Happy Wednesday, everyone, and welcome to new readers. It completely blows me away that this story is still drawing readers in, it's so awesome.
I loved all the reviews from the last chapter, you guys have some solid, intriguing thoughts on the plot this story. Its makes me so happy to read them, though I have to admit I've struggled over this last week as my account wasn't letting me read your reviews :( but that's all changed now and I finally got around to seeing them yesterday.
As always, thanks to those guests who leave a review, its so appreciated, and thanks for the alerts, follows, and favorites.
So on to Chapter Nine...Let the training begin...
Chapter Nine
The next morning found Four sitting in the large dining room, eating a hearty breakfast, and feeling quite apprehensive regarding his upcoming morning. He had an innate feeling this training would be completely different from his experience at the police academy.
He had no idea where Tris was. She had been gone when he had woken that morning, so after finding a pair of sweats and a t-shirt laid out for him, he showered alone in her gigantic shower. He vaguely wondered what would become of his apartment and his job, though he recalled Mason saying in their initial meeting he may be able to keep his job. Would that be possible? Could he continue working as a detective for the CPD, then spend his nights as a glorified vigilante for the Dauntless? Could he see himself as some kind of urban superhero?
He watched as the workers of Dauntless filtered in and out of the dining room as he started on his meal. The word must have spread throughout the large house that he was a new member because no one looked at him in surprise. It was as if he was expected to be there.
He was halfway through his breakfast when Caleb sauntered into the room. Four watched as Caleb quickly scanned the hall and, spotting him, walked over to the table where he was seated.
"Are you ready?" Caleb asked, his voice gentle.
Four looked up at him incredulous. "I'm eating," he stated, pointing to his meal with his knife.
Caleb just shook his head and indicated to a member of the kitchen staff who was standing by the internal door to the kitchen. The man hurried forward and quickly swiped Four's plate away from him.
"Looks like you're done," Caleb smirked.
Four watched as his breakfast disappeared into the kitchen. Putting his cutlery down, he slowly raised his coffee cup to his lips, purposely taking his time. His eyes lifted to Caleb as he sipped the brew leisurely, savoring every drop as Caleb's look got more and more annoyed.
Placing his cup back down, he stood. "Okay, I'm ready."
Caleb promptly turned on his heel and walked out without ensuring Four was following him.
After a few twist and turns along the hallways of the house, and down a set of plain teak wood stairs, Caleb led Four into a room that could only be described as a workout heaven. It was about the size of a high school gym with charcoal gray brick walls with a pair of double doors at the end of the hall.
The room held a vast array of exercise machines, several rows of weights, and a large, central area covered in mats. The room was surprisingly devoid of people, apart from four figures by the mats, and Caleb was heading in their direction.
As Four drew nearer to the designated area, he recognized Zeke from yesterday. There was another man, older with slightly graying hair, another who looked like a taller version of Zeke, and Tris, who was sitting, straddling a weight bench. He guessed that explained where she had disappeared to. He raised his eyebrow at her. She just smiled sweetly.
The older man met him in the middle of the mats. He was a mass of muscle and pure power radiated from him.
"Good morning, Four. My name is Max. I'll be overseeing your training."
Four accepted his handshake and then turned to the three men.
"So, are you guys gonna be training me?" he asked them.
"Yes," Max answered for them.
"I'm Uriah," Uriah greeted Four, stepping forward to shake his hand. "I'm Zeke's younger brother but I think we can all agree I'm the better looking Pedrad."
"Four," Four returned with a tight smile. "Why is she here?" he asked, tipping his head in Tris's direction.
"For your training," Max replied.
"What! You want me to train with her?" Tris had explained she was involved with training new recruits, he just never expected her to be actively involved in his training.
"She will be part of your training," Caleb said with a sneer.
"Will you all please just stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Tris huffed.
Four looked suspiciously at her, ignoring her outburst. What possible reason was there for Tris to be involved in his training? Surely they didn't expect him to hit her?
"What part of the training?" he asked, swinging his head back to Caleb.
"That doesn't matter at the moment," he replied with a grin. "What matters is Zeke."
"Why?"
Four didn't get a chance to ask any further questions as Zeke's fist hit him square on his jaw. Immediately, the area felt like it was on fire, and he tasted the distinct metallic bitterness of blood in his mouth.
"Be prepared at all times, Four," Max told him as he heard Caleb and Uriah chuckle low.
"I wasn't ready," Four spat out, along with a mouthful of blood.
"I'm sure we could hold up a fight with our enemies until you're ready," Caleb quipped sarcastically.
