Chapter Twelve



Aryia's P.O.V.

I quickly take a cold shower before heading for lunch. That training session was amazing. Justin is very very good and his deal is sweet. I'll learn a lot from him and I'm going to be able to keep my anger at bay. Well, unless he keeps trying to befriend me. We're totally going to lock heads if he carries on questioning me like that.

I think he might have seen the bruises and possibly the scars. He hasn't mentioned anything and I'm obviously not going to start that kind of conversation with him. If he tries to bring that up in conversation, then he's going to get shut down very quickly. My life is none of his business and I intend to keep it that way.

As I step into the kitchen for lunch, I actually feel pretty good. I'm a bit sore from the fight last night and the recent training session, but it's nothing I can't handle. That move Justin did, completely taking me off my feet, was awesome. Even if I did land on my back. I need to learn that move for sure.

Louise hands me a plate and I literally hear the room stop when I say, “Thanks.”

Mike does a double take and Louise's smile could probably be on a dental surgeon's ad.

“You're welcome.”

I don't smile, I don't even acknowledge her any further. I just take the plate and sit down. I'm eating my sandwich when Justin sits next to me. He eyes me carefully for a while before finally whispering, “Thank you for being nice to Lou.”

I don't respond, not even a nod or anything. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of it. Although, I do find it strange that he would thank me for something he thinks I should be doing all the time. This guy is weird. He laughs at my remarks, he tells me I did good on the horse and now he's thanking me for being nice, even though he's furious with me. How does that even make sense? Maybe that's his plan. To confuse me and make me think he's backing off so I'll let my guard down. He's very mistaken if he thinks that's going to work. By now, I'm a pro at this game. I've been playing this most of my life and I won't let him win.

I finish my food faster than everyone else, and I stand to take my plate and glass to the sink. Justin reaches for my wrist and I grunt at him.

“Where do you think you're going?”

I almost shove my plate and glass in his face, so he questions, “Lost your voice now, have you?”

I snort at that, “You wish. You obviously didn't make me scream enough...”

I send him a wink for added effect. The guys nearly choke on their food, while Louise turns the deepest shade of red imaginable. My work here is done.

I'm at the sink before the guys can recover and I hear Mike and Todd start to chuckle at Justin's expense. Justin doesn't look embarrassed though. If anything, he looks amused and slightly horrified by my remark. I don't know if I should be offended by that. He must find me really repulsive to allow such a look of horror to accidentally be shown. As far as I can tell, he doesn't like to let his expressions slip. Well, not in front of me anyway. Which means the disgust he felt at my comment must be real and strong.

I'm not going to lie and say I'm physically ugly, because I don't think I am. I've got a good body and naturally olive skin. My dark hair and green eyes are pretty boring, but I'm not bad looking. My personality, however, is pretty darn ugly if you ask me. I'm a nasty piece of work and I'm always angry. Being 'nice' doesn't come naturally to me, so it's something I don't really know how to do. Not for any great length of time anyway. I struggle with socially acceptable things, as I'm sure you've discovered. I'm not like a recluse or anything, but people make me angry, then I want to smash their faces in and then the cops show up. I just can't help myself though. I can't keep my mouth shut, especially when people set themselves up for a sarcastic remark.

As I'm just drying my hands after washing my plate, Justin snaps a handcuff around my wrist. I actually thought he was joking about the whole being cuffed to him thing.

“What? You thought I was kidding? Not in the slightest. I've got paperwork to do and you're going to join me. I can't trust you, so you're sitting with me. Mike, I'll come out and teach you in a couple of hours. You guys can paint the barn until then.”

“I'm good at painting....”

Justin chuckles, but there's no humor in it. “You think I'm gonna let you paint in the same vicinity as Todd without me being there? You're kidding, right?”

I see his point. I'm not going to lie, I'll hurt Todd if he says the wrong thing in front of me.

“Fair point. You gotta protect the coward, I get it...”

I smirk as Todd protests my comment and Justin snaps the other cuff onto his right wrist and drags me into the office. As he's dragging me away, I almost shout, “If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask. No need to handcuff me...”

