Page 3 of 4th Degree

Jax opens his mouth to say something, but before the words come out, his eyes dart over my shoulder.

“Hey, Coach,” he says.

“Hey,” comes a gruff voice from behind me. “You guys all finished here?”

Jax nods. “Skylar just finished up her first lesson. She did great.”

I turn around to face the owner and head trainer of the gym. I had researched him—and the other instructors—before I decided to join, but knowing his record and watching a few of his fight replays is not the same as seeing him in person. Because just like it did last week when I met him, the sight of Coach Dominic drives the breath from my lungs.

He's older, with serious blue eyes and dark facial hair, his face battle-worn from life and a decade of fighting. But despite being retired from his sport, I can tell even through his t-shirt and gym shorts that he’s kept himself in peak physical condition—one glance at his bicep has me wondering if he could crush a man’s skull in his hand.

Combined with the fact that he carries himself with all the confidence of a man who knows his place in the world, and he’s easily one of the most commanding people I’ve ever stood in front of.

He looks at me in a way that makes me realize he’s got the kind of eyes that don’t give away what he’s thinking, or how he’s feeling.

“Did you like your first class?” he asks me.

“So much,” I answer with a grin. “It was so fun.”

“You sure you’ve never trained before? You looked like a natural out there.”

I shake my head, trying to tamp down on my excited smile so he doesn’t know how his compliment affects me. “Nothing beyond slapping my brother around a little bit.”

I think I see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Then he's turning to Jax and saying, “Run the fighters through their warmup. We're doing defense drills today.”

Jax returns a stiff nod. “Yes, sir.” Facing the fighters who are starting to stretch and warm up on the other side of the room, he yells out, “Everyone on the mat! Five minutes of shadow boxing. Let's go!”

Everyone snaps to follow his command. Since it’s only the warmup, people are still chatting and focusing more on loosening muscles than technical perfection. But I’m fascinated by it all the same. I watch as they move through kicks, punches, knees, and elbows.

“Don’t worry, there’s no final exam.”

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear Coach Dominic’s voice, my head jerking in his direction. He’s still standing next to me, still observing me with an expression I can’t read. And when the timer goes off that signals the end of the round, I realize I’ve been staring at the fighters for five whole minutes, and Coach has been watching me do it.

“I just like getting things right,” I say unapologetically as I turn my attention back to the mat. “If I’m going to do something, I might as well try my best while I do it.”

I can sense him still studying me. After a moment, his gaze turns back to his fighters. “So why so interested in training? You have plans to fight before you get too old or something?”

When I look at him this time, my brow is furrowed in confusion. “What? What does that— No, of course not.”

He lets out a puff of air that I think is meant to be a chuckle. “Every so often we’ll have someone sign up who wants to train every single day because they’re almost forty and they want to get at least one fight in before they die.” He sends me another sidelong look. “It was a joke, since you’re obviously not even close to forty.” His eyes narrow as he takes another look at my face. “I wouldn’t put you a day over thirty-four.”

My laugh bursts out of me, and I have to smother it with my hand when some of the fighters look to me with curious eyes. Coach has already schooled his expression by the time they do.

“So,” he says after a minute. “Why so interested?”

I think about the first fight I ever watched on TV, when that spark of passion first ignited. I think about how I felt watching it, how amazed I was that a sport like this even exists. How I remember thinking…I want to try that. I want to experience that kind of excitement.

How do I explain any of that?

But instead of explaining that a life of routine and safety has made me desperate to feel some kind of safe, inexpensive high, I just grin and say, “Because if I’m going to get in a fight, I might as well be good at it.”

2

COACH

It takes me a second to look away from my new student. We’ve had plenty of overeager people sign up at the gym, but there’s something about Skylar that makes me want to understand her motivation.

“Am I allowed to watch the advanced class for a little bit?”

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