Page 10 of The Lost Kings

Presley

M y hand hurt, but I just shook it and jumped in place.

“Do you want to wrap them?” Scotty asked, lifting a dark brow.

I should cover my knuckles; I knew that, but since I had started learning these combos, it was easier to land them and memorize them if I felt the bag against my skin.

I wasn’t hitting it hard enough to do much damage, just learning the positions, but after an hour, there was a sting and the tiniest amount of blood left behind.

I shook my head. My uncle Scotty just moved to the side and placed his hands in front of him while gesturing for me to continue.

My fingers curled into a fist and the punch landed against the bag in a soft thud.

“Again,” Scotty ordered, and my mind began to go where it usually did when I started these combinations. Somewhere warm, that smelled like freshly cut grass. Somewhere hidden from the world, where animals lazily dozed and flowers bloomed. To the farm that I would one day live on.

One with animals and golden flowers .

“Begin with the kicks,” Scotty directed me. He checked the dogs lying next to him and whispered something in German.

He’d taught me which words would get them to do what. I knew if I wanted Rex to sit, I had to say, sitzen.

And if Scotty wanted one of the dogs to attack, he merely said, toten.

He practiced on the dummies at the farm sometimes, and I got to watch how terrifying the dogs were when ordered to kill.

The most terrifying of all of Scotty’s dogs was Reaper when he tore into one of the dummies.

Stuffing would fly everywhere, and his lips would peel back, revealing rows of dangerously sharp teeth.

“Now mix it up, punch while?—”

“There you are.” My mother interrupted Scotty, pushing through the gym doors.

She eyed my knuckles then the dogs near Scotty’s feet.

Her jaw did that thing that I noticed when she was mad at Dad or Scotty, and usually it only happened when she found them training me.

It would set into a firm line, and her lips would push together as if she were holding back a million thoughts.

“Scotty, can I please talk to you out in the hall?”

My father’s uncle wasn’t much older than Dad or Mom, but sometimes the lines near his eyes and mouth made him seem ancient. He argued with anyone when they tried to interrupt my training, except for my mom. She, he would never argue with…at least not in front of me.

“Sure.” Scotty gave me a look that I’d seen a million times. It was to clean up the small amount of blood my knuckles left behind on the bag, and then to go soak my hands in disinfectant.

I did as he wanted and began cleaning the bag while the dogs remained with me, but after a few seconds, I heard my mom yelling, which piqued my curiosity.

I dropped the spray bottle of cleaner and tiptoed over to the gym door.

Soft mats lined the walls to dull the noise, intermixed with mirrors.

The floor was also a mix of mats and thin black rubber, which muted my steps as I trailed closer to the doors.

Through the crack, I saw my mom’s eyes wide and round. Dad said I inherited the blue from her gaze. Her hair was the same color as mine, and nearly just as long. She wore hers down and straight, while mine was usually tucked into a braid.

Mom had on leggings and a tank top while her feet were bare. Which meant, she likely walked over from our wing of the house.

“This was never run past me,” she yelled. Her chin wobbled, which had my focus back on their argument.

Scotty’s back was straight with thick lines of definition.

“I assumed Kyle told you.”

My mom laughed, but it didn’t sound funny.

“He said she was training, but no one ever said my daughter would be punching a bag without gloves until her knuckles bled.” She pointed at the door, knowing I was behind it. Her face was starting to get red.

Panic flipped around in my chest. I didn’t want her to take away my training; it was the only thing that seemed to be an outlet for me, and it was the only thing that felt like it made sense.

I knew my mom wished I was more like her.

She probably wanted me to be like my cousin Carter and the twins’ sister, Alex, but that didn’t feel right.

I liked running around the property line wearing a weighted vest. I enjoyed shooting and throwing knives. I liked learning to fight.

“This needs to stop, Scotty.”

He stepped closer to her, putting his hands out. “You agreed to this, Rylie.”

“I never agreed to this . Look at her, Scotty. She has bruises on half her body; her knuckles are shredded.”

My mom’s eyes watered, her arms came in and tucked in close over her chest.

