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Russell dodged out of the way of the younger man's kick. Noting that he was leaving his left side wide open, he called out a warning. "Jaxon, keep it tight, or someone's getting in a lucky shot."
Rolling to his feet, Jaxon nodded. Levelling his breathing, he said, “Understood.”
It had been four years since he started training with his sister's husband. One year in complete secrecy, one year of being completely shattered and reborn into a stronger version of himself, and two years of non-stop sparring against Russell every day. His body was toned, lacking any semblance of fat as they moved through the motions of their sparring routine. The muscles no longer burned like they used to, allowing him to maintain his lean, unassuming figure while holding an ace he hoped he never had to use. His gaze, once filled with apprehension and disinterest, was now filled with determination and confidence.
What normally took four years to complete took the boys just over two years. Both had challenged the system when they started, and, thirty months later, they challenged it again only to graduate with the honours and a place on the Deans list.
Glowing letters of recommendation followed getting their graduation certificates in a private ceremony. Yet, despite being able to work anywhere with their skills, Luke and Jaxon handed their letters over to the Head of Security for the mob. Now both were officially registered as paid IT interns.
Without looking up, Jaxon knew that Markus was supervising his sparring match. He could feel the dark grey eyes of his boyfriend following his every move. He could envision the agitation in each passage his hand made through his dark, blond-frosted hair. He could almost imagine Mark’s heated gaze counting each droplet of sweat that hit the canvas floor of the ring.
Jaxon smiled as Russell came at him again, swiping at his leg. Jumping to the side, he twisted and planted his heel into the man's chest, sending him into the ropes of the ring. Russell grunted, grinning as he got to his feet.
"Good, stay focused," Russell said, throwing a punch. "You have a size advantage, Jaxon. Use it!"
Blocking the punch, the now nineteen-year-old dropped to the canvas floor of the ring and swung his leg out. Russell caught his foot between his ankles, effectively trapping him. Thinking fast, Jaxon twisted to kick the back of Russell's knees with his other foot.
Declan was overseeing all the training that day. There were four rings, four different skill levels, and four coaches. Then, just behind a partition, there was a private ring. That was the one they were using now. Age groupings didn't exist in the Underground. The people who joined were trained based on their skill levels, and grouped according to how well they performed.
So far, Jaxon was in a league of his own. His skill set was different, a true adaptation of Russell’s street fighter teachings and Kennedy’s Snake Fighting technique. He’d somehow managed to combine several of the attacks, making him one of the more formidable members of Phoenix’s team. Yet, despite now being physically and mentally more powerful, Jaxon didn’t bother changing his approachable personality or friendly demeanour.
"I'm calling it a day, lil bro," Russell breathed as he walked to his corner. Grabbing his bag, he toweled himself dry of the sweat that dripped from his body. "I still can't believe you and Luke finished four years of college in just over two years. That's gotta be some kind of record, right?"
Laughing, Jaxon turned to his brother-in-law and smirked. "Not really. There have been others who could do it in less time. Besides, your sister only required a fraction of the time it normally takes for people to finish medical school."
"Huh. I heard it takes something like ten years or more to complete that kind of schooling," Russell mused.
Smirking, Jaxon capped his water bottle. "It does, actually. I once asked Amber about it, and she said that, based on her abilities and dedication to the cause, the Canadian Medical Association granted her a certificate of completion. The rest is history."
"That's good, right?"
"How are you related to them again? I swear that fighting is the only thing you're good for half the time," Jaxon muttered as they made their way to the locker room.
Russell grinned. "Yeah, and the other half is making my family happy. Besides, isn’t it common knowledge that geniuses aren’t normally social creatures?"
Jaxon laughed. "You’re kidding? No. That only happens if the person or people are left to their own devices too often and don’t experience various emotional or social encounters from a young age. Their minds don’t pick up on the emotional or social cues after a while, and it can affect them badly."
