Che cazzo? Sei stupido, cazzo?” Bastian begins to ramble in Italian. He’s known to do that from time to time. Especially when he’s pissed.
