It is funny how I no longer have a problem with Eric touching or seeing my naked skin and yet right now, I feel completely exposed und uncomfortable as I let Will remove the stitches from the finally healed wound on my stomach.

I keep staring at the ceiling while he is working and think back to the fight between Eric and me a couple of days ago.

He was not in the office the day after and had not been home for the entire weekend, meaning we haven't seen each other ever since.

At first, I was worried that something might have happened to him. But then, he was probably simply staying with one of his conquests. At least that is what I thought until Sunday, when my friends came over and Zeke casually mentioned that Eric had been busy drinking himself into a stupor down at the bar for the previous two nights.

"Alright, it's done," Will brings me back to the present, taking off his medical gloves. "I guess Eric will be glad to hear you're finally allowed to train again."

Great. Because that is what I need right now, being pinned to the ground by the idiot himself.

"So I'm completely healed?"

"Yes," Will smiles. "Just try to not get hit in the stomach right away, just to be safe."

"I'll do my best," I return his smile, pulling down my shirt, and hop off the examination couch. "Say hi to Chris for me, will you? I'm afraid I can't make it to lunch, I'll be stuck in my office all day."

Will grimaces. "Sitting in an office all day long really wouldn't be my thing. I'll tell her – good luck or steady nerves or whatever you need."

"Thanks," I sigh before making my way toward my office to report back to Eric that he is now allowed to torture me on the mat again.

Maybe I am lucky enough and Eric is so hung over that he has to take another day off.

But of course I am not, as I have to find out as soon as I step out of the elevator and hear him bellowing angrily into his phone.

I anxiously wait for him to finish the call, telling myself to just act normal, before approaching his open door and knocking against it.

"What?" He barks without even glancing up from his paperwork.

I clear my throat and start playing with the hem of my sleeve. "Will just gave me the green light to continue with physical training."

His head snaps up so fast I swear I can actually hear his neck cracking.

"About time," he grumbles. "You're far enough behind as it is. We'll start tonight, seven o'clock sharp."

"Sure, I mean it's not like my work day ends at five, but hey," I mumble, turning away from him.

"What was that?" He snaps.

I smile sweetly over my shoulder at him. "I said I can't wait."

Eric snorts and shakes his head.

I return to my office, shut the door and then let myself fall back against it.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.

Though our inevitable encounter was not as awkward as I thought it would be, it was still uncomfortable enough for me to really dread tonight.

The day goes by far too quickly for my taste.

One moment, I am brooding over the files on my desk while my friends are having lunch together, the next I am walking into the training area. Due to my work load I have not yet had the time to be nervous or overthink what training again with Eric might be like, but now that I am sitting on the edge of the boxing ring, my feet dangling in the air, I can feel my heart pounding more and more wildly with every passing second.

When the door to the training grounds finally opens, my palms and lower back are already sweaty.

I hop down from the edge of the ring and turn toward the door while pulling my hair up in a ponytail – and immediately freeze.

Eric is not alone.

Smirking at me from ear to ear with a malicious glint in his eyes, is Peter.

"Stiff," he greets, his tone way too happy for my liking. He almost sounds excited.

"What's he doing here?" I ask Eric, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

He raises his pierced eyebrow. "He's here to train with you. Is that a problem?"

I try really hard not to swallow or show any sign of how much of a problem this indeed is for me.

"Not at all," I answer, raising an eyebrow in return. "Why would it be?"

So this is how Eric plans to avoid having any type of bodily contact with me. It is what I wanted, not to have to be pinned by him, is it not?

How does that saying go – be careful what you wish for? Well, I certainly got my wish fulfilled in the worst way possible. The only person probably worse than Peter is Sean.

"Alright," Eric's voice rips me from my thoughts. "In the ring then."

I simply turn back around again and climb up into the ring. Peter follows, still grinning like someone has told him he could open up his Christmas gifts early.

"How long do we fight for?" I ask while stretching my arms.

"Till one of you can't continue," is Eric's answer, his face still so unusually expressionless.

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

"Heard the infirmary is your second home now, Stiff," Peter smirks.

"So I've got two homes and you have none since you have been stationed at an outpost for how long now?"

The smirk vanishes and Peter gets into fighting stance. I do the same.

My gaze immediately drops down to his feet, remembering Four's words from Initiation.

"He steps before he punches."

Let's just hope he still keeps doing that.

Barely a second later Peter's right leg moves forward, followed by a punch to my face that I just barely avoid by ducking out of the way. A second punch follows almost immediately, but this time I am effectively blocking his attempt with a raised arm.

When Peter retracts his arm I follow up and feint a punch to his face, at the same time bringing up my foot and kicking him in the kneecap.

He groans, and then starts to rush at me, throwing himself at me and yanking me down to the ground.

He ends up on top of me, his hands around my throat, both thumbs pressing hard onto my windpipe.