Russell rolled his eyes as he spotted his older brother. "You'd swear they were waiting for me to hurt you or something."
Snickering, Jaxon downed the rest of his water before following his trainer into the locker room. He glanced down at his hand, frowning. Rooting through his gym bag, he made a noise of success as he slid the gold and onyx ring over his third finger. "That feels better."
Markus had given him the promise ring on his sixteenth birthday. During that time, the only occasions the ring came off were when he showered, helped with chores or the kids, or during training. Knowing that Markus never broke his word made trusting the other man with his heart a little easier. The only thing they were still working on was Markus's jealousy and protectiveness.
Glancing at his young brother-in-law, Russell said, "We got company."
Turning, Jaxon grinned at Markus, who walked into the changing rooms with a glower on his face. Seeing the lack of empathy on his boyfriend's face, Jaxon frowned. "What's going on?"
Mark narrowed his gaze at the bruise forming on Jaxon's bicep. "I don't like seeing you hurt. You had a chance to dodge, so why didn't you?"
Seeing the situation for what it was, Russell excused himself. He had to get to Declan, who was one of the few people stronger than Mark in nearly every way.
"I didn't dodge because the kick he was waiting to deliver to my stomach would have landed. That would have hurt a lot more than taking the punch, Markus," Jaxon replied as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. He grabbed his jogging pants, slipping them on over the clean boxers he was wearing.
Markus grunted. "Why can't I be your protector? Why do you have to learn how to fight?"
Rather than feed into the man’s goading, Jaxon smartly refrained from saying ‘Here we go again’. Instead, he said, "Dad agreed that me being bullied and hurt at school wouldn't have happened at all if I'd known how to properly fight on my own. Besides, depending on you all the time could be stressful, and I can't do that to you."
"You're pushing the limits of what I'm able to mentally and emotionally handle, Ji-Hoon," Markus snarled. He hated seeing the younger man's flesh marred with bruises. To make the best of it, he had nothing to say that Jaxon couldn't turn around and use logical rationale on. He grasped Jaxon's wrist, holding him firmly. "Look, just quit. I can take care of you and the business, so it's not that bad. Please, baby, for my sanity?"
Pulling from him, Jaxon seethed, "It's called training for a reason, Mark. I'm not going to learn a damn thing if I'm being babied all the time. I'm a ranked member of this mafia too, so lay off. I'm not weak, Markus. I'm not going to break, so stop treating me like I'm made of freaking porcelain!"
Markus swallowed tightly. He shook as the thoughts that ran through his head, threatening to drag him into a darker state of mind. One he wouldn't easily come back from.
"I do not treat you like you're made of porcelain," he snapped angrily.
Breathing steadily, Jaxon maintained his stance without feeding Mark’s argument-fueled words. "You worry about me, I get it, but there's a limit to how much I'm willing to take, Markus. You can't just take complete control over everything. You can't expect me to play the docile little home-maker while you bust your ass working. Relationships don't work like that anymore."
Jaxon paused, his throat burning. His anger had reached a boiling point, and it was all he could do not to say the biting words that were on the tip of his tongue. Shoving his gear into his bag, he moved to leave.
Mark caught him by the arm. "Yes, I do worry about you. In fact, I worry a lot about you. I'm trying to be the perfect boyfriend."
"Jesus, Markus," Jaxon snapped. "Can you get it through your thick f*****g skull? I don't need or want the perfect boyfriend when perfect doesn’t exist! I need a man who is as confident in my abilities as I am. I apologize if that’s the idea that came across to you, but you know I don’t believe in things that are proven to be illusions created by society."
He stopped, looking over at the man he started going out with at the tender age of fourteen. Taking a breath, he realized he wasn't so sure of their relationship anymore. In fact, he was rethinking what Markus meant to him, and vice versa. He didn't really want to, but he had to let Markus know what he was losing if he didn't back off. "I think we need to take a break."
- Writer
