Fight to the Finish by Shannon Greenland

boxing the air and dropped to her fists for a rapid round of pushups. She boinged to her feet and turned around. “Good you’re here.”
    David, TL, and Jonathan walked in behind us.
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Bruiser bounced from foot to foot, like I’d seen athletes do when they were trying to keep their bodies warm. “Okay.” She clapped her hands. “Six days left to make Mystic and David competitive fighters. Today we’re doing a little bit of everything. Striking, take down, submission. Like I said, MMA.”
    “And right when you’re the most tired,” Bruiser continued, “we’re taking it outside in the fashion of the Greeks. We’re going to throw rocks, run piggy backed with one another, bench press each other, military press wood beams, and squats until you drop. No modern day equipment. We’re going to condition our bodies like the warriors used to.”
    I got exhausted just listening to the rundown.
    A shadow flicked in my peripheral vision, and I turned to see an average sized man with a bushy gray beard step into the barn.
    “Sounds like the Molly I know,” the man said.
    “Red!” Molly squealed and sprinted across the barn.
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    CHAPTER SEVEN
 
    With a smile, I watched Bruiser and Red embrace.
    “How’s my spunky Molly?” Red asked, squeezing her tight.
    She returned the squeeze. “Oh, Red, I missed you so much.”
    Every since I had known her, Bruiser had always been happy go lucky, fun, never took anything serious. And she pretty much wore a perpetual grin on her face. But seeing her here with Red brought out a glow in her that I had never seen before. She seemed to beam with excitement, and for the first time since I’d known her, her body came across relaxed, content.
    Which was funny, seeing as how I had never noticed that she seemed un content in any way until now. It was amazing how much body language showed a person’s emotions.
    “How do you feel?” Bruiser asked as she stepped back from Red. “You look great.”
    Smiling down at her, he tweaked her chin. “I’m fine. Perfect in fact.”
    “How long are you here for?” she asked.
    Red glanced over her head to TL. “We’ll find out in a second.”
    TL crossed the barn to where Red stood and went straight into his arms. No handshake.
    No greeting. Just a heartfelt, long hug. Red turned his head and whispered something into TL’s ear, and he nodded his head.
    Although TL’s back was to me, I imagined his eyes squeezed tight as he received the warm embrace. I probably didn’t, but I thought I heard TL sniff back tears. That sound, that small sniffle, brought tears to my own eyes, and at that moment, I truly felt TL’s pain.
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And for the first time ever, I saw TL in a different light. I saw him vulnerable, just a man fighting for his family. I saw him human, as weird as that sounds, and not as some sort of super hero immune to pain and able to accomplish anything.
    Red whispered something else to TL and gave him a pat on the back. TL discreetly rubbed his face on Red’s shirt, took a deep breath, and turned to us.
    “Team,” TL addressed us. “I’d like you to meet the man who raised both me and Bruiser, our father, Mr. Red Cartlynn.”
    By ‘father’ I knew he didn’t mean blood related, but it made no difference. Here stood the man who raised both TL and Bruiser. How crazy was that? Every day around this place revealed something new—that was for sure.
    “Please feel free to call him Red,” TL continued. “You are standing in the presence of one of the most highly decorated veterans in our nation. An Army Ranger, sniper, with four combat tours in Vietnam. Later recruited into the CIA. Went MIA in southeast Asia. Crossed the border into Thailand. Studied under the world’s best fighters. He is one of the elite. However, he still suffers from the lingering affects of hepatitis and malaria while he was a POW.” TL glanced over to Red. “So he’s going to take it easy.”
    Red chuckled. “Complete burnout and being double