Four brought his fists up as he mirrored Zeke's movements.
Soon, both men were consumed in their dance, punches being made as they circled each other in the workout area. Some of the punches hit their marks, others fell short.
Max stood back, observing the fighters carefully, waiting and watching for Four's weaknesses. He moved around the edge of the mat slowly, his eyes never leaving the two agents, until he was standing beside Tris, who was still seated upon the bench, her own eyes intent on the two fighting. Uriah stood to her other side, his stance wide, and his arms folded across his chest. He was also engrossed in watching the two spar, while Caleb just looked bored.
"He moves pretty quick," Max said to Tris.
Tris nodded distractedly as she watched Four and Zeke. Four was obviously a good fighter and was giving Zeke just as much as he received. He moved with a fluidity that showed this was nothing new to him, his eyes were intent, focused, as he watched Zeke moved around the mats. He was quick, his movements calculated and precise, his mind quickly evaluating every action his opponent made and assessing the best damage he could inflict on Zeke.
Four lost himself in the fight with Zeke, his mind focusing completely on moving around the mats as he parried back and forth with the man in front of him. Zeke was good, a well-trained fighter who knew the more tender places to hit a body, and Four appreciated that.
Their bodies were slick with sweat and beginning to bruise when Zeke finally fell to the mats, a second or two passing before he held his hands up in surrender. Four offered Zeke his hand and helped him to his feet.
"You okay?" Four asked.
"I'm good," Zeke mumbled, his other hand rubbing at his jawline. "That's quite a right hook you have."
Four smirked at him. "Yeah, I've been told."
Zeke just nodded as he moved over to the bench were Tris was sitting and collapsed on the floor beside it.
"He knows how to fight, that's for sure," he grumbled.
"I can see," Tris smiled down to him.
"My turn," Uriah sang out as he moved to the center mat. He was grinning widely, his enthusiasm for what was about to happen projecting to everyone.
Caleb looked down to Zeke. "Your brother is a little manic at times."
"At times?" Zeke shot back disbelieving. "He's nuts all the time."
"That's why we're friends," Caleb agreed. "We both have insane siblings."
"Hey," Tris interrupted. "I'm right here, ya know."
"And we still love ya," Zeke grinned to her.
Tris huffed at the two of them and turned her attention back to Four and Uriah.
Uriah was like her: Divergent. So this fight was, for the time being, a little unfairly matched. Uriah had been training with his abilities for years and while the consensus was Four, too, was Divergent, he didn't have the slightest clue how to use that to his advantage.
She winced, echoing Four's grimace, as Uriah used a little extra force in a right hook to his jaw. Four retaliated with a left jab followed by a right cross, and then a left hook.
"Too quick," Tris said to no-one in particular, her head tipping slightly to the side, and then she winced again when Uriah's right fist connected with Four's body just above his left kidney. "He needs to slow down. To move with the air, not against it."
"He doesn't understand that, Tris," Zeke said, lifting his body from the floor and bending his knees up to lean his elbows on them. "You might need to show him how," he grinned to her.
Tris returned his smile and wiggled her shoulders up and down, as if excited to get started.
All too soon, Four had clearly lost the fight, his face speckled in black-and-blue bruises and blood running from his nose, while Uriah was relatively unmarked. Four didn't know what was worse, losing a fight, or losing to someone obviously younger than him.
"Take five minutes," Max called out.
Four looked up and then collapsed onto the mat, lying flat on his back, his arms sprawled above his head, his legs apart.
He felt, rather than saw, Tris as she walked over to him and squatted down beside him. "How are you holding up?"
"I don't know," he breathed out. "You're the one watching. What do you think?"
"I can't tell you that," she returned with a secretive smile. "That would be cheating."
"And having him use his freaky superpowers against me, that's not cheating?" Four huffed.
"They're not powers, Four, they're abilities. You can use it, too. You've just got to find your trigger," Tris explained.
Four sat up a little, propping himself back on his elbows. Tris moved forward and wiped the blood away from his face. "You look hot when you fight," she grinned with a sexy half smile.
"Tris," Four gave a slight snort of laughter. "This is not the time for you to get all horny on me."
Tris looked innocently at him, unaware that she was actually pouting.
"And don't pull that pout out, either."
"You're no fun when you're cranky," she muttered as she stood and walked away from him.
…
Two hours later, and Four was struggling to catch his breath, while Uriah had hardly broken a sweat.
Uriah sauntered over to Tris and she handed him a bottle of water from the cooler.
