29. Skylar
CHAPTER 29
SKYLAR
I t’s been another hard day at work. I haven’t told Bones yet because I don’t want him to worry, but accidents keep happening—far too many to be coincidences.
They have to be purposeful.
First, it was the tech and his hand. Next, one of the engines crapped out after it had just been checked, and then our track was flooded. Today I went in to find my tires all fucked. Noah has this look in his eye, like he knows something but he won’t speak to me about it, and it makes me feel annoyed and worried.
Who is fucking with us?
Who is willing to damage our property and hurt people?
Why?
Is it because we qualified? It has to be. That’s the only thing that’s changed. It puts me in a shitty mood, though, and there’s only one thing that can cheer me up—my boy. I head over to the gym he’s giving a lesson at tonight, knowing I shouldn’t, but I need to see him.
I need to be around him, even in a room full of others.
I need him to make it all better and remind me that there is still good in this world.
I leave my jacket and everything in the car, and at the class doorway, I kick off my shoes so I’m in my tank and jeans. I lean into the wall and just watch my boy. He’s standing before the class in some shorts and a vest, with rows of women of all ages before him, listening intently.
I don’t blame them. If he were my teacher, I would have paid attention in class too.
“Does anyone have any questions?” he asks kindly, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.
I lift my hand, grinning as all eyes turn to me. “Yes, I have one. I’d like to take this class,” I say.
Bones’s eyes narrow in annoyance, and he crosses his arms. “This is a women’s self-defense class.”
“Feels a little sexist,” I retort. “You don’t mind, do you, ladies?”
“Not one damn bit,” someone says.
“If you take your shirt off, I’m good with it,” another comments. She’s easily old enough to be my mom. I like her style, but my boy is possessive and jealous, even if he won’t admit it, so the shirt stays on.
Winking, I wag my finger at her as Bones sighs. “You want to be a part of this class?”
I grin. “Absolutely.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, an evil grin curving his lips, and I shudder as a bad feeling builds in my bones.
My boy is cruel and vicious, and I love it.
I stand before the class at his side. “Everybody, say hello to Skylar. He will be our volunteer today as I show you some new moves. Say hello, Skylar.”
“Hi, ladies,” I say with a grin despite the fact that I know I’m about to spend the next hour getting my ass handed to me by my boy. At least he’ll have his hands on me. “Go soft on me, baby. I won’t be able to play with you later if you don’t.”
Bones’s angry eyes cut to me, and I just grin as giggles sound out in the class.
An old lady, easily seventy, lifts her hand. “Bones, is this your boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
We answer at the same time, and I grin as he glares at me. “How about I show you how to silence an attacker?”
“Oh, I know this one. The throat?” a young girl asks.
“Very good. Let me demonstrate.” My eyes widen as Bones grins evilly at me, but I don’t move away as he brings his hand toward my throat. I gulp, but he stops when he’s just barely touching me. “One smooth hit will disable them. Alternatively, you could use your elbow.” He steps back. “Now, last week we were practicing throws. I want to show you another one.” He looks at me. “Attack me from behind.”
“I do that every night,” I tease, and his glare makes me chuckle as I head over, grabbing him.
He reaches up, holds me tightly, then flips me. I hit the mat hard, the wind knocked from my chest. I just lie here, struggling to breathe, as he explains it to them again.
Fuck, my boy is strong.
Why is that so sexy?
“Just like that. Now let me demonstrate again slowly.” And so it goes. I am up and flipped over and over until he has them practice, and then he moves through them, correcting their hands and postures. I see their confidence grow and their excitement when they manage it.
My eyes track my boy. I’m so fucking proud of him, I don’t care about my aching muscles. He’s giving them their power back and giving them confidence. Does he even notice the devotion in their eyes as they watch him or the relaxed, happy atmosphere he creates?
He says he’s cruel and cold, but as I watch him, I know everyone else, including him, is wrong.
An hour later, I’m lying on the mat, panting and sweating. He beat my ass for an entire hour. I have no doubt he used more force than necessary, but every time he smiled in victory, I let him do it.
“Here.” I open my eyes to see him thrusting a water bottle toward me. I lift my arm to take it but groan and let it flop back to the mat. Rolling his eyes, he lowers to his ass as his class talks and packs up. His arm slides around me and lifts me into a sitting position as he opens it and hands it over.
I take a drink and groan. He reaches out, brushing away drops of water from my chin and lips. “You sore? I might have gone too hard on you,” he admits, worry in his gaze. He’s concerned he will drive me away and that, once more, he will be too much.
“Don’t worry, beautiful. You can beat me up anytime and kiss it better later.” The class giggles, some hooting and shouting.
“Anyone who shouts will run ten laps,” Bones snaps.
“I’ll run them for you, shout away!” I yell from the mat as I grin at him and wipe his sweat away. “You did good today, baby. I’m proud of you. You’ve created an amazing thing here.”
He shrugs and looks away, embarrassed under praise, so I turn his face back to me.
“I mean it. You’re giving them the skills necessary to protect themselves. That’s amazing, Bones. I’m so very proud of you.”
“Thank you,” he mutters.
“You guys are so cute,” someone calls, and I grin as I glance over at the class.
“What do you think?” I ask, slinging my arm over him and pressing my cheek to his. “Do we look good together?”
“Yes!” they yell.
“See? They think so too,” I flirt. He shoves me away, but he’s grinning. He tosses the water at me and goes to see them out. He walks some to their cars before coming back.
He locks up, turns the lights off, and offers me his hand. “Come on, let’s go home.”
He called it home.
With me.