Now this I can work with. I have practiced with Eric for months how to get out of this hold.

When I break free and get back on my feet – Peter lying on the ground, his hands over his eyes which I have just tried to push further into his stupid head – Eric gives me the tiniest nod of appreciation.

Really, this is all I get? After being out of physical training for weeks and having lost to Peter during the entirety of Initiation all I get now for beating him is a freaking nod?

A second later, I know why. Because I have not beaten Peter at all – in fact, due to my wanting to get sufficient approval I have made the worst mistake possible. I have turned my back on my enemy.

And now I am paying for it.

Peter grabs my hair from behind and yanks me backward. I scream in pain at the feeling of my scalp burning like it has been set on fire.

Then, he slams me back against the metal railing of the boxing ring. Again, I cry out. Next is a punch to my stomach and this time, I can't scream, I can barely breathe and feel like I might vomit. I want to double over, however, Peter's hand closes around my throat again and he keeps me pressed back against the railing, a diabolical glint in his eyes that immediately catapults me back to that moment so many months ago when he was holding me up against the railing of the chasm, when he and Drew and Al tried to kill me.

And he is there with me because he smirks and raises his other hand to my chest and actually gropes my breast.

"Well look at that," he smirks. "You've grown some tits since the last time!"

I do not get the chance to react.

Whereas Eric has given him free reign during Initiation, it seems that touching me, moreover right in front of him, is Peter's death sentence.

Eric is up and in the ring faster than I can blink, grabbing Peter around the neck and literally throwing him away from me and down onto the ground.

Then, he pounces on Peter and punches him straight in the face multiple times. I can hear the bones in nose breaking.

"Eric!" I wheeze out, slinging one arm around my stomach. "Stop it!"

Eric lets up and steps back; Peter is curled up in a fetus position, whimpering, his face a bloody mess.

Ignoring him, Eric turns around to face me.

"What did he mean, since the last time?" He wants to know, his jaw clenched and eyes sparkling with anger. It is the Eric I have missed the last couple of days, the Eric that protects me at all costs. My Eric.

"I don't wanna talk about it," I reply, still fighting for every single breath.

"But I do," Eric barks. "And as your superior, I demand an answer."

I swallow. "He tried to kill me during Initiation. He, Drew and Al attacked me and tried to throw me into the chasm. During that, Peter … touched me."

Eric's blood smeared hands ball into fists again. "Why wasn't this brought to leadership's attention?"

"Because I asked Four not to report it."

He gapes at me like I have lost my mind and then snorts. "Of course. Now it all makes sense. Four rushing in as the knight in shining armor, saving the damsel in distress, getting the girl."

This time, I do roll my eyes at him.

"Alright, give me a second, I'm just gonna kill that pathetic motherfucker here" – he kicks Peter in the ribs – "and then you and I are gonna sit down and have a talk with Four. This is ridiculous, he should've been kicked out –"

"No," I interrupt him angrily. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to pretend to care about what happens to me or what might have happened to me, not after what you did to me. Not after how you hurt me."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eric explodes. "I told you, I wouldn't let anyone –"

"Can you please just help me out of the ring so I can go to the infirmary?" I interrupt him again with a sigh.

"Infirmary?" His mood immediately switches to concern und he scans me from head to toe. "Why, what's wrong? Is it your stomach? I thought Will said you were fine?"

"He also said to avoid getting kicked in the stomach," I answer sheepishly. "So I'd rather have him take a look."

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me that?" Eric barks, his face paling.

Before I have the chance to reply, he takes a hold of me and picks me up bridal style.

"I should've been told, for fuck's sake!" He barks while carrying me out of the ring.

He continues his rambling and cursing all the way to the infirmary.

"What happened this time?" Will sighs the moment he sees us, motioning for Eric to put me down on one of the empty examination couches.

"She got kicked in the stomach."

I cannot remember ever seeing Will this angry.

"Alright, I've had enough of you. I have kept my mouth shut because you're my leader but at this rate, I just have to know: what the actual fuck is wrong with you, Eric?" – his voice keeps getting louder and louder, attracting the attention of the night nurses – "I mean, she's a living and breathing human being, not a punching bag! How often do you expect me to patch her up again? I thought you were supposed to guide her and not almost kill her every time she's with you?"

Eric just blinks at him, actually speechless, before spinning on his heel and marching out of the infirmary.

Suddenly Will's face is turning pale and he looks at me like he has seen a ghost.

"Oh my god," he squeaks, almost panicking. "What have I done? He's gonna kill me for disrespecting him like that. Oh god, what do I tell Chris? That there's no future for us because I-"

"Will," I interrupt him, laughing slightly. "Calm down, he's not gonna kill you."

"I don't know, Tris-"

"But I do," I say with determination. "Now please have a look at my stomach so that I can finally go to bed?"

"Yeah, sure, of course," he shakes his head and then gets to work.

"Stiff."