He stepped closer. “You placed your life in my hands once upon a time. Trust me with her, Rylie. I would never do anything to hurt her. ”

I’d never witnessed Scotty sound so…soft. He seemed like a human with her; whereas with everyone else, he was cold and gruff. To be fair, he was that way with Mom most of the time too, but something about her fear seemed to force out this side of him.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I just—we almost lost Kyle and hearing what she saw and had to do that night…it keeps me up at night. I hate what we’re subjecting her to. She doesn’t get to just be a normal little girl, Scotty.”

“What does anyone know of what normal constitutes, Rylie? There is no way for any person, especially a little girl, to be normal. No code, no law that suggests how they should be or who they’ll become.

Presley is normal because she arrives every day with a smile on her face, and the day that changes, I will pull her out. I swear that to you.”

Uncle Scotty stepped closer and pulled my mom into a hug, which made my eyes go wide. I’d never seen him hug anyone before. Her arms came around him as she hugged him back, and suddenly Dad walked into the hallway, watching them with a smile.

It was muffled, but I heard Scotty say, “This is a risk and it’s taking a toll on all of us.”

My mom had tears streaming down her cheeks as she nodded, then she sobbed.

“What if we’re making a mistake by allowing her to train like Kyle trained?”

My dad’s uncle didn’t get to respond because my dad finally stepped forward, away from the stairs.

“Scotty, you’re such a softy. Don’t let anyone see you or else your cold-hearted cover will be blown.”

Scotty finally let my mom go and then ruffled her hair. “She’s still the only person who’s ever stood up to me. She’s earned my respect, and a few hugs.”

“I stand up to you all the time,” my dad argued and it made me smile.

Scotty shook his head and turned back toward the doors, where I was spying. I started running back, but the dogs were right behind me, which made it awkward when they started running after me.

I heard laughing and then my dad ran after me, catching me mid-run.

“Caught ya.”

And just like that, I remembered exactly why I was enduring the training Scotty put me through.

Why I hit the bag until my knuckles bled, and why I endured bruises and broken fingers.

I did it because one night my dad was nearly ripped out of my world, and I’d do anything to prevent that from ever happening again.

I arched the line into something that resembled a barn and then bit my lip while I erased it, only to reshape it again.

I was with the twins, trying not to think about how badly my hands hurt, or how frequently they kept glancing at them.

I just wanted to forget for a while and be their friend who liked fluffy cows, the farmhouse next door, and stargazing.

“What animal is going to sleep up there?” Gio slid into the chair next to me, moving my paper toward him.

I pulled it back and shrugged. “Charlotte.”

Gio’s brow lifted, while his eye narrowed. Just the left one. It was weird that only his left eye moved when he did that with his eyebrows, but it’s how it always had been.

“A pig?”

“The spider.” Kingston’s smooth voice cut into our conversation as he peeled an apple by the sink.

I saw luggage being pulled out of storage and left near the family wings, which meant we would be leaving again.

My parents told me we were headed out on yet another vacation, but I caught Uncle Scotty packing weapons, some similar to the one he’d placed in my hand and others that were larger but just as deadly.

And just like that my bubble had burst. In the manor it was easy to forget that there were people out there who wanted to hurt us. That all the training I did had a purpose behind it.

It was possible that I didn’t know everything about Dad and Scotty’s business, but I understood enough to know that our world was a sandcastle built on a beach with choppy waters and unpredictable tides. Any second and it could wash away.

Gio slid my paper closer and then took my pencil. He started marking the white sky with little dots and a large moon. “Now, it’s for stargazing. Your spider can live up there, but so can a pig if it wants…”

King laughed while shaking his head. “You and your stars.”

Sometimes the fact that they were twins made me look at them longer just to piece out the differences.

They both had black hair that made me think of raven feathers.

Their skin was the warmest brown that was most similar to their dad’s and grandmother’s.

I once overheard Gio’s mother saying that when he was born, he had stars in his eyes.

His were more silver and grayer than blue. It looked like trapped starlight.

King’s eyes were amber, like a muted fire, trapped behind glass.