"He packs a pretty hard punch," he said, absentmindedly rubbing his ribs.
Tris watched as Four again rested on the mats. His lip was split in three different places, there was a cut above his right eye, red blotches all across his face, and Tris was sure that if she lifted his t-shirt, his body would resemble a black and blue zebra.
She stood, reached for another bottle, and walked back over to him.
"Am I dead yet?" she heard him croak as she drew nearer.
"Not yet," she quipped as she again dropped next to him, this time sitting completely on the mats.
"Sit up, Four," she instructed, and she tried to help him into a sitting position.
When he was suitably sitting by himself, she held the bottle of water out for him. His eyes flicked over to her, pleadingly, and she rolled her own. She uncapped the bottle of water and held it out to his lips.
Once he had swallowed a little of the water, he licked his lips, coating them with the cooling liquid. "Even my eyeballs hurt," he mumbled.
Tris tenderly ran her fingers over his sore, swollen face. "My poor man," she cooed.
"Am I done yet?" he asked hopefully.
"You haven't even started," she replied with a laugh.
"Oh, shit," he said as he relaxed back against the mats again. "I don't think my body will hold out."
"Trust me, it will hold out. You will just become very familiar with the units."
"This isn't training, Tris. This is Uriah wiping the floor with my ass. How is he doing that?"
"It's training Four. It's what we all go through," she said, not answering his question.
"Someone did this to you?" he asked her, shocked.
"Every day for two weeks," she replied with a shrug. "I was a little stubborn!"
"Was it a woman, at least?" he asked, a little distressed that someone had beat the crap out the slight girl before him for two solid weeks.
"No," Tris returned simply, her eyes holding his.
Four growled at her answer. "Does he still work here?"
"Yes, and don't go all caveman on me, Four. I got my revenge, don't you worry."
"Good," he mumbled, and they both turned their heads when they detected movement.
"Okay, pretty boy, let's go again," Uriah sneered as he moved back into the middle of the mats. "Are you joining in, T?" he asked his friend as he jumped around Four, adrenaline coursing through his body.
"Not this time," Tris said as she stood then reached down to help Four up.
Four gratefully took her offered hand and let her pull him to his feet. He stood a little shakily at first then found his balance and slowly brought his fists up, eyeing Uriah and trying to figure which side his opponent would come at first.
As much as he had been anticipating the hit, it was still a shock when it came.
Tris walked back to the bench, bottle of water in her hand. "I don't think he's gonna be able to take much more today," she told Max.
"So I won't be able to show off my skills?" Caleb asked dejectedly.
Tris shook her head. "Not today, Caleb. Sorry."
"He's done a lot better than I thought he would," Max acknowledged.
"Yeah, almost three hours and he's still standing," Zeke agreed.
"He's a good fighter, he just needs to find that trigger to access his abilities," Caleb commented. "He did pretty well against Zeke.
"He would probably hold his own against you as well, Caleb," Tris grinned, knowing she was hitting at a raw nerve. Caleb's fighting abilities were sparse to begin, he wasn't a natural fighter. He held his own in combat, even managed to do his fair share of damage to his opponent, but he preferred to fight with weapons and not his fists.
They watched in silence again as Uriah executed a roundhouse kick that caught Four across his ribs, and he hissed in pain.
"Well, if you won't be needing me, I have a report to file," Zeke said, and he turned to leave.
"Hey Zeke," Tris called out to him, stopping him. "Pull your head out of your ass. Tori won't wait around forever, you know."
Zeke looked at her quizzically and when Tris raised a knowing eyebrow at him in challenge, he nodded and left.
Half an hour later, Four was again laid out on the floor.
"Okay, I'm calling it for today," Tris said, looking at Max. "I think he's had enough."
"Tris, don't go all mushy on me just because you're sleeping with the guy," Max said.
"I'm not, Max," Tris returned indignantly. "It's his first day. Give him a break."
"And what do I say to the boss when he asks why he was done so early?"
"I know what I'd like to say to the boss," she mumbled, still bristling from the fact Mason had kept vital information from her. She looked back at Max to see his expectant look. Had he really expected her to answer his question?
She shrugged at him. "Tell him I pulled rank!"
"Aren't I higher in rank than you?"
Tris smirked at him. "Only in age, old man."
"Okay, Uriah," Tris called out before Max could say anymore. "That's it for today."
Uriah turned to her, his face dripping with sweat and a look of disappointment, but he nodded once. He looked back down at Four where he laid sprawled on the mat. "You fight good, cop," he grinned. "Once you find your strength, maybe you'll beat me."
