"Stop!" Father barks at me.

My shoulders tighten at the menace in his voice and I stop my hand from going any further, letting it drop instead of opening the door. Impatience like I've never known it knocks into me and I allow my jaw to tick before clearing my face of any emotion, turning around to face him. His face is reddened with anger and he jabs a finger toward his office, a silent command to follow him.

I glare daggers into the back of his head while he leads us. As the days go by I despise him more and more. I despise my life and everything about it. I'm caught in the hold of the shackles he's placed on me since birth. He has always made me believe that this is where I belong. It wasn't until Laura that I truly questioned it and now that I have, the answer has never been more clear—I do not want this life anymore. I don't want anything to do with my father or his way of life. I've always forgiven his wrongdoings, looked the other way even when I knew he was a dangerous and vile man, but it's becoming harder to ignore and I can't keep doing it.

What makes a man this way? What makes a man feel powerful in the presence of the fallen? It's cowardice at best yet my father believes he is strong. What's worse is he has all of New York believing it, myself included.

Deception is a funny thing. It makes you believe that lies are truth and truths are lies. That's why the world looks new when you realize you have been fooled the whole time. And I have been such a fool.

I close the door behind me while Father takes a seat at his desk. He's practically foaming at the mouth, eyes narrowed on me when I make my way to stand in front of him. That look—as humiliating as it is to admit to myself—used to terrify me. I've always thought of my father as untouchable. Now? Not so much. Not at all, even. I merely blink at him, not the least bit undeterred. He notices, if the flash in his eyes is any indication.

"What do you want?" I break the silence with my words. They're spoken casually, lacking the usual respect I give him.

Father's face contorts. "You will watch the way you speak to me, boy. It is not wise to get on my bad side."

As if any goodness exists in him. "I have somewhere to be."

"Don't you always?" He mocks. "I've been watching you. You disappear for hours at a time, neglecting your duties as leader. There is nothing more important than your loyalty to the South Bloods. Nothing. Yet you've made this family a second priority and I will not stand for it. Come clean while I have the patience to be lenient with you."

Or what, I want to say. I bite the side of my tongue to stop myself.

"My duties as leader will always be your business. But what I do on my own time is not your concern."

"Enough! Now, you listen—"

"You listen!" I smack my hands on the surface of his desk and he just barely jolts in surprise. "You are a suffocating man. You are unbelievably selfish. This is exactly why Mother drowned herself in a fucking bathtub to escape the nightmare that you are. I will not suffer the same fate! I complete the duties required of me but that is all you get. No more."

His eyes narrow on me, jaw ticking at the mention of Mother. It is the first I've spoken of her in the ten years since her death. I can see his anger increasing tenfold.

"Are you planning to betray us?" He inquires. "Working with another gang perhaps? Don't think I won't find out. Don't think I'll stop at anything to figure out."

"You do that." I straighten up, raising a brow. "However, I do wonder what the others might think if they found out Abram doesn't have control over his own son. What would they think of you or your leadership? Do what you must. Send our men to follow me. Have them wire my clothing. But at what cost?"

His fists clench, eyes blazing. I've never seen him so out of sorts. I lean forward and jab a finger roughly to his temple.

"Everything that's in there, I know. You trained me, remember? I will always be ten steps ahead of you. I will always know what actions you will take before you've so much as thought of them. Don't ever threaten me again."

I don't give him a chance to answer. Without sparing another glance I turn on my heel and stalk out of his study, slamming the door behind me. My chest expands as I pull in a deep breath. That was probably the first time I've ever stood up for myself. I feel weak in the knees.

"Raze." I recognize the deep voice and turn around, not surprised to find Byron walking towards me.

"I take it you heard that." It's not a question.

Byron rubs a hand down his jaw. "Think about what you're doing here. I've been sensing for some time now that you have no interest being our leader anymore. You have to understand why I don't agree."

"Your choices are yours just as mine are mine."

