Kora Exiled (Kora Series Book 2) Read online

  “That’s right!” Trent shouts. “Run away, you coward!”

  “Trent, are you crazy?!” I exclaim. “He would have killed you! What are you thinking?!”

  He glares at me. “You might better tell me what you were thinking. How can you allow him to treat you that way?”

  I groan exasperatedly, “We were just training. He’s teaching me martial arts.”

  “Really? It didn’t look like martial arts to me. He was on top of you, holding you down…”

  “That’s exactly what a ground fight looks like,” I cut him off, furious. “Which I was winning! I was about to knock him off me.”

  “So you were enjoying yourself? You like when he grabs you and rubs against you and…”

  “Stop it!” I scream, covering my ears and shutting my eyes. “Please don’t say anything more. That’s nasty!”

  He grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me, forcing me to look at him.

  “Nasty is what you were letting him do to you,” he states. “You’re acting like a slut. Don’t you have any self-respect?”

  I stare at him, wide-eyed and bewildered, feeling like he just threw dirt in my face. I don’t know what to say.

  “I asked you to stay away from him,” he says. “Why didn’t you listen to me?”

  I move a step back, taking a deep breath. I force myself to open my mouth and speak, “I have to learn how to fight. I need the ability to defend myself and others.”

  He laughs, “That’s nonsense.” He looks down at me and adds, “I don’t want you doing these so-called martial arts anymore.”

  I start losing it.

  “But I love it!” I shout. “I enjoy training! It makes me feel strong and powerful! I’m sick of being weak! I want to become just like Maxie!”

  He shakes his head, “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I want to be a warrior,” I add.

  He groans and suddenly grabs my hair, yanking my head down.

  “Ouch!” I wince, bending over. “What are you doing?!”

  “So you want to be a warrior,” he says. “All right then. Prove to me you can fight.”

  I stand motionless. My scalp hurts. I realize I can grab and break his fingers. I can elbow him in the stomach or kick him in the groin. My instincts scream many different things I could do right now. But I don’t do anything, because how can I hurt someone I love?

  He finally releases me. I take a step away and smooth my hair, scowling.

  “I’m just trying to demonstrate how unreasonable you are being,” he explains. “You’re vulnerable. Anyone could easily hurt you. Especially that psychotic Wreck. Please stay away from him. I’m only trying to help here.”

  “If you truly want to help,” I say, “then stop interrupting my training.”

  “Fine!” he shouts. “Go back to him then!” He shoves me away. “I don’t care what he does with you! Just don’t come crying to me later, after he takes advantage of you. Because it’s going to be your own fault. You’re putting yourself in harm’s way.”

  My mind begins racing. I want to claw at his face, but can’t bring myself to do it.

  So I start yelling instead, “He doesn’t have any advantage to take! I’m a killer! I’m not scared of anyone!”

  He winces in disgust. “You’re a psycho too then.”

  “That’s right! And I’ve always been!”

  After he walks away, I run back inside the house, pick up the knife I’d dropped earlier, and head to my room. I grab a pillow and hit it with an open palm, then start kicking the bed. My level of disappointment and anger is overwhelming.

  Samantha enters the room and I turn to face her, ashamed of my behavior.

  “Are you all right?” she asks worriedly.

  I manage a small smile, “I’m fine.”

  We both sit on the bed. Her presence is soothing.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come to check on you earlier,” she says. “Martha got very scared by those roamers. I had to comfort her.”

  “That’s okay,” I say. “I’ll be fine.”

  She averts her eyes. “I heard you and Trent arguing… My friend, a girl from the Factory, was dating him back in the Recycling village. She mentioned he was always very possessive and jealous.”

  I don’t say anything.

  After Samantha leaves, I put on my jacket and go back outside. I need to spend some time alone.

  ***

  I sit under a tree in the woods. It’s getting dark. I’m exhausted and hungry, but have no desire to return to the house.

  My thoughts race. Should I listen to Trent? Does he have the right to tell me what to do? I really don’t know. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. And I don’t want to be controlled again because I’ve already been controlled for so long. I want… I’m not certain what I want. Trent isn’t even my boyfriend. Am I really putting myself in a dangerous situation, hanging out with Wreck?

  I replay the argument with Trent in my mind, and suddenly feel repulsed. I wish I could care less about him. But I have a weakness inside me, anxiety, that doesn’t let me think straight, that makes me unstable and erratic.

  I rise to my feet, pull my knife and begin stabbing the tree.

  “Hate you! Hate you! You stupid jerk!”

  Anger fills me like a spreading poison.

  “Tsk, tsk. Such a temper,” I hear Wreck’s voice from behind.

  I turn to face him. He’s standing a few feet away, smiling at me with a crooked grin. I lower my knife, embarrassed. I wish he’d leave me alone.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “Looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Supper is ready. You don’t want it to get cold, do you?”

  He approaches and I become uneasy, because now I feel guilty for everything that happened earlier.

  “How did you find me?” I ask.

  “Well, it wasn’t too hard, considering all the commotion you were causing.”

  He must have heard me.

  “I’m not hungry,” I say.

  He scowls, “What’s wrong?”

