Lost Treasure: Into the City

I’m sitting in this uncomfortable black leather chair in front of a large mahogany eight-foot desk in Logan Trip’s office at the fitness club he runs. I’m reading over the contract he gave me before he stepped out to answer an important call.

It had been a week before he called Bill to make this appointment to sign on. Peggy threw a little party at her house to congratulate me. It would have been at the restaurant, but word of my fight brought too much attention for my liking. So much for keeping a low profile.

Peggy dropped me off here and is waiting outside. She could tell I was nervous; I was chewing frantically on the end of a straw. She ripped it out of my mouth and told me to relax. She said Logan was approachable, Bill has known him for years. It helped me a little.

Logan comes in and sits down behind his desk. He looks to be 6′6" wearing a loose white t-shirt with his club’s logo on it and gray workout shorts. His whole body is muscular, wide shoulders with his hips narrow. Reminds me of a triangle.

His hair is black, cut short on the sides and long on the top. He has thick dark brows over steel light blue eyes. His thick lips are surrounded by a well-kept dark goatee. The shape of his face is thin but blocky with a strong chiseled jawline. When he spoke, I note a Russian accent.

“Sorry about that, Jewel. Let’s get started. Have you had a chance to look over the terms of the contract?” Logan says gesturing to the paper in my hand.

“Yes. One year’s training, free room and board, use of equipment, free groceries for exchange for an additional one year fighting under your leadership of this territory. Right?”

“Yes, with the understanding you follow my rules, diet plan, workout schedule, and any other miscellaneous instructions I give. You can address me as Mr. Trip or Sir in public or during a training session, address me as Logan in my home, which is where you will be housed. There are two other males staying there, as well.” As he speaks, he ticks off each requirement with his fingers then steeples them in front of him. I nod my understanding.

“I have to say, Jewel, Bill doesn’t usually recommend my services to just anyone. My kind of training is in high demand and spots in my club are limited. Which is why I require mock fights... additions. I want to see what level of training the person has, and if they’re worth my time.

So, when he called me about seeing you, to be honest, I was a bit hesitant. For one, you’re human and two, you’re age. I’m glad I did and now understand why he thought of me. Which leads me to a question. How does a highly skilled young southern bell end up here in my neck of Chicago?” He asks raising an eyebrow.

I knew this was coming. I don’t know if I trust him to tell him everything. Plus, I really need his training, so I don’t want to scare him off. My hesitation leads to his next question.

“Are you in some kind of trouble? If that is what you’re worried about, don’t. I have taken in all kind of people;however, I want transparency from the beginning. Once you sign this contract, you belong to me for the length agreed. I protect what is mine with all my resources.” He states plainly.

“Ok. My family was killed, and I got away and the killers are still after me. My parents used to come here for business meetings. I remember Father talking about time spent on the lake after meetings and complaining how he couldn’t handle the smell of the center of the city.

So, I came here to search for people they might know. I’m not sure what purpose for their death or why they still hunt me. I hid in Knoxville, but the same two men found me. So, I came here. This is why I need your training. I failed to protect my siblings as they were killed right before me.

With the strength and training I have, it meant nothing. All I can do is run, but when will it end? I need to be stronger, faster... I don’t know, better than them when they find me again.”

Logan listened quietly as I spoke. I tried to keep my voice even as I was getting upset as I went. Anger filled my chest as I retold the twin’s death and guilt gripped my throat as I admitted my failures.

A heavy silence falls between us. He turns in his swivel chair to look out the window. Panic sets in as seconds tick by. I lost him! He won’t take me on, it’s too much! My palms are sweating, the pen he gave me was in my mouth. He spins back to face me. I hold my breath and pray to my Goddess.

“Jewel...O’Tool, correct?” I nod. “I feel there is more to you than you are telling me, however I understand. I do hope eventually you’ll feel you can trust me to tell me everything. Moving on to my next question. Where do we begin? For what I can tell, your skills are past beginner level. Your guard is tight and spot on. Your attacks are delivered properly and swiftly. Your stance and movement are great. Your style is different, not one I can put a name to. I’m really impressed.” He smiles as he gives the praise.

I let out my breath with a whoosh, blowing the contract I set down on the desk fluttering to the floor. I start to feel better, proud even. He’s impressed with my skills! My body relaxes and my spirits lift. I bend down and pick up the contract from the floor.

“I guess we can work on strength training, and dance lessons. I noticed your feet weren’t as graceful, plus it will help when we get to advanced moves specialized for females.” He says as he writes on a notepad.

“Dance lessons? What does dancing have to do with fighting?” I ask crinkling my nose.

A sheepish smile grows, “It teaches balance, helps you find the beat, makes you lighter on your feet, and many more. You’ll see. Is there anything else I need to know before you sign?” His smirk causes me to grin like a fool.

I explain my problems with sleeping because of the nightmares. He said he would help me through it. I couldn’t tell him what I was dreaming, but he had some ideas.

I sign the contract. Here’s to new beginnings.