Chapter 16: Confusing Lessons

Lance Storm

I stared at Ember in disbelief. She asked me if I was a virgin with an innocent look on her face, as if she just learned the virgin word, which I knew wasn't true.

I had to act normal.

I cleared my throat. "Why are you asking that question? Do I look like one to you?" I asked, folding my arms against my chest. I leaned against the wall behind me, blankly looking at her.

"I mean, your plain room gives that kind of vibe," she replied.

I arched an eyebrow. "What kind of vibe?"

"A vibe which means you have no life. And no life means no sex, by the way," she said, as if she knew everything about life.

I shifted my gaze to the bookshelf on my right side, not giving her a direct reply. Even though she was not wrong about that, I wouldn't admit anything. Her useless logic was already giving me a headache.

"You know, I have a bed," I said, pointing my index finger to my bed.

I thought she would stop now, but she just shook her head like a kid.

"Yeah, but people nowadays do it on the stairs, on the sink, bathroom, on the couch, and even outside in public. But you don't seem like that kind of guy. So... are you a virgin?" she asked once again, pacing back and forth in my room like she was playing a little detective.

"You say so many unnecessary things. So the first rule in teaching you self-defense is, to stop talking about things that make no sense. Your attacker won't listen to you, and neither will I," I said, then walked out of my room.

I didn't turn to see if she was following me because her footsteps were too heavy and loud to let her presence be known.

"Your penthouse is so big and clean. Do you clean this whole house? Oh, right, you have maids. That painting looks so familiar. How much did you pay for that? If I was an artist, I would've sold all my paintings to you. Oh, I just remembered, your brother is an artist, right? So he must've painted this for you. That's really so sweet of him. What was his name again? Right, it was Elian. Or no, wait, it was Eltan. I get confused with both names. Oh, I never asked why your name is 'Lance' when your brothers have similar names. Maybe your parents liked this name a lot. I also like it," she continued talking as we were walking.

I rolled my eyes and didn't even bother to answer her because I didn't know whether she was asking me any questions or just narrating my life to myself for no absolute reason.

All of a sudden, I couldn't hear her footsteps anymore. I turned around to see that she stopped walking. She was standing in front of my portrait that I got painted in Italy, as if it was her first time seeing a portrait or me.

"If you're not going to move, I'm going to leave you here and turn off all the lights," I said with full authority, but she just pouted and snickered at me.

"Why are you threatening me?" she said, catching up.

We finally arrived at my gym room.

"Your house is so big and dark, but you're living here alone. Don't you ever feel lonely?" she asked while I was handing her boxing tape. She stared at me innocently before throwing the tape back at me.

Of course, she thought I was playing the catch game with her with the boxing tape. I had to help her wear that too now. Just great.

"I barely stay here," I said, walking closer to her. "So it doesn't matter if it's big and dark. Plus, my family arranges a get-together every so often and Eltan comes here whenever he fancies, so I'm almost never lonely," I answered casually while wrapping her hand, so she wouldn't get any hand injury after this session.

"Do you ever feel excluded, given that you are the only one away? If I had a family, I would live far away from them," she said.

I shook my head. "Not usually, no. But it's hard in case of family emergencies."

Speaking of family emergencies, a gush of guilt hit me. Just a few days ago, my mom fell down the stairs, but I couldn't go, because I didn't want Ember to be unsafe while I was out of town. Even though I knew that Elian and Eltan, even Alena, were there, I felt like a horrible son.

For what it's worth, at least I was protecting Ember.

I felt Ember rubbing her gloved hand on my upper arm. She didn't utter a word, but I understood that she was offering me comfort, and I didn't know why that actually made me feel better.

___

Ember Corbin

After Lance wrapped my hand tightly and securely, I couldn't even manage to close my fist. He finally stood up and stepped into the boxing ring. Again, I had no idea how he had a boxing ring inside a gym room. It was like a freaking another world in here, as if we were going to star in an outlandish martial arts movie.

This gentleman on the ring didn't even bother to help me and just stared at me bored while I was struggling to grab the rope to stand up.

"Are you settled?" he asked, and I nodded at him, trying to exercise my knuckles.

"Yes, all thanks to you," I responded sarcastically, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

"So I'm going to teach you the hammer strike first. For this, your hand should be closed so tightly," he said, showing his closed fist to me.

"Yeah, thanks to your wrap, that seems to be impossible," I muttered, trying to clench my fists, but got quiet immediately when I felt his glare at me.

