Consumed by Skyla Madi

ones, but I like how light these are and they came with a thumb loop and Velcro, making it easier to wrap. Selena helps me slide into a small pair of gloves. They’re tight, but I can feel the support around my wrist. I bend my knees slightly and slam my gloved fists into the bag. I count out even rhythms and numbers in my head. I love boxing. I haven’t done much of it over the past few years, even less now that Seth dominates this area, but it’s a nice release for me. Blade doesn’t like females boxing, apparently, there’s something emasculating and manly about it. Pfft.
    “Olly?” I glance up to see Dad stepping out of the training room. He’s wearing a hooded jacket and a pair of black sweat pants—something I haven’t really seen him wear in a while.
    “Good morning Mr. James.” Selena greets him, sliding her sunglasses onto the top of her head. She’s always referred to my dad as Mr. James even though they’ve known each other since I was in primary school.
    “Hey Sel. How are ya? How’s ya dad?”
    “I’m good and he’s great, thanks for asking.”
    Dad turns his attention back to me. “I haven’t seen you box in a while.”
    I glance down at the gloves. “Yeah, I felt like it this morning.”
    “Come, I want to show you something.” He grabs me by the forearm and he pulls me toward the training room.
    “Can’t you just tell me what you want to show me? I have a good imagination.” I say, knowing very well that Dad wants me to see something that has to do with Seth. Selena jumps out of her chair to follow closely behind us. A man with flawless dark skin steps out of the room, preventing us from entering. His eyes are a nice golden color with dark brown specks. They’re comforting. My eyes drop to the stopwatch that hangs around his neck and I realize he was here yesterday, too.
    “Uh, Rick. I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s in a pretty foul mood this morning.” He says to Dad.
    “It’s only my daughter, Darryl. He’ll be fine.”
    Dad steps past Darryl, pulling me into the training room and I gasp out loud as I witness Seth drive his knee into his spar partner’s face. My hands immediately cover my mouth and my pulse kicks up a notch, sending dangerous levels of nausea through my stomach. Seth whips around to face me at the sound of my gasp. His eyes are as dark as volcanic glass and they startle me. I don’t like fighting—play, practice or otherwise and being in the presence of someone who does it for a living makes me uncomfortable. Thankfully, the spar partner has a face guard on and isn’t hurt too badly, but I still can’t bring my hands away from my face. The sparer—or victim, rather—climbs shakily to his feet and saunters to join the rest of them on the other side of the room.
    “Awesome.” Selena whispers beside me.
    Seth’s chest rises and falls rapidly. Under the lights, I see the sweat glisten on his body. He’s wearing a pair of shorts with the slits in the side and his hands are wrapped in white. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s soft gauze and surgical tape.
    When I look away from Seth I notice everyone else in the room. There has to be at least twenty people in here. Twelve of them are in suits and lined against the wall taking notes and discussing things under their breath. One is the coach and the others are battered spar partners stretching out their wounds and groaning in the far corner. Had Seth hurt them all?
    Of course he had.
    Beside me, Dad is all giddy and excited, making me feel even more nauseous. I drop my hands to my sides as Dad looks at me. This is what he wanted to show me?
    “You don’t look too well.” Dad says, chuckling at me. He knows exactly how I feel about fighting. Whenever he made me watch his MMA fights I’d sit next to him with my eyes squeezed tightly shut. I don’t know what it is, but every time flesh connects with flesh... I feel sick.
    “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen her last night.”