Page 38 of Light in Your Eyes (Romero Brothers #1)

Layla

A tear falls from my eye as I wash my face. I sniffle, still thinking about how Marco died. I pat my face with a towel and stare at the mirror, finding my eyes puffy because of crying.

Even though Kellan held me all night long, it still didn't erase the pain in my heart.

It's devastating enough to find out that someone I know committed suicide, and it feels even more horrible that I had a part in that.

I didn't mean to make Marco feel like he lost the only person who understood what it was like to be put in a place where we felt we didn't belong, where everyone else but us would kill to be a part of it.

I brush my teeth, trying to distract my mind with something else, but it's no use.

After finishing my morning routine, I step out of the bathroom. My legs stop short as I find Kellan already waiting for me.

The serious look on his hardened face makes me taken aback. He looks like he has something important to tell me. Dead important.

My heart beats faster. I don't think that I can take another bad news.

"Boxing ring," he says.

I'm at a loss for words.

"Let's go there." The way he says it leaves no room to argue, like he will carry me there if I refuse to go with him.

"The ring?" I echo.

Kellan turns around, expecting me to follow suit, and I do.

"Why?" I ask again, trying to catch up with his long strides.

I can only see his back, but I can imagine the deadly look crossing his expression while we're walking down the hallway. It's still very early in the morning, so it's quite deserted.

"Do you think that I will just let it go after hearing what his brother said to you last night?" he speaks through gritted teeth.

My heart sinks as I remember how Marco's brother threatened me — he told me that I should pay for his brother's death. Chills run through my skin as I think about what he will do to me.

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 his face 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.

He brings me down again but then impatiently tells me to get up for the thousandth time. I don't even know it anymore. I've lost count.

"Again, Layla," he snaps and turns his back to me, preparing for another round.

My heart hurts because of the way he speaks to me.

"I can't," I finally shout, throwing my hands in the air as I stand up. "I can't do this. You're being too aggressive. How can I defeat someone like you?"

My chest rises and falls, but then my voice softens, "Just, please. Turn it down a little." I sound helpless, literally begging him.

"No," he growls. His body is shaking with anger. "Are you crazy? Someone who attacks you may want to kill you. He's not going to back down," he hollers, his eyes wide in fury.

I’d never seen Kellan this angry, and I've seen him angry a lot. We have to stop this. This is not good. This is hurting him too, maybe even more than it is hurting me.

"I haven't even mastered my stance," I say. "This is crazy, Kellan. I can't do it like this. Why don't we take it slow?"

"Because we have no fucking time," he booms, so loudly that his voice is echoing in the basement .

I stare at him in shock, watching him explode. His eyes are red, and the way he's breathing makes me afraid. It's like he can have a heart attack anytime soon.

He's not panting because of the physical exercise. It's because of his anger and fear.

"Again, Layla," he says curtly.

Tears pool in my eyes. I feel so tired and bruised and broken that I may collapse anytime. My head pulses with sharp pain, and the room is spinning.

Is it already dark outside?

For God knows how many times, I fall onto the ground again, unable to defend myself against Kellan's attack. This time, I can't get up again. I can't even move my cheek off the cold cement.

I'm drained, physically and mentally.

"Get up." Kellan's voice is shaking.

I can hear his fear very clearly. I can even feel it all over my bruised body.

"Get up, Layla," he roars.

I close my eyes, letting my tears fall. I can taste it in my mouth while I'm lying here on the ground. My body might be hurting, but it hurts more to see him like this.

Kellan...

You're the one who said that you were not my hero.

Why are you trying so hard to protect me, to the point that it hurts both of us like this?

"Layla." His voice cracks. "Get up. Try it one more time. Just one more time." His voice turns into a pained whisper. "Try not to die."

But I'm already dying.

"It hurts," I cry softly. "I can't even move my body. Kellan — " I finally let my sob break.

Kellan rushes toward me and gets down on his knees. He turns my body so that I can lie down with my back on his lap. He wraps his arms around me.

"Fuck. I'm sorry." His eyes are glassy, and I swallow a lump in my throat. "I'm sorry, Layla," he rasps.

"I — "

"Shh," he cuts me off. "No need to speak."

His eyes are filled with guilt and sorrow. The sight breaks me. I want to see the light in them again.

"Just rest," he says. "I'm going to take care of you."

I sigh, feeling him tighten his hold on me.

Before I know it, I'm drifting off.