"Why won’t you fucking talk to ?"
Zane’s voice isn’t loud, If anything, that makes it worse.
The training room is suddenly very quiet except for the sound of both of us breathing. The air slls faintly of sweat and rubber mats and the tallic tang of the weights stacked along the wall.
I stare at him and for a second, I don’t even know where to start.
"You’re joking, right?" I say finally.
He doesn’t move.
"Does it look like I’m joking?"
My chest rises and falls as I try to steady my breathing. My hands are still half curled from the fight, muscles tight with leftover adrenaline.
"You want to know why I’m not talking to you?"
"Yes."
Sothing inside snaps
"Because you don’t fuckin listen," I shoot back
Zane’s jaw tightens.
"Oh I listen."
"No, you don’t." I shake my head. "You bark orders, you insult and you punish like I’m so kind of disobedient pet, and then when I get angry suddenly you want a calm little conversation like nothing happened."
His eyes flash.
"That’s not what I....."
"And don’t even start pretending that tying up and using sex as a punishnt was normal behavior," I cut in.
The words hang there between us heavily, Zane’s nostrils flare slightly.
"That wasn’t...."
"It was fucking humiliating," I say, quieter now but sharper. "And you never even apologized."
He runs a hand through his hair roughly.
"I bought you the piano."
I laugh and it’s not a nice sound.
"Oh wow. A freakin piano, you think that fixes everything?"
"That wasn’t what I ant."
"Then what did you an?" I challenge.
For a mont he doesn’t answer. Hus chest rises slowly as he exhales through his nose, like he’s trying to rein himself in.
Then he says sothing I’m not expecting.
"I hate being ignored."
The words sound softer than the rest of the conversation.
I blink.
"What?"
His eyes et mine and There’s still anger there, but sothing else too.
"Do you know the last ti soone ignored like this?"
I cross my arms, still defensive.
"No."
"My dead friend."
That catches off guard.
Zane doesn’t look away as he continues.
"The night she died."
The room feels suddenly smaller. His voice isn’t loud.
"She stopped answering my calls," he says.
I swallow.
"I kept calling. Again and again."
He lets out a quiet breath.
"I thought she was just angry with ."
The muscles in his jaw flex.
"So I stopped calling."
Silence stretches between us.
"And the next ti I heard about her..." he says quietly, "...she was already dead."
Sothing twists painfully in my chest as Zane looks away for a mont like he hates the fact that he even said that out loud.
"That’s why," he mutters. "I hate being ignored."
I don’t know what to say to that.,.... A part of wants to soften.
But another part.....the part that’s still angry and hurt....:refuses to give in that easily.
"You being traumatized doesn’t an you get to treat like shit," I say finally.
His gaze snaps back to .
"I didn’t say it did."
"Well that’s what you’re doing."
Zane takes a step closer.
"Then talk to ."
I shake my head imdiately.
"No."
"Elaine..."
The training room door suddenly opens and Aaron steps in. He stops halfway inside when he notices the tension between us. His eyes move between my flushed face and Zane’s rigid posture
"Sorry to interrupt," he says carefully.
Zane turns toward him slowly.
"What."
Aaron hesitates.
"Thomas just called, there’s sothing that needs your attention. Urgently."
Zane doesn’t move for a mont, his eyes flick back to , then back to Aaron.
"What is it?"
"They didn’t say over the phone," Aaron replies. "Just that it can’t wait."
A muscle jumps in Zane’s jaw, clearly this is the worst possible mont for him to be dragged away.
He looks at again, the anger hasn’t left his face neither has the frustration.
Finally he exhales sharply and turns to Aaron.
"Fine."
He wipes his hands on a nearby towel before grabbing his shirt from the bench and as he pulls it over his head, he speaks again.
"You."
Aaron straightens slightly.
"Yes, sir."
"Continue training with her."
Aaron glances at briefly then nods.
"Of course."
Zane turns back to one last ti.
"We’re not finished."
His voice is quieter now, the the weight behind the words is unmistakable.
"We’ll continue this conversation later."
I cross my arms.
"No."
He pauses.
"What?"
"I’m not continuing anything, we are done here " I say.
Zane stares at like he didn’t expect that answer.
"You don’t get to schedule conversations like etings," I add.
His eyes darken slightly.
"This isn’t optional."
"It is for ."
Aaron shifts awkwardly beside us like he’s suddenly realized he’s standing in the middle of sothing way above his pay grade.
Zane studies my face for a long mont, then he huffs out a short breath.
"Fine."
But the way he says it makes it clear it’s anything but fine.
He walks toward the door, just before stepping out, he glances back.
"You’re still training," he tells .
Then he looks at Aaron.
"Don’t go easy on her."
Aaron’s mouth twitches faintly.
"Yes, sir
Zane disappears out the door and the silence he leaves behind feels... strange.
Aaron rubs the back of his neck, looking awkward.
"Well," he says.
I drop down onto the edge of the mat, still trying to process the conversation
"That was... sothing."
Aaron walks toward the mat slowly.
"Do you want the honest answer?"
I sigh.
"Probably not."
He nods.
"Fair."
For a mont neither of us says anything, then Aaron claps his hands once.
"Alright."
I look up.
"What?"
He gestures toward the center of the mat.
"Your training."
I groan quietly.
"You’re kidding."
Aaron shrugs.
"You heard the boss."
I drag myself to my feet reluctantly.
"Great, just great."
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