  I don’t feel like explaining anything to him.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Thanks for not hurting Trent. I apologize for everything he said.”

  He looks at me in surprise, as if hurting somebody is something unimaginable for him.

  “Aww, now. I wouldn’t beat up your boyfriend. That’s not my style.” His silly grin fades and he adds coldly, “I just need you to understand one thing. If you want me to continue teaching you how to fight, you gotta straighten out your lover boy. Okay? Because I’m not gonna put up with his continued showing up and insulting me. My patience has limitations.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” I promise. “He’s not so bad, you know. He’s just…”

  “Kora,” he interrupts. “I really don’t care if your boyfriend is a good person or not.”

  I look up at him and ask carefully, “You really don’t mind my being with Trent?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Why should I mind? Your personal life is none of my business.”

  “Well, you know.”

  “What the heck am I supposed to know?”

  “Um… nothing, I guess.”

  He gives me a sharp look, his eyes glossy and unblinking. He reminds me of Gabriel sometimes.

  “What’s wrong now?” he asks. “Spit it out.”

  I don’t answer.

  “Hey. Look at me. What’s wrong?”

  The skin of my neck begins tingling where Gabriel was choking me. I draw in a breath and will myself to mutter, “It’s nothing.”

  “I’m not stupid, all right?” he says. “You’ve been acting a bit strange recently. You thought I wouldn’t notice how you’ve been avoiding me?”

  “Just forget it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I try to move past him, but he grabs my hands. We stare at each other. The woods are becoming really dark.

  “You’ll have to talk,” he says slowly. “I’m not gonna let you just walk away. I’m fed up with your acting weird. So we’re not going anywhere until we straighten things out. And I don’t care if it takes all night.”

  “Kris…”

  “We can’t turn against each other. You get that? Tartis and the masters from Central Settlement want to kill us. We have to work as a team.”

  I become silent. He’s still not releasing my hands.

  “C’mon,” he sighs. “It’s just me. You can tell me anything.”

  I feel his fingers tracing the scar on my palm, the one left from our blood oath. I glance at him. He’s waiting.

  “I just can’t stop thinking about one thing,” I say.

  “Go on,” he encourages me.

  “Um… Well. What would have happened, if I hadn’t had Gabriel’s knife that night? Would you have just… killed me?”

  He lets go of my hands, taking a step back.

  “Seriously? Is that what you think of me? Dang, Kora. You know I wasn’t even a killer back then. Of course I wouldn’t have killed you. I’d have just cut you loose.”

  “Good to know,” I mutter. I can’t decide whether I believe him or not.

  “Anything else?”

  I shake my head, “That’s about it.”

  “I’m not buying it. What else?”

  I don’t answer, staring intently at the ground.

  “Supper is getting really cold,” he reminds me. “You’d best start talking.”

  “Well, it’s just…” I pause, collecting my thoughts. My hands begin shaking. “I can’t figure you out. You scare me sometimes. I don’t know what you really want from me or… or what you expect from our relationship. You always make jokes and you… I don’t know whether I could stop you or not, fight you off if you lost self-control and…” I pause again, realizing that my words make little sense. “I don’t know if it’s really enough for you to just be my friend. I don’t feel safe around you.”

  I run out of breath and glance at him.

  “Well, I think I get it now,” Wreck says flatly, becoming quiet.

  I claw at my hand, waiting for his reaction. Please don’t be angry, I beg silently. I’m so worn out and weak at the moment. I have no strength for another argument.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “For what?” he asks.

  “Please, let’s just go back to the house.”

  “Relax. We’re not quite done yet. It’s my turn to speak now.”

  I stand frozen, my back pressed against the tree. I’m afraid of what I’m about to hear.

  “Well,” he begins. “Let me get this straight. You must be wondering whether I’d like to have sex with you or not. Right? Well, honestly…” He pauses, grinning. “Heck yes. I’d like to very much.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, staring at him.

  “Don’t take it personally, okay?” he continues. “I just currently don’t have a girlfriend. So I’m actually needing to get laid. Really any girl who agrees would do. I wish I could stop thinking about you that way, but I can’t help it. But guess what? You shouldn’t give a second thought to what I think. It’s not your concern. And I believe I’ve already told you this before. So in answering your question, is it enough for me to be your friend… Well, yeah. It’s more than enough. I don’t have many friends, you know. So I truly appreciate and value your friendship. Trust me on that.”

  I listen to him, chewing my lower lip, fighting my growing anxiety. I have no idea why he wants to be my friend. What does he get from that?

  “As for my silly jokes,” he adds, “it’s just a bad habit. I don’t mean anything. I’m just trying to distract myself. Because when I’m not talking crap, I start thinking too much. And overthinking never leads to anything good.”

  I nod in understanding. Trying to block persistent thoughts happens to be a personal field of expertise.

  “Are we good now?” he asks. “You trust me, right?”

  I make myself smile, “Sure.”

  “Relax, just breathe,” he laughs, nudging my shoulder. “Let’s go eat. Maxie won’t leave anything if we don’t hurry. She’ll have our plates licked clean.”

  I laugh nervously. We head back toward Jin’s.