I groan and stop walking before slowly turning around. Is it really too much to ask for to just walk down a corridor without him finding me?

"What is it, Eric?" I sigh, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "What's so important that it can't wait till after my lunch break?"

"Max wants to talk to us, right away," he answers, crossing his own arms now, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Where were you going, anyway? Cafeteria's the other way."

"Housing," I answer, though it is none of his business, because I actually want him to ask why. I want to see his face when he finds out.

His brows wrinkle in confusion. "Housing? What the hell would you need from them?"

"I need them to change my locks," I reply smugly, fighting really hard to keep my face neutral and to not smirk at him.

"Oh come on, don't be ridiculous," Eric groans, dropping his arms to his sides. "Are you really still angry with me?"

I walk toward him and then past him, my shoulder bumping into his – well, into his upper arm since I am significantly smaller than him. "Didn't you say Max needed us right away?"

I hear him cursing unintelligibly but a second later he is falling into step next to me. We do not speak another word until we arrive at Max's office.

"You wanted to see us?" I say by way of greeting and Max looks up from his desk, motioning for the two of us to sit down on the visitor's chairs.

"I've decided it's time to give Tris more responsibility and to prove herself as a future leader," he explains once we have taken our seats. "So, Tris, I want you to take charge of the raid of the subway station just outside of Amity. Eric will come with you as your trainer, of course. But it's up to you to assemble a team, think of a strategy … to organize everything, practically. You'll be leaving tonight just after dark."

"Alright, thank you, Sir," I say, nodding my head in appreciation. I am glad to get the chance to proof myself and consolidate my position.

"Regarding your team, who are you thinking of?" Max wants to know then, while Eric is still eerily quiet. His face does not betray any emotion and for once, I actually can't read him.

"Uriah," I reply immediately before naming a couple of other people. "… and Four."

"Four?!" Eric repeats, looking rather startled, like he is sure he has misheard.

"Yes, Four," I look straight into his eyes, blinking my lashes innocently, suppressing a smirk.

Didn't see that one coming, did you, Coulter?

We are barely out of Max's office when he grabs my upper arm and drags me into his own office. The moment the door shuts behind us, he pushes me up against the door, his face barely an inch away from mine, though there is a small gap between our bodies.

A gap I yearn to close.

"What the fuck, Stiff?" He demands, his eyes sparkling with anger, as he brings his hands up flat against the door to both sides of my head, caging me in. "Four? Is this your type of revenge for Tatja? Or is this because of Hayes? Because I swear to you, had I known that he fucking touched you, I never would've let him near you."

I swallow, trying to ignore the feeling of his breath ghosting across my face and the warmth radiating from his body. The way my heart is beating wildly against my chest. "Is he still alive?"

"Yes," Eric sighs. "I figured you probably wouldn't appreciate me killing him."

"You didn't make him factionless, did you?" I ask, biting my lips nervously, my gaze traveling from his eyes to his lips, back to his eyes and then to that damn piercing in his eyebrow. I do not know where to look.

"No," is his reply and it takes me a moment to remember my question. I cannot think straight with him being so close to me, his scent invading my nostrils. "Why d'you care?"

I close my eyes for a second, clearing my head.

"Because you've once told me that he's ruthless. And I'd rather have him fighting with us than joining Factionless and fighting against us."

He snorts. "That's exactly why I didn't kick him out. However, I told him that should he ever touch you again, I will rip him apart limb by limb until he begs me to kill him. And when he apologized and said he didn't know you were my plaything now, I might've broken one of his fingers. Or three."

"Why do you keep doing that?" I cannot help but ask, my voice breaking slightly. "Why do you keep protecting me?"

"You know why," he snaps, avoiding my gaze now.

"No, Eric, I don't," I huff. "Because we never talk about what's between us. Which led to the whole situation with Tatja."

"Hey, I apologized for that!" He interjects.

"You didn't!", I yell, shaking my head in disbelief. "You said you didn't want me to find out. How would you feel if you had found me having sex with someone else?"

Something flashes behind is eyes, his jaw clenching. Suddenly his body snaps forward, pressing against mine, pushing me further into the door.

"Don't you dare," he growls angrily. "I will murder anyone who even dares to look at you that way."

"Good to know you don't have any double standards," I mutter, trying to ignore what is undoubtedly his hard cock.

"I mean it," he continues, his eyes burning into mine, setting my soul on fire. "I couldn't stand it."

"Yeah, sure," I snort.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Stiff," he groans, closing his eyes as if he is in pain. "You know how I feel about you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you – in fact, I already have."

My gaze hardens. "I don't want you to die for me or to kill for me. You know what I do want you to do?"

He raises his pierced eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

"To fucking apologize and just say that you lo-like me," I snap, bringing my hands up and pushing him away from me with all my might.

My heart racing, I take one last glance at his bewildered expression, before yanking the door open and fleeing.