Agent Rogue: Renegade

Chapter 22

I stopped at the apartment to change before heading to the agency, tearing my eyes away from anything that reminded me of Derek; the pile of his clothes, the vinyl's, the fridge. As I left, I got a text from Scotty.

Where are you?

I typed a reply:

Training.

And then my phone went into my jacket, put on silent mode to block out any distractions.

Davis was training in the basement when I arrived, dressed in dark gym clothes and draped in sweat as he trained with a punching bag, every hit fuelled with intense anger. Two uppercuts and a violent kick later, the bag almost flew across the room.

His jaw was tensed, chest rising an falling violently until he saw me at the door, unzipping my jacket. The anger I once saw faded into nothing.

"I thought you'd be at the hospital."

"I was," I replied.

"How's Barnes is he--?"

"Alive. Just."

He let out a sigh and glanced at the ground, massaging his knuckles. "I suppose we should be grateful for that, then."

I nodded. "How many agents did we lose?"

Davis swallowed. "Seven."

No one else was so honest with me. Collins would have called him insensitive but I saw him as truthful -- even if was harsh. "How long have you been here?"

He checked the time on the clock: 5 in the morning. "About an hour. I couldn't sleep."

I looked to the punching bag that laid on the ground. The stitching from the top had split, spilling sand onto the mat and the hook it once hung from swung back and forth. "You're strong."

He picked up the bag and dragged it back to the hook. "Not strong enough. Maybe those agents would have stood a chance if I was."

"You're a good fighter, Davis. That's why I want to train with you."

He frowned. "You're one of the most highly commended agents. You don't need training, you're a jack of all trades."

"And a master of none," I retorted. "I want to improve."

He looked me up and down for a moment. "I don't know. Arthur said you'd be resting for a while. I don't think he'd like this."

I scrunched up my jacket and tossed it towards the back of the room. "Don't be easy on me."

He smiled into the leather of the bag and chewed on his lip. For a moment I thought he would refuse but he let go. "Alright."

I stepped to the side and he mimicked it. As he stepped, I watched his footwork: slightly muddled -- a potential weakness. We both raised our fists together, mirroring each other by shielding our faces. I had never thought with Davis before, so the result would be a surprise, but rumours around the office painted him to be the best fighter in the agency... or one of them, at least. 

He stepped and threw a punch. I ducked. He tried again and I stepped back, barely missing as his knuckles grazed my shirt. 

"Close one, Knight." Davis grinned.