  “I could stop making those jokes,” he says quietly. “If it really bothers you, just say so.”

  I shrug, “I don’t really mind.”

  “Cool,” he grins.

  We walk a few minutes in silence, then I sigh, “Goodness sakes, Kris. We should really try to find you a girlfriend.”

  “Well, that’s kinda problematic.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like commitment. Why have one girl when I could have many?”

  I turn to face him, frowning.

  “What?” he chuckles. “Why are you staring at me like that? I’m way too good to belong to only one girl.”

  “So you’re a cheater,” I state.

  “I just prefer a little variety. Unfortunately, not many girls are willing to put up with that. They always break up with me.”

  He winks at me, flashing a sly smile. I remember him boasting how many girlfriends he’s had in the past. I don’t know why I’m so surprised.

  What I do know is that I still don’t trust him. I realize he’s a skilled manipulator. I believe he has some secrets, and that he’s concealing something really important from me. I must learn his secrets. I need to find out who he really is.

  CHAPTER 9

  Wreck and I work hard, two hour sessions each day. He takes time showing me how to safely fall, how to circle, and move my feet. I learn to watch for any weaknesses or openings in my opponent, and how to attack a weakness when spotted. He teaches me low kicks to keep them off me, then punches to distract or set them up. I learn how to off-balance my opponent and throw them or take them down.

  The training isn’t seamless though.

  He explains how there’s only one major rule during our practicing. I must tap out when I feel pain or just become too uncomfortable and want to stop a fight. But of course I don’t listen. I’m not just going to give up in a real fight.

  One day he arm bars me and I grind my teeth in pain, terrified that he’s about to break my arm. I refuse to give up though, just suffer silently, pleading in my mind for him to let me go.

  He does finally release me right before my bone snaps. He scowls, watching me with his cold gray eyes.

  “Kora,” he says slowly. “You either have the most flexible joints I’ve ever seen, or you’re just not tapping when your joint is locked.”

  “It didn’t hurt yet,” I say innocently.

  “You gotta tap, all right?” He glares at me. “I don’t want to accidently injure you.”

  “Okay,” I nod, smiling. “But it didn’t hurt much.”

  Sometimes I get frustrated and angry while sparring with him. I can never seem to win. He always takes me down and submits me. I sometimes fail to block his kicks and punches. He doesn’t go full speed of course, so I don’t really get hurt. But I so wish to at least once overpower him, make him tap out in pain. I want to be a winner, not a loser. Overall, I get praised when I do well, and grow in confidence and ability each day.

  Samantha has joined me in my morning runs a couple of weeks ago. We jog down a deserted road, two former racers doing what we’re trained to do. One day we arrive at a large meadow and sit in the grass, just resting and watching the horizon.

  “I miss our village,” she mutters. “I so wish I could go back. I want to see my parents again.”

  Our home village is the nastiest, most miserable place on earth, but I understand her desire to return. My heart begins aching. I’d willingly become a trash picker again, if it would only bring my mother back.

  “I’m sorry,” I sigh. I don’t know what else to say. I guess living far away from home is much easier for me. I have nobody left back there.

  “I don’t really like being free,” she confesses. “I’d rather be a slave and live with my family, than be free and all alone.”

  “You’re not alone,” I say, although I know my words won’t help much. How can I replace her family? Nobody can.

  An hour later as we’re approaching Jin’s, we see a funny scene occurring in the front yard. Wreck is on his hands and knees, apparently pretending to be some type of animal. Martha and Tanya throw him small chunks of bread, which he catches in his mouth. Tanya attempts to pat his head, but he bares his teeth and barks at her. She jumps away, giggling.

  “What’s this?” Samantha laughs.

  “Kris, show us some magic tricks!” Tanya demands.

  Wreck executes her request, pulling out a large silver coin. He places the coin in his left palm, then has them guess which fist holds it. I already know what’s about to happen. Martha points at his left fist, and the coin is in the right one. The girls begin clapping in excitement. I watch him, smiling. He’s no longer the intimidating, brutal guy who cut off his uncle’s head or attacked me in the woods. There’s now something clownish about him.

  My smile suddenly fades, and I experience a surge of adrenaline. Where could a high master’s son learn all these tricks? I remember his aunt, Agatha, calling him Nicholas for some inexplicable reason. I recall Wreck telling me about a homeless, abused boy his family adopted, one who traveled with thieves.

  I feel like I’m about to scream.

  But I remain silent of course, just continue watching him warily. After the show is over, I approach him.

  “Where did you learn all those magic tricks?” I ask.

  “From my brother. Well, I mean my stepbrother. His former handlers taught him all that stuff. We often performed shows together for my family.”

  He grins, looking me straight in the eyes. I can’t tell whether he’s telling the truth or not.

  “What was your brother’s name?” I ask.

  “Daniel,” he answers quickly. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just being curious,” I lie. “You two were close, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah, he was a nice kid. Real shy and quiet. I always felt sorry for him.”

  I nod, thinking over his words. Could a homeless, lowborn kid receive the tattoo of the high master’s clan? I don’t know. I have no idea who Wreck really is.