Page 17 of Ruthless Deliverance

Time escapes me as I zone out, totally focusing on my technique and feeling of the soreness spreading through my body. Already drenched in sweat, I don’t plan on stopping until movement on my left pulls me out of my focus.

Mr. Thibaut. I’m trying to get away from Sacred Creed Academy and it finds me in the form of my calculus teacher. He looks much different outside of school, his suit and tie replaced with a muscle shirt and shorts. He steps closer as I pluck out my earbud. “Dani, I thought that was you. Having a good workout?”

“Yep.” And since my groove is disrupted, I grab my water bottle, taking a swig as I try to catch my breath. Damn. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve worked out.

“I can’t say I’m surprised to find you here after the unpleasant incident in class.” He gives me a half grimacing, half smile shoulder shrug.

No one wants to admit it, especially staff, but no one was bothered by Beau getting his nose smashed. “Yeah. Hopefully that’ll be the only incident.”

“I’m sure it will be. Sometimes the person serving the lesson is more important than the actual lesson.”

“Um. Okay.” Not sure how to take that. Not sure I should care, but a teacher talking to a student so casually is throwing me a bit.

“I just mean, you knocking him in the nose serves as a better reminder than if I’d done it. Not that I can, being his teacher and all.” He sounds more disappointed by the latter than anything, but he is our teacher.

“Good point, Mr. Thibaut.”

“You can call me Dominic.” His sexy smile definitely isn’t one a teacher should give their student, and his following words add to the notion. “I could use a sparring buddy if you’re up for it.”

Damn. Sparring would be better than punching a stationary bag, but that doesn’t sit right. At all. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything.”

“Trouble, nah. I can be off of calculus duty and step in for some combat training. Although, I have a feeling I’d be better as the student from some of the moves I’ve seen from you.” Yeah. Not a good idea but before I can respond, he asks, “Are you training for a fight? I might be an outdated, stuffy instructor but even I know there’s action going down at the Lion’s Den.”

The Lion’s Den. It takes me a second to place where I’ve heard the term. The counselor. Boswell said I could visit his office if I needed a break from “the lion’s den.” I’d written it off as a reference to the school’s mascot. “The Lion’s Den?”

His arm tenses slightly as he brings it up, his hand cupping his neck. “Dang. Don’t tell me that I’m informing you of something you haven’t heard about. I assumed you’d found out about it, but you know what they say about assuming—don’t, it makes an ass out of you and me.”

“I disagree. I find it typically makes an ass only out of the person making the assumption.”

“Right,” he laughs, moving to the bag as he lightly punches it before leaning against it and facing me. Now, under normal circumstances, in my real life, he’d be fair game. I’m guessing he’s around mid-to-upper twenties, no ring, and not bad to look at. But this isn’t my real life, and right now I just want to get some freakin’ endorphins and Creed (the one very off-limits) out of my mind.

Okay. I need to get any info Thibaut can give me, though, and for him to get off of the bag I’m supposed to be punching to relieve stress. Because right now, it’s bubbling back up as I ask, “So, what’s the Lion’s Den? I’ve heard mention of it but few details.”

“On the record, it’s best I don’t tell you. Off the record,”—he gives me a sly smile that I know should remain off the record also—“it’s an old, abandoned rice factory turned underground fighting arena for students.”

Hm. Underground fighting. Definitely gonna be a hotspot for illegal activities, including drugs. “Nope. I don’t compete. But wouldn’t mind checking it out.”

“Well, you didn’t hear it from me but there’re usually matches on Saturday nights.” His teasing becomes a little more serious. “Just be careful if you decide to go. I mean, I know you can take care of yourself.”

I’m going to take it as concern because I don’t want to look more into it. “Will do.”

Asking Luna to go is yet another bad idea, but it could help if Felix decides to go. Or even if she says something about who’s dealing to Felix. Either way, I’ll have to take a trip to the Den whether I have a plus-one or not.

“So, want to hit the mats with me?”

Okay. So, that is coming off as more than a little shady considering I’m his student. Opting out of this would be the smart decision if I were an actual student. But I’m not. Maybe I’ll find out some useful information in the process and get some frustration out. Win-win. Because apparently, I have another unwanted event to attend tonight. Can’t be any worse than how I’m currently doing. After all, my damn calculus teacher clued me in on the underground fighting going on with the academy kids. Does Boswell know about it too? It might have been a coincidental reference from the school counselor, but I’m curious to find out either way. Hopefully, that other saying—curiosity killed the cat—doesn’t ring true in this case.

17

CREED

“Bruh. Do you not have your phone or something? I’ve been calling you all damn day.” Beau walks across my bedroom, dropping onto the sofa along the far wall.

I remain lying across my bed, unmoving, my eyes on the ceiling. “Been busy.”

“Yeah. You look totally busy right now.”

I haven’t been in this spot long, but Beau is killing the little bit of serenity I have been able to find. My busy day has consisted of actively avoiding my father and reassuring my mother that I was fine. And I am for now.