By lunch time, I'm covered in soon to be bruises, and my back and butt are almost numb from hitting the floor so many times. I gingerly walk to the edge of the training room, where there is a couple of chairs, and gratefully collapse into one.

I don't think I have ever been in so much pain in my life, and I'm covered in sweat and small scratches. Clearly, combat is not my thing.

"Jennings, catch." Caleb grabs a bottle of water out of a small fridge that's in the corner and throws it at me, but my reflexes are too slow and it hits me on the arm with a loud thwack.

"What the hell, Calloway!" I rub my arm where another bruise will probably show up tomorrow.

He just chuckles, clearly finding amusement in my pain. "Rule number one, Jennings," he reminds me.

I curse under my breath, tempted to tell him where he can shove his rule. I settle for taking a sip of the cool refreshing liquid instead, letting it slide down my throat and quench my thirst as my breathing returns to normal.

"Right," he claps his hands together. I don't think he has even one drop of sweat on him; he doesn't look like he's spent the morning knocking me to the floor. While I'm still heaving and panting from exertion, his breathing is even, the rise and fall of his chest calm and steady. "One-hour break for lunch, and then we need to get back into it."

My mouth drops open and I wait for him to laugh indicating that he was joking. When he doesn't I know he is serious. "Are you insane?"

"You need to be 100% committed."

"You need to be committed-," but he doesn't let me finish my sentence, grabbing my arm and pulling me back up to my feet.

"Let's get you something to eat." He drags me out the training room and I struggle to keep up on my wobbly legs. We head back through the endless hallways, eventually arriving at a kitchen I haven't seen before.

Steam fills the air, pouring out of numerous pots littered across two gas burners. Heat emanates from an oven that's tucked away in the corner closest to the door. Pleasant aromas of garlic and onion invade my nose the second we step inside.

A lady stands by a steel counter, pressing a rolling pin on a dough of some sort. Her blonde hair is tied up into a bun with some loose strands clinging to her forehead and neck. Her cheeks are dusted with flour and slightly red from the heat in the room. A white apron covers her front, littered in an array of colours and stains. She looks up as we enter, a smile immediately stretching across her face.

"Ah Caleb." She places the rolling pin down, walking over to him and throwing her arms around him. "It's so lovely to see you. I'm assuming this young lady is Peyton? How is training going?"

"She's bad at it," he answers before I can, earning a scowl from me. I can't help but feel that it's partly his fault. If he had just let me have my morning dose of caffeine, I probably would have been more switched on.

Actually, that's not true. He still would have beaten me easily, but at least if I had coffee in me it would have softened the blow.

"Don't listen to him, dear." She pats me softly on the arm. Her brown eyes are filled with genuine warmth and I decide I like her already. "I think it's very brave what you are doing."

"Thank you, uh-," I realize that she knows my name but I don't know hers.

"Alice," she fills in the blank for me. "Can I get you anything to eat?"

"Alice prepares all our meals," Caleb explains. "And also, she makes the best pasta you have ever tasted. Peyton will have a sandwich, please Alice. With anything."

Do I not get to decide my own food anymore either?

He pulls up a bar stool at the marble kitchen counter and gestures for me to do the same. I gingerly lower myself onto one, wincing as my body protests in pain. Alice turns to the fridge and pulls out a loaf of bread, beginning to prepare our meal.

"Was I that bad?" I ask him as Alice places two cheese, tomato and ham sandwiches in front of us. I already know the answer, but I'm hoping he will at least be nice about it.

"You didn't land one hit." He takes a bite of his food and chews thoughtfully for a moment. "But, you are pretty clever once you stop overthinking."

Gee, thanks.

We eat in silence for a while, watching Alice as she continues to work on her dough. Caleb wolfs his down, finishing first and immediately standing up. "Right, let's go."

"I'm still eating!" I protest. In truth, I have been chewing as slowly as possible, trying to stretch out the break for as long as I can. My body still feels sore and I need a moment before he starts kicking my ass again.

"Bring it with you." He turns and walks away before I can argue again.

I mumble a quick thanks to Alice who is now preparing some sort of red meat, and walk quickly after him, sandwich still in hand. The soreness of my limbs prevents me from going fast enough to catch up with him.

