Page 76 of Hide Me Darling

“We have no woman here for you to spar with,” Telvin says when we stop near him.

I frown, glancing around and seeing that he’s right. There are several men I don't know, along with Eli, and surprisingly, Ty is also there.

“I'll spar with her,” Makai says with a smile.

Ty laughs. “The poor girl wouldn't survive your muscles. I'll do it.”

Telvin shakes his head with a sigh. “I'm the closest to her build, and besides, it would be irresponsible of me as the trainer to risk her getting hurt by any of you,” he says softly, but his voice still holds enough weight that it has the others shrugging and starting to pair off instead of arguing. He looks at me. “We will do some pad work so I can see where your strengths are then go from there.”

I nod, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement. Telvin hands me a pair of lightweight gloves while he grabs some focus mitts, and we move to an empty spot on the mats. He demonstrates a series of combinations, and I follow his lead, focusing on the rhythm and precision of each strike.

“Good, keep your guard up,” Telvin instructs. “And remember to breathe.”

I nod, adjusting my stance and throwing a few more punches. The repetition is soothing, and I find myself slipping into a comfortable rhythm. Telvin occasionally stops to correct my form or give me pointers, but overall, he seems pleased with my performance.

"Not bad, not bad at all," he says with a slight smile. "But let's see how you handle some real pressure."

Telvin starts to call out more complex combinations, pushing me to move faster, hit harder. He starts striking my arms and legs lightly with the mitts at random times between strikes when I miss.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunts quietly as I miss another strike. “I thought you said you’ve done this before.”

I grit my teeth, trying to channel my frustration into my punches, but his words start to get under my skin. He knows exactly what he's doing, and it’s working.

"Come on, you can do better than that," Telvin challenges. "Maybe you should stick to something less intense, like yoga."

I can feel myself growing hot, the need to prove myself pushing me harder. I throw a punch with more force than I have skill to back up and my form slips.. Telvin catches the mistake immediately, tapping my arm harder in response. It just happens to be the same arm as the brand and it does nothing but remind me of the reason I came out here in the first place.

“Not bad, but you hit like a tourist,” Telvin says, his lips curling into the hint of a smirk.

I narrow my eyes but keep my focus. “I’m just warming up,” I retort.

“Maybe, but if you keep hesitating like that, you’ll never land a hit in a real fight,” he shrugs, not taking me seriously.

Anger bubbles up inside me like boiling water, but I channel it into my punches. “I’m not hesitating,” I snap back, aiming a particularly hard punch at the mitt.

“Sure, sure,” he says, sidestepping. “I’ve seen more aggressive sparring from beach bums.”

I aim a kick at him, but he grabs my leg and sweeps the other from under me in a swift move I didn’t see coming. I land heavily on the mat, my breath escaping me in a rush. Before I can move, he’s kneeling beside me, a focus mitt held under my chin.

“Lesson for the day,” Telvin says gently, looking down at me. “Control your emotions. Anger makes you sloppy.”

I lay there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. The mat is cool against my back, a stark contrast to the heat burning through my chest. He’s right, of course. I let him get to me, and I paid for it.

I’m letting everything get to me lately. It’s causing my mind to be too distracted and making it impossible to look at the investigation objectively.

“Got it,” I finally manage, pushing myself up.

Telvin offers me a hand, and I take it, pulling myself to my feet. “Good,” he says. “Now, let’s try that again, and this time, keep your cool.”

I nod, determined to prove myself not just to him, but to me too. We go through the motions again, and this time, I focus on staying calm and controlled. I match my breaths with my punches, settling into a practiced rhythm. Telvin pushes me hard, but I don’t let his comments get to me again.

After a particularly grueling round, he steps back and nods. “Better. Much better.”

“Thanks,” I say, wiping sweat from my brow. I feel proud of the way I was able to recover and the turmoil in my mind has actually seemed to calm a bit.

“Remember,” Telvin says, “it’s not just about strength or speed. It’s about control. You could potentially win a fight with the strongest man, if you keep your cool and your control in the heat of a fight. You’ve got the basics down. Now, work on keeping your head in the game.”

“I will,” I promise, feeling a renewed sense of determination.

---