Crossing the Line by Meghan Rogers Page A

mean?”
    I rolled my eyes. “You’ve wanted complete control from day one.” He gritted his teeth, but didn’t interrupt. “Now we’re doing what
I
say. If you don’t like it, you can fight me over it.”
    He ignored me. “There are private training rooms in the back. We’re going where no one can watch.”
    I cocked my head to the side. “You’re that embarrassed to be seen with me?”
    His lips were pressed together so firmly, they practically disappeared. I was on the very last of his extremely frayed nerves. “It’s bad enough we have to do this; I don’t want to spend the rest of today explaining myself to everyone else. Everything doesn’t have to go myway, but this does.”
    He stalked off down the hall, not bothering to wait for me. I followed him, more because not following would be seen as not cooperating, which he could use against me.
    The private workout room was like a smaller, slightly less equipped version of the gym. The walls and floor were covered with padded gym mats, and an assortment of weapons hung in a case on the upper half of the wall. There was also a punching bag in the corner, as well some other training equipment scattered around the edges of the room. Scorpion had taken off his sweatshirt and thrown it in the corner by the time I had caught up to him.
    He didn’t say anything else, he just rounded on me and rocked up on the balls of his feet, his arms bent in front of him waiting for a fight.
    I followed suit. I wasn’t much for playing defense but, in this case, I wanted to see what he was going to throw at me before I committed to anything. And I knew he was too impatient to wait me out. He lasted all of ten seconds before he threw the first punch, which I dodged easily. I swung a punch of my own, knowing he would sidestep, then I swiped my leg at his knees. He recovered in enough time to jump, but just barely. He hit me hard in the stomach. Harder than Nikki had earlier, and he didn’t feel even a little bit bad.
    I breathed tightly through my nose, pushing away the pain. I couldn’t slow down. I couldn’t show any weakness. He picked up the pace and I struggled to keep up. We traded punches and kicks, dancing across the mat. I lost track of everything—time, space, and even the addiction. Nothing else mattered. He was taking out years of pent-up frustration on me, and I had to fight to find the motivation or endurance to match his pace. I have no idea how long we were goingat it before I finally got the upper hand. I grabbed Scorpion’s wrist, turned so my back was to him, then flipped him over my shoulder.
    But he was quick enough to grab my forearm. He slammed into the mat and used his momentum to pull me down with him, twisting me until we were both lying on our backs panting. Simmonds was right. It was the best workout I’d had since I got out of KATO.
    Scorpion didn’t rest for more than a moment. He popped up before I could get to my feet, and grabbed two wooden staffs that were stored on the wall with the other practice weapons. He tossed one at me as I stood, and I caught it just in time to keep it from hitting me in the face. “Let’s make this a little more interesting,” he said.
    I curled my fingers around the staff, shifting uneasily. I was breathing hard, feeling more winded than usual, but I refused to quit. Scorpion seemed faster than I was used to him being, but I could tell I was starting to wear him out. Still, he had caught his breath much more quickly than I had, and he didn’t wait for me to recover. He spun the staff at my head and when I moved to block it, he flicked his wrist and swung at my side. I pulled my staff down, just stopping his from colliding with my ribs. I jabbed it back into Scorpion’s stomach but it didn’t slow him down. He retaliated quickly, striking my side, and this time I couldn’t avoid it. My rib cage