With that, he walked away, trying hard to hide a limp that indicated he was hurt more than he let on.
Tris watched him leave, shaking his head at him as she walked over to the wall-mounted phone to make the call to transfer Four over to the medics.
…
Four was sitting on the edge of the unit, a fluffy, white robe covering him, when Tris strolled into the room. She was dressed in a dark tailored pant suit, the jacket held together with one button and he had a feeling there was very little clothing under it. She looked incredible.
"That's not right, Blondie," he called to her as she sauntered closer, her heels playing out an even staccato on the marble flooring.
"What?" she asked, cocking her head to the side slightly, quizzically.
"You covering those legs. I'm sure it's a crime. I may have to arrest you," he smirked at her as best he could with his swollen, broken lip.
"That's not the first time you've threatened to arrest me," Tris laughed.
"Hey, got to get you in cuffs somehow."
"I'm sure there are better ways," she teased, knowing full well he had no chance in hell achieving that.
"You running out on me?"
"I've got to go in to the office," she explained. "So when you're done, why don't you check the place out? There are basketball courts out back, a pool in the basement near the gym. And a games room I'm told is pretty amazing. Caleb will be around all day."
"I don't think your brother likes me very much!" he grumbled.
"Well, I'm sure Tess is around here somewhere," she retorted.
"That's okay, Tris. I think I'll be safer with Caleb."
"I think you're right. I'll see ya later, okay?"
"Don't work too hard."
"'Work too hard,' I don't think that phrase equates to me," she replied with a smirk, then she leaned over and kissed him quickly. Then she was gone.
…
The next day Four was in exactly the same position with Uriah using him as a human punch bag, though this time Four seemed to have learned, and he anticipated the other man's moves a lot easier and actually managed to land a few good hits himself.
"Okay, stop," Max called, and the two men stopped mid punch and turned to him. "Zeke. Your turn."
Uriah sniggered at Four as he moved from the mats and Zeke took his position in front of the man he knew would become his partner.
Four eyed him cautiously. "Can you do the freaky Divergent thing?"
"No, I'm not Divergent," Zeke responded.
Four smiled at that, "Good."
His grin soon vanished as Zeke began to pummel him, but just like last time, Four managed to hold his own and get in some good hits.
Max put a stop to their sparring as he walked over to them.
"You can't think of a person's ability when you're in a fight," he told Four. "Just because Zeke can't manipulate the air doesn't make him any less of an opponent. Much like just because Tris is a girl doesn't mean she can't kill a man with her bare hands."
Four let these words register as he looked over to the small, delicate girl sitting on a workout bench. He had not doubt that she could do exactly what Max had implied, but it was still an incredible thing to him.
Max watched as Four returned to dueling Zeke, then without turning his head said, "Tris."
Tris eagerly jumped up from her seat and gleefully walked over to them.
"Don't hurt him too much, Bea," Caleb jeered at her. "I'm sure you'll want him to perform later."
Tris stood in front of the guy who was fast becoming someone she could not imagine living without, and her mind struggled against her heart. It was impossible to feel this strongly for someone she hardly knew. She angrily pushed her thoughts away. This was not the time for personal reflection.
"You ready?" she asked him with a sly smile, her body swaying slightly with anticipation.
"I won't hit you, Tris," Four said simply.
"You're gonna have to because I'm gonna hit you, Four." She turned quickly on the spot, striking him with a roundhouse kick to the waist.
Four recoiled from the hit, hissing, and moved away from her slightly.
"Come on, Four, what are you gonna do if your target is a woman?" she taunted. "You can't just pick and choose you know." And she moved and hit him again, a little higher this time, striking his ribs.
"Shit, Tris."
"Get angry if you have to, Four," she continued before she stopped her moving around him and stepped closer, their bodies an inch apart. "It's okay. I trust you." She paused for a second, almost as if in thought. "You won't really be able to hurt me, anyway."
And she lifted her right arm, and hit her elbow into the side his face.
Four lifted his hand to wipe away the blood that trickled from the corner of his mouth, still refusing to hit her.
"Just knock him out, Tris," Caleb called out from the side lines. "That will get him mad when he comes to."
Tris knew she had to get through to Four. He had to learn that in a fight, things may not always go the way he would like or expect.
"Sorry," Tris said softly. "Believe me, this hurts me just as much as you."
"What does?"
She gave him a sympathetic half smile then swiftly lifted her knee, and it connected hard with his groin.
