Chapter 8i

The following night, I met with Kadir in the training room as planned.  
"Mr. Bowshade," I said, smiling.

"Ms. Ravenheart," he replied.

"I suppose you want to go straight to business."  I looked at him as I walked slowly toward him.

Kadir nodded.

"You're left side." I told him, poking him there. "You leave it unguarded." I looked at him.  "That's how Adonijah and I beat you.  You leave it wide open for us to sneak in and hit you.  You try to punch a lot too.  You need to remember that you're not a boxer.  You're an assassin.  Assassin's use any and all parts of their bodies to fight." 

He nodded, his eyes on the ground. 

"Other than that, you're a good fighter.  I've watched you fight many times, which is how I found your weak spot easily.  You're graceful and quick to analyze the situation you're in and act on it." I added.

Kadir looked at me, locking eyes with me before nodding.

"You want to practice?" I asked.  He nodded again.

I slid my tunic off, tossing it aside.  I wore a white corset underneath.  Kadir's mouth curled up at one side.  "I hope you made sure it was tight enough that your chest won't slip out before you came down here." he said, pulling his shirt off.  I laughed and we began to fight.

We practiced the next night as well as two more nights after that.

The fifth night, I dressed in a simple sleeveless top and shorts.

"You like him...don't you?" Ezra asked as she lay in bed with her red hair in two neat braids.

"I don't know." 

"Yes, you do.  You like him.  I don't have a problem with it.  I'm just asking.  I wanted to see if you knew how you felt." she said.  "Good luck, Iris."

I entered the training room and found Kadir standing in the center of the room.  We didn't speak.  We just started fighting.  We knew each others' style of fighting by now.  We knew the power behind each others' hits and how fast we each could move.  It was like a familiar dance or the repetition of a song.  Each movement was a step, a lyric so familiar...it was amazing.  But, something felt different this time.  There was a note of intimacy.  It felt like this was something more than a practice fight.  Maybe it was just me.  Kadir didn't love women outside of his dead mother.  He definitely wouldn't fall for me.  I'd embarrassed him.  I'd reminded him that he was nothing more than a boy from a labor camp.  The result of rape.  Almost a b*****d.  Yet, somehow he was okay with learning from me, practicing with me.

Why had I just jumped to the thought of falling for Kadir?  Had Ezra's question really stuck in my head that easily?  I could never consider falling for Kadir.  It wouldn't be right.  But, why wouldn't it be right?, I asked myself.  What's wrong with him that it would be so bad to feel for him?  

The truth was, I didn't even know the answers to these questions.

We danced across the training room floor, blocking, dodging, hitting, kicking.  Sweat trickled down our necks and faces.  It warmed my arms and made my clothes cling to my skin.  But, I didn't realize what Kadir's movements were really doing until my back hit a wall by the tall windows of the training room.  We stopped then, eyes locked.

His lips were parted in a small O shape as he tried to breathe.  I did the same, my hands clenched in shaking fists, ready to...I don't even know.  Would he really fight me when I'm trapped against a wall, barely able to move?

For a moment, I thought he was leaning in to kiss me, but then he backed up a few steps, smirking a little.

I stepped out of the corner, inhaling deeply.  "Why didn't you finish me?"

Kadir laughed inwardly.  "Beating someone by trapping them against the wall shows that you're weak.  If you can't beat them any other way, you shouldn't have gotten in the fight."

I nodded, smiling and waved him on.