Ryker looked at Sterling. Sterling looked back. The unspoken conversation was short: you go. No, you go. I'm not going. I'm not going either. Someone should go. Not me.
Kael threw a feint. Maddox didn't bite. Maddox threw the same feint. Kael didn't bite. They reset. Tried again. Same feint. Same non-reaction. Somewhere their father's ghost was either laughing or taking credit.
"You hit like our father."
"You fight like you take a piss sitting down."
"Stop aiming for my face."
"Stop having a face worth aiming at."
"I hope that hurt."
"It didn't."
"You're limping."
"Stylistic choice."
In unison, they grabbed each other, falling to the floor, and rolled.
"I'm going to kill you."
"You've been saying that for twenty minutes. I'm still here."
"I'm building to it."
"Build faster."
"Stay the fuck down."
"Make me."
"I've made you. Twice."
"And yet I keep getting up. Must be frustrating."
"You have no idea."
"Are they always like this?" a visiting lady whispered.
