Chapter 11: Rest or Threat

Kai

Kai lay sprawled across the couch, the heavy weight of her body pressing her deeper into the cushions. Every shift was met with a dull throb along her side, where the slash had dug deep and left behind an injury she couldn't ignore. The white gauze that wrapped around her torso peeked out from beneath her black Gi jacket, but she hadn’t looked at it since she first saw the blood. Denial was easier than accepting the truth—she was hurt, and it was more than just physical.

The quiet of Sara’s apartment wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. Outside, the sounds of Sydney’s streets murmured faintly through the windows, but inside, everything was still, save for the occasional rustling of a page as Sara sat across from her, the book she was reading seemingly forgotten.

Kai’s gaze flicked to the ceiling, her thoughts spinning in frustration. She couldn’t keep lying here. She couldn’t stand being still. Every minute spent not training, not working, felt like an eternity. And yet, every time she tried to push herself to get up, a sharp pain reminded her that her body didn’t care about her stubbornness.

“Stop it.”

Kai’s head jerked toward Sara, who was watching her with that infuriatingly calm expression.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Kai opened her mouth, ready to argue, but Sara cut her off before she could speak.

“I don’t care how many times you try to sneak out of here, you’re not going anywhere until you heal,” Sara said, her voice steady but firm. “I’ll tie you to this couch if I have to.”

Kai shifted uncomfortably. “I can go to the dojo. I’m fine.”

“No. You’re not fine.” Sara’s eyes narrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “And I’m not letting you push yourself just to prove you’re tough. You’re not invincible, Kai. You need rest.”

“Don’t start with me.” Kai’s voice was low, a warning.

“I’ll call someone, if I have to,” Sara added, almost casually, as though it were no big deal. “I’ll call Preston.”

At that, Kai’s entire body tensed. The very name dropped like a stone in the pit of her stomach.

“No.” Her voice cracked, just a little, but it was enough to make Sara pause.

“I’ll do it, Kai,” Sara said, crossing her arms. “I know how stubborn you are, but this isn’t a game. If you don’t want to listen to me, you’ll listen to him.”

Kai’s fists clenched at her sides. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” Sara’s tone was unflinching, resolute. She stood up from the chair, walking over to the counter where her phone sat, picking it up as if the threat was already in motion. Kai’s heart raced, her mind already spinning with what that could mean.

The idea of seeing Preston again—of being near him again—filled her with equal parts dread and something else she refused to acknowledge. He was her last Dom, the one she had let herself be vulnerable with in a way she hadn’t been in a long time. And now, just the thought of him was enough to make her stomach churn. She hadn’t spoken to him since their last scene a couple of weeks ago, and that’s the way it was meant to stay.

“I’ll stay here,” Kai said quickly, before Sara could make any move to dial. “I’ll rest. But you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone else.”

Sara paused, looking back at her with raised eyebrows. “Not even Richard?”

Kai’s breath hitched, and her eyes narrowed in frustration. She didn’t want anyone else knowing the full extent of her injury. She didn’t want anyone to know just how fragile she felt right now. How much she hated being unable to move, to control her own body.

“Especially not Richard,” Kai muttered, slumping back into the couch, her resolve momentarily crumbling.

Sara walked back over, her posture softening slightly, though the sharp edge in her voice remained. “Fine. But no more sneaking off. No more gym. No more dojo.”

Kai closed her eyes, feeling the sting of her own defeat. The couch felt too soft. The rest too overwhelming. But her pride wouldn’t let her argue further. “I’ll rest,” she said quietly.

Sara’s eyes softened, but she remained firm. “Good. Now sleep. You’ll be a hell of a lot more useful when you’re healed.”

Kai didn't respond. Instead, she turned onto her side, wincing as the movement stretched the injury, but not caring enough to stop.

Sara stood for a moment longer, watching her closely, as though searching for something Kai wouldn’t give her. Then, without a word, she walked out of the room, leaving Kai alone with the silence that now felt heavy, oppressive.

Kai’s eyes closed, but sleep didn’t come easily. Her thoughts continued to race, flickering between her stubborn refusal to accept help and the memories of a time she’d rather forget.

She hadn’t wanted to need anyone. Not back then, and certainly not now. But Sara was right. She was human. And even if she didn’t want to admit it, she wasn’t invincible.

Her thoughts drifted back to the dojo, to James’s eyes on her. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her for more than a moment. It wasn’t just that he’d watched her; it was the intensity of his gaze, the way it felt like he was studying her, searching for something. For a brief moment, their eyes had locked across the mat, and it had felt like a jolt of recognition.

The deepest reaches of her mind screamed that she knew him. That there was something she was missing, something important. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t place him. She couldn’t figure out where she had seen him before.

There was something familiar about him. The sharpness in his gaze, the way he moved, the confidence he exuded—it all resonated with a part of her that she couldn’t ignore. She hated that she couldn’t remember. It gnawed at her, the sensation that she should know who he was. That maybe they had crossed paths long ago, but nothing clicked. Nothing fit.

The quiet of the room pressed in on her, and she tried to ignore the swirl of frustration building inside. She couldn’t afford distractions right now. She had enough on her plate without letting some mysterious connection to James throw her off.

But the pull was there, undeniable. And for the first time in a long while, it made her wonder if there was something bigger at play.

The weekend dragged on in a haze of rest and frustration. Kai spent most of it on the couch, restless yet unable to escape the grip of her own exhaustion. Despite her efforts to stay still, her mind kept racing, thinking about the gym, about work, and about the things she couldn’t do. Her body was rebelling, a constant reminder that she was not in control—at least not right now. And every time she tried to push herself, every time she tried to get up and pretend everything was normal, the pain would pull her back down into the harsh reality.

By Sunday night, the dread of the upcoming Monday meeting with Richard began to settle deep in her chest. She had tried to push it away all weekend, distracting herself with the mundane—watching movies, scrolling through her phone, reading—but no matter how much she avoided thinking about it, the truth wouldn’t leave her. The injury was too severe to hide. She couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there anymore.

The tape around her ribs wasn’t just a minor inconvenience anymore. It was a clear sign of something that couldn’t be ignored, and Richard would notice. He always noticed everything. If she showed up to the meeting looking like she’d been in a fight, it would be impossible to cover up. She could already picture the look of concern on his face, the questions he would inevitably ask. The guilt gnawed at her, and she cursed the vulnerability she hated to show. She wasn’t ready to explain. She didn’t know if she ever would be.

The weight of the thought hung over her, thicker than any of the pain in her side. She couldn’t afford to let him see her weakness, but she had no idea how to hide something this big. No matter how hard she tried, it felt impossible to prepare for what was coming.

And that was the worst part: knowing she couldn’t control the situation.