Antidote by LC Lehesaho

30

After getting back home, just in time for my reminder training, I'm glad I don't bump into anyone on my way to the gym. When I get there and rush inside, I see Pietro sitting on the floor, leaning on his knees. He lifts his head up, and the look on his face tells me enough. That and the fact he is wearing camo colored MMA shorts and sparring gloves, without being sweaty is enough information.

"You gotta be kidding me," I huff out, placing my hands on my hips as I drop my head down and take a deep breath.

"I don't want to do this," he says quietly.

"He actually wants us to..." I let it hang, hoping that he won't say what I think this means.

Pietro nods, rubbing his palms together in an anxious manner. "Yes." He shakes his head, wiping his hand over his face. "Goddammit, kid. This is fucked-up. I'm not okay with..."

"Hitting women?" I end for him.

"No, not if someone's life isn't depending on it."

"Where is Dad?"

"Coming." Pietro gets up, and I take in his massive body. The devil tattoo on his ripped stomach and his forearms, which are the size of my thighs, has never looked so sinister as it does now. Only the depressed look on his face eases my anxiety, just a little.

"Oh, my God," I huff, walking to the women's locker room to change. I was expecting something special, the look on Dad's face when he stared at me beside the hospital bed said it all, but this? Dragging Pietro into this? Fuck me sideways.

After changing into a sports bra and tight shorts, I tighten the gloves on my wrists while preparing myself for what's about to come. I don't want to hurt Pietro, and he clearly is not okay with doing it to me either. If dad would've picked Corey, one of the guards, who is actually human trash, I wouldn't have a problem. The guy is the biggest asshole in the world, but Pietro? He once went to pick up tampons from the store for me because I ran out, and I was bleeding onto my thighs. Pietro is a definition of a good guy, just like Luke.

Yet again, my fuck-ups have caused harm to innocent people who have nothing to do with me and my problems.

A hard knock on the door almost makes me flinch. "Cobra, are you ready?"

I can do this. I can. This will be the last time. By taking a quick Zen-moment, I get my headspace ready and step out to meet Dad, who knocked, and Pietro, who still looks like he's going to be sick.

"Did you have a nice day with Luke?" Dad asks all casual while leaning on the wall, arms folded across his chest, and one leg resting over the other. His slacks and button-up shirt tells me that he has been in a meeting with someone because otherwise, he would wear something more casual like sweatpants or something. We are used to his youthful appearance, but people who meet him for the first time are usually shocked by it.

Right now, I'm shocked about the fact that he picked Pietro, knowing how we would feel about it. Though it shouldn't surprise me, when we piss him off, he knows how to play mind games with us.

And Dad always wins.

I answer his stare and nod. "Yeah, I had fun. But I won’t have fun anymore." I nod toward Pietro. "Why him?"

Dad gives me a challenging smirk. "Oh, you want someone else, then?"

"Fuck, yes. This has nothing to do with him," I retort, and watch him pull his phone from his pocket.

"Let's call Tiger then; he was eager to come earlier, so he probably wouldn’t mind."

My eyes widen from shock. "No, what the hell? No!"

Slowly Dad raises his eyes from the phone to me, cocking his head to the side. "No? So, you're okay with Pietro, after all?"

I turn my gaze to Pietro, who nods in approval. "Fuck." I let out a sigh. "Yeah, we're good." Then his earlier words sink into my brain. "Wait. What? What about Tiger? He wanted to come here?"

Dad slides the phone back into his slacks. "Oh, yes. He's not happy about you dating, not at all. He looked like he was ready to raise hell in my office, and after he heard that you have this training, he was almost begging me to let him come. It looks like you two have some unfinished business, so maybe it would've been a good idea to take him instead of Pietro. Clear some air."

I squint at him, ignoring the urge to find Tiger and strangle him for letting his feelings show, "What exactly do you want us to do?"

"Nice that you asked." Dad nods toward the tatami. "KO."

I can hear Pietro cursing under his breath at the same time as my eyes bulge out from the horror. "Dad, you can't be serious!"

"Yes, of course I am. It's up to you two how long this will take, but you'll fight until one of you is out," he says in a smooth voice like he's telling me to make pizza for dinner and put oregano on his.

"Oh, my fucking God." I can't believe he's making us do this. Anxiousness starts to linger in my veins like poison. This situation is even worse than I had thought. Knock out? Dad is out of his fucking mind.

"Why?" I ask, unable to comprehend.

"Because you have no idea how much you scared me, no, all of us while pulling a stunt like that, letting someone beat you senseless." His tone lowers as anger starts to shine from his eyes. "You could've died, Cobra." He pushes himself off the wall, glaring at me. "So, now, you're going to knock out Pietro, or you'll watch me do it, and I promise you, I'm not as gentle as you are. After this, every time you let your guard down on the field, whatever the reason is, you will do the same to someone you care about. You let someone knock you out, then you will knock someone else out, and right now it's Pietro."

I bend down, resting my hands on my knees and trying to breathe.

"And may I remind you that if either one of you tries to go easy on each other, I'll shoot him in the head." At this, I spin my head around to stare at him wide-eyed and mouth open, but Dad nods like he’s saying yes, you heard me right. "Just to teach you a lesson, Angel. Never let anyone get you."

One last time. One last time. Straightening myself, I face Pietro. "Don't you fucking dare go easy on me."

He gives me a sad smile. "I would never force you to live with that, and for that, I'm sorry. Hit me with your best shot, kid."

Dad claps his hands together. "Okay, then. The rule is that there are no rules. Fight."