"Then, when you strike, you're not going to use your entire fist but this one," he said, pointing to the downside of my fist.

I nodded and tried to close my hand as tight as I could.

"Then, place your hand behind your head then—" And a loud sound echoed all of a sudden.

I looked at him in shock when he hit the poor mannequin that was lying on the ground. No wonder why he kept these mannequins here. Those were to teach me self-defense, but I felt like those poor mannequins were suffering because of me.

"I am not doing that," I let out, scared. "I can't kill those poor mannequins."

"Do it exactly like how I did it," he said, ignoring my words while motioning at the mannequins.

I sighed and did precisely what he did, and another loud sound echoed. I smiled at him and jumped in joy when I punched it directly, but it wasn't completely like the way Lance hit.

"Good, but maybe you can slow your enemy if you use your car key. It'll be easier then," he advised, and I just stared at him with an innocent smile. "What?" he asked curiously.

"I don't have a car."

"God, give me patience," he mumbled.

"Whatever. Let's learn the next one, which is groin kick," I said while smiling widely at him, so excited to learn this move. Lance was looking at me in disbelief, without saying anything. "What? That's what google told me when I researched in the evening. Don't take it personally," I said while furrowing my eyebrow at him.

"No, I won't teach you this."

My smile faded, and I stared at him with a frown on my face.

"Why? Aren't you strong? What will happen with my one kick? I'm only a weak little fragile girl," I told him and gave him my most beautiful puppy eyes, but it didn't work.

"First of all, I will lose my reputation. Secondly, it will hurt. Thirdly, high chances of not producing offspring in the future."

My frown increased. I was so excited to hit him just once, and he threw that happiness of mine in the trash can.

"So heel palm strike then?" I asked him.

"Okay. This is perfect for you to stop you from talking so much."

I put my hand over my chest dramatically in offense at what he said.

"I don't talk much. You're just so silent, keeping that mysterious aura in you. You noticed that, right? When we were in kindergarten last week with the kids, you were the only one who was not talking while—" He shot me an exasperated look, and I gasped at the realization. "Oh, my God. I do talk a lot, don't I?"

He gave me a tight-lipped smile and motioned me to come toward him.

I sighed in defeat and let him teach me the heel palm strike that was perfect for stopping me from talking so much.

"It's easy; throw a straight punch—just do it," he said annoyingly when I stared at him in disbelief. Straight punch? Even my students could throw them, but I threw it anyway at the mannequin's chin since Lance started throwing daggers at me with his eyes again.

"Good," he said, looking satisfied with my punch.

"Throw again, but this time open your palm when you're throwing. Use the lower portion of your palm," he instructed, and I punched again with my open fist.

"No, no, not like that," he corrected, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "You're supposed to push forward, not just stop when your palm connects with the chin."

I nodded and tried again.

"God, you're doing it wrong again! I told you to open your palm when you're throwing it, not when you are about to throw it!" he shouted at me when I got the punch wrong again.

"Why are you shouting at me? You told me to open my palm, so I did!" I shouted back, and he looked so shocked. I scoffed, and I threw the heel palm strike in the way he wanted me.

"Good..." he said softly, and I narrowed my eyes at him. See? I could get it without him shouting at me. He cleared his throat and started teaching me another attack.

"This is an elbow strike. Raise your right shoulder and swing your elbow parallel to the ground with full force. Keep your closed fist near the torso," he said, displaying the mechanism for me.

"Pivot feet; left foot with the left elbow, right foot with the right elbow. Okay?" he asked, and I nodded, observing him carefully.

"You then have to swing the opposite shoulder back. This will add speed and power," he said, occasionally glancing at me, making sure that I followed everything he was saying. "Shift weight on your feet while pivoting. Now try it."

As time went by like that, we focused on those attacks he was teaching me. Every time I did something wrong, he'd shout at me slightly, and he would teach me again correctly.

The time passed so fast that I even forgot the real reason that I was here. No, it was not because of the training—it was for the delicious food he promised me.

"Boss," Sebastian came in when we were taking a break.

Lance immediately left my side. Sebastian then whispered something in Lance's ear, and I felt a shiver run through my spine when I saw Lance smiling.

It wasn't a happy smile — it looked more like his murderous smile. He glanced at me, and his smile increased, as if he was a serial killer and he just found his next victim.

No, I shouldn't feel scared. He wasn't a serial killer. This was Lance. He was a mafia leader, yes, but he was also teaching me how to defend myself.

However, that smile on his face right now must be related to me. But why? Seems I just had to find out.