“Come on.”
Riley placed the mop against the wall.
The laughter stopped.
She began unzipping her hoodie.
Jake's smile faded slightly.
Underneath was a dark gray athletic shirt.
She rolled her sleeves.
Her forearms were lean rather than muscular.
There were several faint scars.
One ran diagonally across her left forearm.
Another crossed her wrist.
Near her elbow was a small black tattoo in the shape of a triangle.
An older man sitting on the bench saw it.
His face changed.
His name was Marcus Hale.
Most people at Hollow Creek knew him as one of the older members.
He was sixty-one.
He had a permanent limp in his right leg.
He rarely spoke about his past.
He had competed in combat sports for decades before an injury ended his professional career.
Marcus stared at Riley's forearm.
Specifically at the tattoo.
His water bottle slipped from his hand.
It hit the floor.
Nobody noticed.
Marcus stood slowly.
“Riley.”
She looked toward him.
For the first time, something changed in her face.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Marcus whispered:
“Where did you get that?”
Riley looked at the tattoo.
Then at him.
“Long time ago.”
Marcus took one step closer.
Jake laughed.
“What's wrong, Marcus?”
The older man didn't answer.
He was staring at Riley.
Then he whispered:
“No.”
Jake looked between them.
“What?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Riley stepped onto the mat.
Barefoot.
Jake's expression returned to confidence.
“All right.”
He rolled his shoulders.
“Let's dance.”
Riley stood across from him.
Jake bounced lightly.
“You ever fought before, mop girl?”
Riley said nothing.
Jake smiled.
“Guess I'll find out.”
The coach on duty, Victor Shaw, walked toward the center.
Victor had been coaching martial arts for twenty-five years.
He had seen enough fights to know when someone was nervous.
Riley wasn't.
He looked at her feet.
They were slightly wider than shoulder width.
Her weight was balanced.
Her heels were light.
Her shoulders were relaxed.
Her hands weren't raised high.
But they were ready.
Victor frowned.
“Riley?”
She looked at him.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Jake laughed.
“She doesn't even need gloves.”
Victor looked at him.
“Don't be stupid.”
Jake grinned.
“Light round.”
Victor pointed at both of them.
“Controlled.”
Jake nodded.
Riley said nothing.
The room gathered around the mat.
Someone started a timer.
Three.
Two.
One.
Beep.
Jake moved first.
He expected Riley to retreat.
She didn't.
He stepped forward with his right foot.
Riley shifted left.
Tiny movement.
Almost nothing.
Jake reached for her arm.
Riley turned her shoulder.
His grip missed.
He tried again.
This time faster.
Riley stepped inside.
Her left hand touched his wrist.
Her right hand touched his elbow.
She shifted her hips.
Jake's feet crossed.
His balance disappeared.
The regional champion hit the mat.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
Just suddenly.
One moment he was standing.
The next he was sitting.
The entire gym went silent.
Jake stared at the ceiling.
His expression was almost comical.
Riley stepped backward.
Jake sat up.
“What was that?”
Riley looked at him.
“You stepped too far.”
He stared.
Someone laughed nervously.
Jake stood.
“Again.”
Victor said:
“Jake.”
“Again.”
Riley didn't move.
Jake raised his hands.
“Come on.”
Victor looked at Riley.
She nodded.
They reset.
This time Jake attacked aggressively.
He shot for a takedown.
Riley sprawled.
His momentum carried him forward.
She turned his shoulder.
He rolled.
Riley followed.
Within seconds, Jake found himself trapped in a position he recognized immediately.
A shoulder lock.
Not fully applied.
Just enough.
He tapped.
Once.
Twice.
The room erupted.
Riley released him immediately.
Jake stood.
His face was red.
He looked around.
Nobody was laughing now.
Marcus Hale was still standing.
He stared at Riley as if he'd just seen a ghost.
Then he whispered:
“I knew it.”
Victor turned.
“Knew what?”
Marcus looked at him.
“That isn't a janitor.”
Riley picked up her hoodie.
Marcus stepped forward.
“Riley Bennett?”
She froze.
Jake looked at him.
“You know her?”
Marcus's eyes never left Riley.
“Know her?”
He laughed once.
A sound filled with disbelief.
“I watched her fight before you even had your black belt.”
Riley closed her eyes.
“Marcus.”
He smiled.
“I thought you were dead.”
The gym went completely silent.
Jake looked at Riley.
Then at Marcus.
Then back at Riley.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Riley pulled her hoodie back on.
She didn't answer.
Marcus did.
“It means you just challenged the wrong woman.”
And for the first time that afternoon, Jake Marsden looked afraid.
Not because Riley had beaten him.
Because he had begun to realize that he had no idea who she was.
The Name She Buried
Riley left the mat without celebrating.
That surprised everyone.
There was no smile.
No raised fist.
No dramatic speech.
She simply picked up her mop.
Victor stepped into her path.
“Wait.”
Riley stopped.
Jake stood behind him, breathing heavily.
Victor looked at Marcus.
“What's going on?”
Marcus ignored him.
He was still staring at Riley.
“You really thought you could hide forever?”
Riley looked tired.
“I wasn't hiding.”
Marcus laughed.
“You were cleaning floors.”
“Yes.”
“For three months.”
“Yes.”
“After spending six years competing internationally.”