"I understand. The South Bloods have thrived off your leadership but son...old blood will always win. No matter what you do, everyone will follow the command of your father before yours. Including me."

It's nothing I don't already know, though I can't deny the unsettling feeling it gives me. "It's not like I'm leaving."

His expression tells me he doesn't believe me. Instead he crosses his arms and levels me with a serious look, voice low. "Is it a girl?"

Protectiveness like I've never known it knocks into me. I don't want these fuckers anywhere near Laura. I don't want them to even think about her. "No."

"You look ready to slice me open," He sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "You have been very good to me. Never undermined me and let me take command when you saw it fit. For that reason, I will keep the rest of our men away from you. But figure out what you're going to do and fast. In this life, everything is life or death. You hesitate one second too long and you can guess which side you'll end up on."

"I know." I swallow hard.

"We are loyal to our men but we are a dangerous breed. Some of these men are bloodthirsty, lacking a soul. You know we kill for sport so don't give us a reason to go after you. Tread carefully, son. I won't enjoy having to bury you if you don't."

I nod, not sure what to say. The truth is I'm acting on adrenaline alone. I don't know what I want. Not yet. All I know is that there's a beautiful girl I don't know how to leave behind, and dragging her down with me is not an option. I've been trapped all my life, but this is a bind I truly don't know how to escape.

***

"What are we doing?" Laura asks quizzically.

I close the door of the gym I rented out behind me, peering out to make sure no one familiar is nearby. Though I doubt I have to worry because I trust Byron's word that he'll help me keep my trail cold. Doesn't hurt to check.

"How much do you know about self-defence?" I ask her.

"Does my pepper spray count?"

"It's a start," I chuckle. I come to a stop in front of her and cross my arms. "I am going to show you basic fighting moves. All within your capabilities."

"How come?"

"It's a very good skill to have. Besides, I would feel a lot better knowing you have some sort of understanding of how to defend yourself."

She's quiet for a moment. "Your lifestyle is that dangerous?"

"Yes," I say solemnly, not surprised that she caught on to why we're doing this. "I would never let anything happen to you. Never. But I also think if fighting is something you can learn, then you should. Teaching will always hold more value than having something done for you."

She tilts her head. "Catch a fish for a man, you feed him for a day. Teach a man how to fish, you feed him for a lifetime."

My lips tug up with a surge of pride and I tuck her hair behind her ear. "Exactly, darlin'."

"Okay." She blows out a breath, anxiously running her hands down her workout clothes I made her change into. "Just don't laugh at me if I suck."

"No promises."

"Jerk." She shoves me with a laugh. "What first?"

"Fighting stance. The way you distribute your weight will make all the difference in how your moves are carried out. If you do it right, it will come to you easy and naturally."

For the next half an hour I do nothing but teach her how to get into position. Legs apart, hips lined, shoulders loose. I have her switch from all kinds of positions back into stance. Casually walking—stance. Sitting down—stance. Backed into a corner—stance. She's tense in the beginning but gradually loosens herself until it comes to her instinctively. And she does it damn well.

"Good," I nod in approval when she has it down. "Now get back into stance and I'll show you how to carry out three basic and effective moves."

"There's more?" She groans. My lips twitch.

"We hardly did anything."

"To you! I sit it one spot and paint. This is the most movement I've had in who knows how long."

I shake my head. "Then let's make a deal. After this, we will do an activity of your choosing. Anything."

Her brows go up. "Really? Anything?"

"I give you my word."

She taps her chin, eyeing me with an expression I can't read. "That's a very convincing argument. You negotiate well."

I shrug. "As a leader, I have to."

She blinks then and I realize this is one of the first pieces of information I've offered about myself and what I really do. I wait for the regret to come but it doesn't. More like relief, if I am being honest.

"I bet you make a great leader," She whispers. "I can see that in you."

I find it amusing that I've never truly wanted to lead the South Bloods yet with Laura's compliment I feel pride. She makes me feel greater than I am.

"Thank you." I clear my throat. "Do we have a deal?"

