“Ignore that giant oaf,” Santiago said, drawing my attention back to him. “I thought—since you must be feeling better and all—if you want to head downstairs. Try some moves out on me.”

I stood there for a second, trying to figure out what the hell Santiago was doing hitting on me, especially with such a lame pick-up line, before he pointed down. To the sparring square.

Right. That kind of trying some moves. I gave him my best are-you-sure-about-this look. “Seven times not enough?”

He rubbed a hand along his cheek. “It’s been a few years. Maybe I’ve gotten better.”

“Maybe have I, too.”

He flashed me a bright grin. “Shit. Now I’m rethinking this whole thing.”

“Well, you offered.” Now that I was warmed up, I knew I’d enjoy kicking his ass again. “You can’t back out now.”

“Sweet. You done with that?” He motioned to the treadmill.

“I guess I am now.”

Ahiga cleared his throat, and I turned to him.

He’d turned off his treadmill and was watching me. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“Probably not, but I’m going out there tomorrow, and the thought of dying without letting myself go for at least a second…”

I couldn’t think that way, but martial arts had been my release for so long. It was one of the few things I retained from my early childhood. No matter how bad things got, my mom always found a gym or a secluded section of a park or an abandoned warehouse for me to practice in. And when Jorge had set me up with the warehouse, it was literally the best gift I’d ever been given. For eight years, the only time I’d truly been happy was when I was in that nasty old warehouse. Getting some of that back was just what I needed.

“I have to have something to live for when I’m out there or I won’t last.”

“And fighting is what you live for?”

“Yes.” Moving my body like that, it was as essential as air to me. My mother said my father was the same way.

I wanted to sigh at the confusion that flashed across Ahiga’s face, but I knew that look too well. I’d seen the same look from so many people in my life. It should’ve been my red flag with Haden. He tried to understand why fighting was important to me, but a couple weeks into our relationship, he’d started to resent the fact that I’d choose to spend time at the warehouse rather than hang out with him. Maybe the fact that I was a girl made it hard for him to understand. I should’ve been playing damsel and waiting for some guy to save me, but that wasn’t how my brain worked.