He reaches the end of the hallway and stops to wait for me, tapping his foot impatiently. When I finally reach him, he takes a left turn instead of a right one, and then another, until we reach the steel ladder we had just climbed down this morning that led into the farmhouse.

I reluctantly climb out, my body screaming in pain. It takes me far longer than I'm proud of, but I manage to get to the top, crawling onto the dusty floor and waiting for him there on my hands and knees. He swiftly follows me, easily managing the climb and shaking his head softly when he sees my current position.

"Come on, Jennings." Reaching a hand out, he helps me to my feet – yet again. He leads me outside, the fresh air dancing across my skin and the sunlight seeming far too bright after the dimness of the halls. "Rule number two; assess your surroundings."

I look around. To my left is a line of trees leading into a forest, all around me on every other side, is farm land, and behind me is the old farmhouse. The rusty water tank sits proudly on its rickety metal frame.

"Rule number three; decide your course. Take a deep breath and think about where you want to go. What is your best option here?"

The most obvious answer is the trees. The farmhouse is too confined, it's the kind of place you could get trapped or cornered in. The acres of grass are another option, but that would mean being exposed, there's nowhere to hide amongst the open farm land.

The trees, surely? It has to be the forest; there are plenty of places to hide in there.

"Right." Caleb pulls me out of my thoughts with his seemingly favourite word. I feel like I've heard it far too many times today. "Now, I am giving you a one minute head start to run and then I am coming after you."

"One minute?" I ask incredulously. How the hell am I supposed to get away from him in sixty seconds when I can barely climb up a small ladder?

"That's very generous, Jennings," he tells me. "You won't get that in actual combat."

"But-," I start to argue, but he cuts me off.

"Fifty five seconds left."

I decide in a second, hooking my foot behind his and shoving with all my might before turning and running towards the trees as fast as I can. Which, given the ache I feel in my legs right now, isn't very fast at all. It's more of a limping gait.

I don't even stop to see if he fell to the floor when I pushed him or if he is following me. I reach the tree line and push past a branch, broken twigs crunching beneath my feet. My heart pounds in my ears, making it hard for me to concentrate on remembering the rules that Caleb told me.

Assess your surroundings.

I grab a fallen branch that's a little heavier than I expected, and hide behind the trunk of a large tree. I'm panting way too loudly and I'm sure he is going to hear me. I try to slow my heart beat and calm my breathing but it's futile. I'm tired, sore and slightly anxious and it's painfully obvious. It's only a couple of seconds before I hear his pounding footsteps coming closer.

One minute head start my ass.

Or maybe I am just that slow. That's far more likely.

I wait until he runs past the tree I'm hiding behind, then swing my branch with the little bit of strength I have left, catching him behind his knees and sending him face first onto the muddy floor. Normally, it would never have worked, but he hadn't been expecting it; too focused on trying to find me.

Taking my chance, I jump onto him and hold his head on the floor with both hands, my knees digging into his back. "Not so nice now is it?"

I wait for five more seconds before releasing him and standing up, brushing dirt off my legs. I can't help the triumphant smile that graces my lips or the satisfied feeling at finally managing to take him down. After a morning of me hitting the floor, it's nice that he eventually gets a turn.

My victory is short lived though. Caleb pushes himself onto all fours and then in the most ninja-like move I have ever seen, twists his body around and swing his legs, crashing into me and sending me to the ground. The wind gets knocked out of me, and I gasp loudly as my back hits the floor. I'm so surprised by the sudden change of position that for a second I can't even move, giving him time to stand up and place his foot on my windpipe.

"I'm almost impressed, Jennings." He presses down slowly, his sneaker digging into my throat. I try my best to pull it off, but it's no use. I'm weak and sore and he's so much stronger than me. I splutter as he presses down a bit harder, the soft smile on his lips a contradiction to our current position. "You really almost had me there. Which leads me to rule number five. You haven't won until your enemy is dead."

"You missed a rule," I manage to choke out despite the pressure on my throat.

He finally releases his foot and reaches his hand down to help me up. I cough, rubbing my windpipe and glaring at him. Reluctantly, I grab his hand, our fingers entwining as he yanks me to me feet.

"Rule number four." He doesn't let go of my hand, instead using it to pull me closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His eyes sparkle mischievously, the colour of fresh cut grass and bad decisions. "Know your enemy's weakness."

And with that he leans down and presses his lips to mine.