As Four doubled over with a loud groan and his eyes wide in shock, Tris sprang into action. She jumped into the air, her elbow bent as her left arm crossed her body, and she dropped her elbow onto the soft flesh between his neck and shoulder.
Four fell to his knees as pain shot through his body, and Tris went for the knock out. She twisted her upper body to the left, bending her right arm slightly, and her fist collided with the side of his head, crunching with the impact as she manipulated the air to harden the blow. With a groan, Four fell unconscious beneath her on the mat.
…
Four drifted to consciousness after some time. He could feel someone moving gently on his left side and turning his head, he saw Tris working gracefully through a series of exercises. He watched her silently until she turned and saw him.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, never stopping her movements.
"I guess," he replied, pulling his body up into a sitting position. His rubbed the side of his head where her fist had collided with it. "You pack quite a powerful punch."
Tris halted, mid-move, and looked at him. She straightened up and walked over to him. "I'm sorry, Four, but you need to learn. You can't feel pity for an opponent."
"I pity anyone who comes up against you," he mumbled as she came to a stop beside him.
She stepped one leg over him and squatted down, coming face to face with him. Shrugging one shoulder, she gave him half a smile. "I wouldn't pity anyone who faces me, Four. They obviously did something that deserves punishment."
Four lifted one hand and brushed a few wisps of her fine hair from her sweaty forehead. He nodded his head in the direction she had been. "What was that?"
Tris shifted so she was sitting in his lap. "It's yoga. It helps me focus. You should try it."
Four laughed. "I'm not doing any kind of pansy-ass movements."
"They're not pansy-ass, Four," she said with a huff. "It helps to center your body and spirit as well as to tone your body. You know, Adam Levine switched from weight-lifting to yoga, and his body is totally lust worthy."
"Who's Adam Levine?" Four grumbled.
Tris shook her head at him. "Have you not heard of Maroon 5?"
"Is that like a new cult or something?"
"No, Four. Maroon 5 is a band."
Four snorted. "Metallica. Now that's a band."
Tris shook her head. "Trust me, Four. Just give it a try." And she stood, holding her hand out to him. He clasped her hand and let her pull him from the floor.
As he scrambled to his feet, she added. "Ya know, there are also studies that say one of the benefits of yoga is better sex."
"Let's get to it then," he returned with a smile.
He stood beside her and mirrored her movements. He felt self-conscious and awkward and was glad there was no one else around to see him.
He followed her as she bent at the waist and placed her palms flat against the mat. Well, he tried to, grunting in the process. She stepped one leg back, her hands not moving and arched her back.
He tried to copy her movement, stretching his leg back and, again, another grunt escaped his lips. Shifting his eyes, he caught her smirking at him and he was resolved to continue.
When she moved her bent leg to join her outstretched one, he shadowed her movement. From that position he quickly executed a couple of press-up, just to impress.
She chose to ignore him as she lowered her body to the mat and arched back, pressing on her hands and straightening her elbows.
His backbone protested as he mimicked her.
She curled her toes under, pressed her heels down into the mat, and lifted her hips, straightening her arms, and this time, he groaned. Not from any pain but from the suggestive pose she was holding.
"Four," she hissed. "Concentrate."
"I'm trying to," he mumbled as he struggled into the same pose. His muscle's started to tremble as she held the position for longer than she really needed to. A second later, he crashed to the mat, and Tris giggled as she lowered herself next to him.
"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" she asked.
Four just shook his head.
"Come on, we'll try something else."
And she stood.
Four sighed as he clambered to his feet, and started to follow her again.
Her next choice of movements seemed a lot easier, and Four soon found himself lost in the controlled movements.
He watched as her hands moved slowly up and above her head, and his eyes were drawn to her long fingers, and his body shifted involuntarily until he held her flush against his front.
"Four, I don't think that's an actually position!"
"It's not?" he smirked as he brought his lips to her neck.
"No," she answered, but she tipped her head to give him better access.
"Maybe we need to re-write the instruction manual."
"Maybe," she agreed, reaching for his hands and wrapped his arms around her.
He lifted his hand higher to cover her breast. "I like this kind of training better."
"Willing to admit your technique needs to improve. I like that," she giggled.
"I need to improve?" he asked, incredulous.
Tris turned in his arms. "Absolutely not."
She reached up to kiss him, slowly, teasing him with her tongue.
He sank with her down to the floor, tugging her top off as they went.
"You do realize there are active cameras in here?" she breathed out as his lips encased her nipple.
"We'll get the tape later, Blondie."
…
