BOUND TO HIM BY FORCE

28. WHO IS MY HUSBAND?

Four o’clock I was standing before Max. We had both cleaned up and I had been beyond shocked when I got back from my shower to find a bottle of water, a pill, and a tray of food on my sleeping mattress. I took the pill but I still felt like sh*t so I was not taking it again, what was the point exactly.

Every part of me ached, I was more than exhausted but I had this drive, I had this fire in me that had me standing where I was.

“Run laps,” Max said with me nodding my head. I went straight to it, running at a steady pace with the chant we had sung the previous day echoing in my head. I was so absorbed in the run I did not even notice the people that had joined me. The chant was whispered until it was sung out, a lot of voices joining with my head snapping in shock.

All the men were there and I was sweating.

When? How?

I did not even know the laps I had done, my mind taken away, the sun just about to grace the land.

“Princess, come. You all, continue.” Max shot out with me doing a few more feet then pulled from the large group that had been leading all the other men.

I was wet with sweat and dead tired but I would not complain. I reached Max, him drinking a cup of coffee which he called a man and told him to take it to the kitchen.

I had not even known there was a kitchen. I wished I could have a tour of the place, seemed like there were more beautiful places hidden, just like the clinic.

I watched as Max stretched. He was wearing his black fighting gear just like all of us. I liked the black. The khaki would just get too easily dirty and it did not look good on me. But I had so many clothes, I could wear black everyday if I wanted to.

What was he planning? I wondered but waited in attention, ready for anything.

“We will fight.” It was the only warning given before Max punched me on the face only to pull back and roll his neck, jumping around.

I groaned, my hand on my nose that would surely disfigure soon. How could anyone love me with a disfigured nose?

Max turned, out of the blue, he hit me, his feet kicking mine with me on the floor in no time. He was fast I would give him that. What would you expect? Looking at his body, he ate as much as he exercised, nothing but pure muscle on him.

I groaned, his foot coming on my face over and over as I took cover.

He stepped away, showing that he was still warming up. He rolled his shoulders again then stretched his arms.

I spat the blood out of my mouth, getting up to snap out of it. I was going to give my all and when my hundred was not working, I would turn the heat up to two hundred.

My fists were clenched, snapping my neck from side to side as Max turned back around. We circled each other. The match had begun and I was ready to fight to death if be.

My body jumped, kneeing his face to jump back, turning and kicked him so quick he never saw it coming. I never gave him a chance, kicking with the other leg then went with my fists on his face.

He pushed me away, both his hands gripping my head before he banged his large head on mine. I stumbled back, feeling as if my brain was just shaken right there.

He nailed me with his fists then kicks. I turned, throwing my own. I was not afraid; I had thrown away my fear the previous day when I slaughtered the hound. If I died then so be it but be damned if I went down without a fight.

I gave as good as I got, blood on my hands and I was proud to say that most of it was not mine but Max also had blood on his fists and most of it did not belong to him.

We did not stop, never stopped. We took a second long break, jumping off each other to catch our breathes then went back at it.

Everything I had been taught since I was young was used. All the times I had cried and complained even at the late age of nineteen, I suddenly cursed my own self. I suddenly saw how stupid I was. Why would I learn when I lived in such an amazing house with amazing parents that were never afraid of anything. As much as my parents told me how harsh the world was, I never really took it seriously because I had been granted the precious gift of being sheltered from all the monsters of the world.

But fate had other plans and it was time to relearn all the things I had never paid attention to.

I was fighting and learning, watching how Max was fighting, taking some of his styles and using them against him. He saw this and began breaking off the fight now and again to give me pointers and help me with my footing which I lost most of the time, falling more frequently.

We fought, tumbling on the ground and rolling with each person throwing as good as they could give. I was pouring my soul into every punch I threw; every kick I shot out. My body just moved on its own, like a dance, the bloodiest I had done so far. One of the advantages I had was being flexible so I could maneuver around Max pretty quickly and easily, escaping his attacks and also throwing in my own. His strength was his muscles. Each punch left you dizzy with his kicks as if he wanted to leave me brain damaged. He was strong and he was stubborn, never giving up.

He groaned and I groaned back at him, elbowing him and digging my knee on his side. I jumped off him, heaving with my body crunched low, ready to attack.

“Ten laps.” He suddenly said.

I frowned but my body already turning and running to the edge. I began running, my pace a bit faster because of the adrenaline running through my body. And to my shock, Max was next to me, running the laps with me.

We ran and on the fifth lap he kept turning back and forward. I don’t know why but I did it and it was strenuous as hell. We finished the ten laps, him going on down and doing press ups. I went down too, going up and down as my whole body shook so hard.

We finished the press ups and went back to fighting. Instead of going at it, he told me to do punches. He observed and helped me with my posture. We then went to kicks, him telling me which kicks were best for which situation. I was so absorbed, the pain never mattered, nothing mattered, nodding my head and doing as told.

I did squats, running laps again to come back to do fighting stunts with Max.

He acted out different situations and taught me how to attack and defend in each situation. He was preparing me for anything and everything.

It seemed the sun went down way quickly. My body was screaming that it was time to call it quits but I was making up for the ten years I had wasted when my parents had been teaching me how to fight. I had barely learnt anything really. I had the taught skills but they were useless without the proper knowledge and practice.

The men were called off, them dropping to the ground from the hard training they had endured all day and evening.

My brain was spilt into two, knowing I needed to rest, knowing I could not go any longer but also wanting to push myself off the limits. I wanted to push until I had no limits.

“Training is over, we will pick up tomorrow.” Max said two hours after the men had left.

“Okay sir, thank you.” I said to him, wiping off my sweat, my legs shaking.

 We took time to catch our breaths then turned to walk back towards where my cell was.

Max kept turning to stare at me then looked away. I turned to stare at him finally, pulling away from my step observation, making sure my feet were light on the ground.

“You have something to say, I know.”  I said, leaving no space for him to pull out from not telling me.

“You are trying but I need you to try harder. In this world, less than perfection is not accepted. You will have to be perfect in everything you do or you will just not do. A simple mistake can have you worthless in a second.” Max said with me having stopped in my tracks, staring at him.

“Exactly who is my husband, Max?” I could not help but ask. If I would be perfect, I knew I was being perfect for him, I knew everything was happening for him, but why? Why this much? My father had talked about his cartel from now and again, nothing I heard from him compared to what Azrail was. Nothing compared to the way Azrail did everything of his. He had killed so many cartel leaders with no care. What he did would start a war which would bury so many people but not for him, not for Azrail. The cartel leaders had not been angry or threatening him, they were scared, they were scared for their lives. They had not spoken of revenge or the war that would break out, they begged for an easy death, that is how wicked Azrail was. I still could not wrap around the dynamics of what happened that night, it was too deep for me to understand.

Who was Azrail Duran?

“Someone you would not have met if God was on your side.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hi guys, these last six chapters have only been edited once, sorry if you find grammr errors and stuff. I was rushing against a deadline but I will edit them again in due time.

Lots of love,

Tema.