Page 50 of Encounter

“Only if you could speak, sugar,” I said, turning to Kitty with a playful smile. “I’m sure you would’ve helped me get my head straight.”

What was it about this person that constantly made me rethink everything? He always looked at me with those timid eyes that seemed to hide so much. Looked at me with such admiration, or whatever it was. Probably thinking I was so much better than him, but I was just as unsure and unsteady in our interactions.

It had been too long since I was around anynormalperson. Lydy was probably the last. The last innocent, regular human being I was really close to. Like Galen, she made me different, sincere. There was no role I had to play. I didn’t have to change; I was only able to unlock this weird part of me I couldn’t by myself.

Sitting up on the bed and resting my feet on the ground, I stretched my neck and ran my eyes over the room. I needed to stop thinking about it. I needed to stop finding a way to bring Lydy back. It wasn’t good for me, nor for him...

The dinner with mygrandparents was only a day away, which was why I welcomed another training session with Chast so very much. Of course, I was mortified after what happened last time and spent what felt like hours thinking about how awkward it was going to be. In the end, Chast acted like nothing changed. It was obvious he was going to be the one capable of skipping past it. It probably meant nothing to him, and I tried to believe that, too.

This time, Chast decided we should move to the machines. There was less space to fail and to think, only simple, straight-forward movements.

The more I thought about it, therewassomething different. He was a little quieter than usual. Perhaps it was his work? I hoped it was. I hoped he didn’t feel disgusted, regretting what he did every time he looked at me.

“Have you gone for a run?” he asked, sitting on a bench close to me, training his biceps with a weight too heavy for me to lift even with both arms.

“Yeah!” I announced excitedly. “It was a little hard to get used to at the beginning... My lungs were burning so bad.” Looking down, I chuckled. Probably a stupid thing to get pumped about, running a few miles, but it meant a lot to me—actually getting back into it. I hoped I

would last. “Felt good at the end, though.”

“As it should,” Chast replied. He puffed out his chest and softened his eyes, like he was… proud of me. “Told you. Running’s probably gonna be the best for you right now. Later, when you get more confident, you can decide what else you want to do.”

As sad as it was, I usually let Dad decide most aspects of my life. I studied business like he wanted, went to the school he wanted me to, and was groomed to continue his legacy in a job I didn’t really care about. Felt better that way, I suppose. Easier, not having to burden myself with hard decisions.

“If those assholes at school give you any trouble, you should probably just focus on giving them one surprise smack and runnin’—hence, you buildin’ up your stamina.”

Even thethoughtof trying to fight back against Blake or anyone else made my stomach clench. I might have been getting better at all this, but I was nowhere near prepared for any kind of a fight.

Glancing at me when I didn’t respond, Chast continued, voice calm and calculated. “You’ve got to concentrate on the weak spots, to get ‘em disorientated. Manage to hit their temples, ears, punch them in the fucking throat. Though—I’d be a little careful with the last one,” he added, smirking. My mind already provided the memory of what happened when Chast used that move last time, incapacitating the guy outside the club. “You don’t want to accidentally go down for manslaughter.”

To him, it sounded funny, but my anxious mind already decided it was probably better to get beaten up again.Not going for the neck, thank you.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I mumbled after a while, focusing on the weights again.

“They aren’t some fuckin’ martial artists. Just some spoiled little shits.” Chast sneered, making me look at him. “While you’re driven by fear, they’re driven by their inflated ego. Every time they mess you up, they feel better and stronger. They won’t stop unless you push back—remind them of their place. Believe me, they know it.” Something in his tone, a passing hint of vulnerability forced me to meet his eyes. He didn’t look away, but paused with his lifting, like he was deciding something. “You can trust me on that. I was one of them, once,” he admitted with a bitter, distant grimace.

He said it like he wanted it to not mean anything, shrugging and looking away.

---