"Deal." She points a finger at me. "Anything."

"I don't even want to know what's going through your head right now," I mutter and she laughs. Something tells me I should be wary.

The deal was a good idea because she sobers up and listens to my instructions dutifully. I show her the most basic defence moves that she can perform with ease and would be the most efficient if she needs to make a getaway.

First I teach her how to free herself if grabbed from behind. Head-butt with the back of the head to the nose, turn and throat-punch, kick to the balls and run. Then I teach her how to get away if she's grabbed by one arm and only has use of the other. Poke out both eyes of the offender with fingers, then heel-palm strike to the nose upwards to send the attacker back. Finally, I teach her the elbow strike for when the attacker is too close and she has limited use of her arms and legs. One simple strike of the elbow to the jaw, chin, or temple is effective enough to push the attacker back.

It takes a lot of practice because Laura has to put in more force than she anticipated and she has to really make use of her core strength but it's a good first lesson. A couple of more and she'll be a pro.

"Excellent." I crouch down where Laura is splayed on the floor, panting hard. I smooth the strands of hair stuck to her forehead away from her face. "You did very well."

"I hate you," She groans. "I am so going to feel this first thing in the morning."

"It's a rewarding type of pain."

"Speak for yourself, buddy. Not all of us are fighters."

"You are," I say softly. "More than you know."

A small smile appears on her mouth as she eyes me. "I could say the same to you."

The comment is a reminder of earlier today. I sit down on the floor, leaning back on my palms. I know I should be more mindful in the information I indulge her in but I can't deny wanting to share what happened. I don't know when it happened but Laura has quickly become the person I want to share everything with.

"I stood up to my father today," I tell the ground more so than her. I can feel her eyes on me. "I haven't done that in...well, ever. And you want to know something, darlin'? He didn't scare me one fucking bit. I knew I had the upper hand. I knew in that moment he has always made me feel weaker than I am. I think he has always known that I could outdo him if I recognized my abilities, so he made sure I never did. He's not as untouchable as he thinks. I won't allow him to control me anymore."

Laura sits up, resting her chin on her knees. "How do you feel? Now that you've stood up to him."

"Like I should have done it a long time ago," I answer truthfully. We're quiet for a few moments, both of us lost in our own thoughts. "Do you ever feel like you don't belong? Even if you know it is your place, your family, you just don't fucking fit?"

"All the time." She smiles sadly. "It's how I felt about every foster family I was thrown in. Not all of them were bad. The family I lived with for the last two years I was in the system were really great. We send each other cards on holidays even now. I have nothing against them but...I always felt like an intruder. I knew I could earn my place with them if I just accepted it but it never felt right. It was like forcing together two puzzle pieces that looked like they could work, but you knew never would."

"Exactly." It's like she put every thought in my head into a tangible sentence that suddenly makes sense. I know Laura does not know much about my life but she's still managed to understand me far better than anyone else I've ever known. "How did you stop feeling that way?"

She thinks about it for a moment. "Finding myself. When you've spent your entire life being defined by others, you don't know who you really are. I had to get away and leave everything behind."

"Did it work?"

"I think so," She shrugs a little self-consciously. "I think I've come a long way from who I used to be. I think this is who I've always been."

I nod, a little envious of her surety in this moment. My voice is somber when I admit, "I don't know who I am."

"I do." She moves to sit on my lap, cupping my face and forcing me to meet her gaze. "You're a leader. A teacher. You are a good man, Greg. I think you were always meant to help others in some way. But you can only do that if you help yourself first."

I draw in a breath, setting my forehead to her collarbone and breathing her in. She gives me the peace I crave. "And if I don't know how?"

"Then let me help you," She whispers. Her arms go around my neck and she holds me to her. I don't think I've ever been held. "Let me help you the way you've helped me."

She has no idea that is what she's been doing this whole time.

___________________________

A/N

THE PROGRESS. Greg is truly starting to understand what he wants in life, and Laura is helping him get there. They are so perfect, what??

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Happy Reading :)