Page 86 of Light in Your Eyes

In no time, we reach the basement where Kellan usually practices martial arts. My eyes land on the boxing ring, wondering what Kellan will do.

Why is he taking me here?

Kellan takes off his shirt and tosses it down before he even stops walking. Then he turns around to face me, clenching his jaw.

I'm still panting because of rushing here.

"Follow me," he says in a commanding tone, stepping onto the ring.

He stretches out his arm to help me get on to it, and I let him drag me up.

I'm starting to understand where this is going, but I don't think that I'm ready. Kellan, however, seems like he's in a hurry, as if there's nothing else more important than bringing me here. Still, I think that he's rushing it. I'm not prepared for it.

"I'm going to train you," he says.

I swallow.

"You heard him. I can't get it out of my head. He's going to hurt you."

"Kellan—"

"I can't always protect you," he interrupts before I can even speak my mind. "He knows he will be dead if he ever touches you, but he's still going to do it."

The anger radiating from his body is unmistakable. I can see how the situation is shaking him. His fists are clenched tightly at his sides. His chest heaves up and down.

"I'm going to hunt him if he ever dares go near you, but I'm not fucking risk it," he says firmly. "You have to learn how to defend yourself. I can't fucking see, Layla."

I step forward. "Kellan—"

"You're going to start now," he urges. "You're going to fight me as if I were him, and I'm going to teach you to protect yourself."

Without waiting for my response, Kellan strides towards the center of the ring. The menacing look on hisface tells me to approach him, and I reluctantly do it.

I look down at myself. I'm wearing my joggers and T-shirt today. Maybe it should be enough to accommodate my movement, but I’m not prepared. I can't even say that I'm an athletic person. I only exercise regularly for my health. If one should ask how well I exercise or participate in sports, I know that I am below average. That's something I still have to fix.

I gulp and take a deep breath. I want to tell him to not panic and that Marco's brother might just have given me an empty threat, but it seems too late now.

Kellan guides me through the warm-ups, and when it's time to practice, I can't help but become more nervous.

"We'll start now," Kellan says. "I'm going to teach you how to punch, block, and kick."

I watch as Kellan gives me the examples. He does it with so much precision that I wonder if I will ever do it right. He's just too good. The impact of his movement is fatal, but he makes it look so easy.

When it's time for me to do it, he follows closely and guides me through the movement.

"You're doing it wrong," he hisses, as though my mistakes frustrate him to the core. "Make sure that your elbow is not locked. Pull the fist that is not punching back. If you don't do it right, your punch won't be strong. Again."

I pant, trying my best to do it right. It feels impossible to do it perfectly. I wish he could spare me because it's the first time for me to learn how to fight. But Kellan is persistent. He won't stop until I get it right.

I don't even know how long time has passed since we entered the basement.

"Again," he commands.

We have moved to another step because I couldn't nail my punch.

He's now teaching me how to block my enemy's attack, and again, I keep failing miserably.

How could I win if he was the one who attacked me? He's a freaking champion.