Mac (Riders of Apollo #8)

Chapter Seven: Evangeline White

I turn back around to stare at Riley, who has just yelled 'no' at me when I grabbed a bottle of tequila. "Come again?" I ask, genuinely confused as I find the shot glasses with the help of the bartender and unscrew the lid on the bottle.

"The tequila's mine, you can drink the scotch like the old woman you are." Riley teases and my jaw drops. I place my hand over my heart and stare at the ceiling, feigning heart break. "Oh, don't be so upset, ageing is a normal thing after all."

"That hurts, Riley, so much." I sniffle and lift the bottle of tequila, acting like I'm going to put the lid back on and put it back where it came from. "Good thing I have tequila to soothe the pain." I smirk at her as she advances on me with a matching smirk. 

"You wanna spar?"

"You want me to kick your arse again?" I wink, pouring two shots of tequila and sliding one over to her. "I did teach you a lot of what you know." 

"Yes but I've been training with Nova so I have definitely gotten better than you." She replies, outwardly challenging me. "Plus, you're old."

"You're so hung up on my age but I'm only seven years older than you." I point out, watching as her dark hair falls forward to frame her face. I remember her begging me to help her go blonde when she was younger and I could never find the money for it but sometime during her time in the army she changed it. I thought she was still beautiful but the brown hair just suits her so much better.

I sweep some of her hair back and brush her cheek with my fingertips. "No being nice to stop me from fighting you, I think you're scared I'll win." 

"That's not what I was thinking about, sweet. But it is adorable that you think you can beat me." She grabs my hand and tugs me from behind the bar, down some steep stairs and into an open training room. I stop in surprise. The walls are covered with all sorts of gorgeous weapons with targets at the back of the room to practice on. 

In the middle is a massive ring surrounded by training weapons and boxing equipment. There are some computers down here too, probably to monitor the weapons being brought in and out of the place, and it has so much light despite being underground. "Am I dreaming?" I question, making the assembled populace laugh as Riley pulls me again, this time towards the ring. "We're playing with sticks?" 

She hands me the training stick and I spin it, testing it's weight as I walk around the ring. I should probably take my stilettos off but I always find a fight more entertaining when I'm wearing them. 

I match Riley blow for blow as she exerts herself, throwing herself into the movements while I remain on the defence. I think she forgets that I taught her how to move so I can predict her by the smallest blink of an eye or shuffle of the shoulder. She goes low, I move out of the way. She goes high, I block. 

Riley's temper is short though and since she's so well trained she doesn't meet people that can match her, meaning her fights are normally done in about five minutes at the most. We're nearing the twenty minute mark and I can hear people making bets on our progress. 

I remember my first training session in the army where they try to wring out every streetfighter part of me, forcing me to obey their rules and move my body in the way they wanted. I was a very slender fourteen year old, from years of malnutrition I was also weak so I had to rely on speed and stamina, rather than outright force. They didn't like that so much. 

Riley doesn't either. She knows how to move but she uses up too much of her energy in each movement, thinking every single one will be the last. It always was her fatal flaw. "Left side, Riley." I call out, realising where she's weakest. She's allowed through four hits on her left side, too busy following through with her movements and neglecting to predict mine. 

She favours her right side because she's right handed, she feels the need to protect it because it's where her stronger blows come from but it makes it easier for me to disable her if she's not protecting herself. She never has had much thought for her own wellbeing. I duck under her vicious swing, watching as her chest heaves in exertion.

"Why aren't you out of breath yet?" She whines, resettling on the other side of the ring. "At least take your blazer off, you're making me feel overdressed." I roll my eyes and rest my stick on the side of the ring, sliding my jacket off. I try to ignore the startled looks on people's faces when they realise how badly scarred I am. 

My shirt doesn't cover much, it's basically a camisole, so they can see all of my arms and the top half of my back. There's a lot on show that normally isn't. "Better?" I ask, recognising her tactic of giving herself time to breathe. It's cheating but I'll let her have it for now. 

"No, I forgot how good you are." She lashes out again and I parry her blow, landing one on her stomach seconds later. I just shrug and take a slow stroll to the other side of her, allowing her the space she needs to rev up for her next attack. "I'm still pissed that you got to train with McArthur and I got stuck with Jeffery." 

"McArthur was a sexist douchebag who spent every training session we had trying to sleep with me. I promise you, I learned nothing from him." I grab her stick in my hand and yank her towards me so we're almost nose to nose, I poke her nose and shove her away. "Jeffery, however, was rather nice to look at, don't you think?" 

"Eh, he was alright but I always fancied Lacey more." I laugh at that, twirling under her stick with less than a centimetre of space. 

"She was beautiful, I got to her first though." I wink and she lashes out at me with a disgruntled growl. "Besides you were all caught up on what was his name? Brendon? Brandon?"

"His name was Billy." 

"Ha! No wonder you broke it off with him." I duck and roll as the drives down to me viciously, almost snapping her stick on the edge of the ring. "Was that a sore spot? He came for dinner once I think, he was vegan." I shiver falsely and Riley rolls her eyes.

"That was Jamie." 

"Hated him." 

"Yeah well that makes both of us." I grab her stick again, twirling her away from me and snatching the stick. 

"Do you want this back or did I win?" I grin at her while she pouts grumpily. "You would've hated me more if I let you win." I squeeze her cheeks playfully and she smacks my hands away still grumbling about how she thought she had me this time. I put the sticks back and slide my arms back into my jacket, straightening the lapels soon after. 

I step out of the ring and am confronted with two groups of people. One group are happy as Larry, collecting money from the bowl while the others are looking just as angry as Riley. I suppose the ones on the right bet on me while the ones on the left voted for Riley. 

That's unfortunate. 

The thing that makes my heart sing though is that Mac is on the right.