Mike chuckles and shakes his head, muttering something to Louise about me being a handful and Justin has met his match with me. I do live to please.

I've been sitting next to Justin in silence for about 2 hours now. I am bored out of my mind. Just to test the waters, I say, “So... if I told you I wanted to spar now, would you go and train with me?”

He eyes me closely and then says, “No.”

“No? You told me whenever I wanted...”

“I know what you're doing. You're trying to get the cuffs off and you're trying to get out of this office because you are bored. It's not going to work.”

“Dude, no need to get your panties in a wad, I was just asking...”

“I don't think there's ever such a thing as 'just asking' with you. If it's any consolation, I'm almost done. Then you can stand in the arena with me while I teach Mike.”

“Fun...” Note the sarcasm there.

“You brought this on yourself. Just remember that. You wouldn't be in this situation if you could just control your temper. You want to talk about that?”

I scoff at that.

“We've got plenty of time and it's not like you're going anywhere.”

“I'd rather sit in silence, thanks.”

He sighs, “Despite what you think, Ariya, I'm trying to help you.”

“So you keep saying. That would be great, if I actually needed help. I'm just fine, thank you.”

“I don't know what preconceived ideas you have about me or this place, but they're wrong. I genuinely want to help you to control your temper...”

“It's not out of control. I'm fully in control of myself when I smack someone upside the head.”

“That's even worse! You know exactly what you're doing and you have the power to control it, but you just carry on anyway? Do you realize how crazy that is? Do you realize just how aggressive that makes you sound?”

“Do you realize that I don't actually care? I've never hit someone who didn't actually deserve it, so I've got nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about? Seriously? Are you even hearing yourself right now? What part of your rap sheet is nothing to worry about? How many times have you been arrested, charged and thrown in jail? That's nothing to worry about?”

“Did I stutter?”

“What?”

“I know I've got a lot of bad habits, but a stutter isn't one of them. I told you, I've got nothing to worry about because I never start it. Just because other people lie to get out of trouble, doesn't mean I have to.”

“So, your fight last night; who was it?”

I shrug, “Some random guy.”

“Did he deserve it then?”

I say nothing. I'm not a rat. I don't want to drop anyone in it and I certainly don't want to risk dropping D in it. The guy has been good to me. Probably the only person in my life who has been, to be honest.

“No answer for that? Now you learn to keep your mouth shut? Does this throw out your whole philosophy about never hitting someone who doesn't deserve it?”

I chuckle but say nothing. He's not getting any information out of me.

“You certainly are an odd one Miss Flynn.”

I raise my eyebrow at him and I'm sure he notices what I'm trying to convey, because he says, “Ariya. I'm sorry.”

“No you're not. You do it deliberately to either get a reaction out of me or to annoy me.”

“You're a smart one, Ariya, I'm not going to deny that. How did you learn to read people like that?”

“You really think I'm going to answer that?”

“It was worth a shot. You'll have to give in at some point. You know, you don't have to give everyone your whole life story to be friendly. You can give small pieces of information to make conversation. Things like where you're from, what music you like, favorite color, TV shows or movies that you like...”

I look at him blankly for a little while, but don't respond. I don't want to give anything away. The last time I heard any real music, I was a teenager. I don't even know what's out there now. I haven't watched a TV or a movie since I was 12 or 13 years old, so I can't comment on that either. Obviously, I know where I'm from and what my favorite color is, but I don't want people to know about me. I like to fade into the background and have no one notice I'm there. Perhaps that's partly a product of my past and partly from my current life, but whatever. I feel like even giving out a little bit of information is too much. Like it will snowball out of control and I'll end up giving away too much.

Eventually I say, “You make it sound like you're setting me up on a date. Don't bother. I'm not interested.”

He eyes me suspiciously and then quietly says, “You have no idea what music you like or anything about TV or movies, do you?”

“I prefer to spend my time fighting, thank you.”



“Huh, we'll need to do something about that. Come on, let's see how far they've got with the painting.”