Chapter 50
50
T essa paced outside of the training room at the Brotherhood Alliance building.
Her stomach was a tight knot of nerves. Ford had dropped her off on his way to do some errands.
Ford wanted to walk her in, but she promised him that she was all right. Now she wished he had, since she was standing alone in the hall and not sure if she could go through with it.
A group class had started already, and from inside, she heard grunts, groans, and the occasional thud against the mats coming from the room.
She had already greeted a couple of men from the Brotherhood, who were leading the class, and knew Joy and Naomi were there to support her. Yet her feet felt glued to the floor.
The door opened suddenly, and Caleb stepped out dressed in a black tee and black shorts. He gave her an easy smile. “I was wondering where you were. You’re not chickening out on me, are you?”
Tessa took in his tall, muscular frame and gulped. Was she ready for this?
She swallowed hard. “Nah. I’m just contemplating writing my will,” she quipped, hoping to lighten the moment.
Caleb chuckled. “Let’s hope you don’t need it. Ford will kill me if anything happens to you. Then I’ll need to write one.”
He held the door open for her and gestured for her to enter. Reluctantly, she stepped inside. The room looked just like she remembered, with equipment lining the walls and padded mats covering the floor. On the mats, six women and four instructors were practicing moves. Joy gave her a cheeky finger wave before Titus tossed her to the mat with a resounding thump.
Oh, God! Tessa gulped. But Joy bounced up laughing, and she and Titus went over the routine again.
“Why don’t we sit for a minute,” Caleb said, guiding her to a bench against the wall. “I know you’ve been here before, but I’d like to refresh your mind with a few basic techniques.” Tessa sank onto the bench, her stomach churning.
Caleb crouched in front of her. “I know this is a big step for you, but I want to help, not push. We’ll go at your own pace, and if anything is uncomfortable, tell me. We can adjust it or go on to something else. Okay?”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“Great,” he said with an encouraging smile. “We’ll start simple.”
He stood and offered her his hand. She hesitated before taking it. They walked over to a mat, and he began by walking her through the basics—the stances, quick escape moves, how to break a wrist hold. Tessa focused on the movements. Caleb was patient and calm, making her feel safe.
“Are we okay so far?” he asked. “Ready to try?”
Tessa nodded, her confidence building slightly.
They started with the stance. Caleb explained it was the foundation of everything. “Being stable and grounded makes you feel in control.”
She mirrored his stance, and he adjusted her posture, explaining as he went.
“Perfect,” he said. “Let’s try practicing breaking a hold, and that’s probably enough for today.”
He showed her how to break a hold if someone grabbed her wrist, and they practiced a few times.
“You’re doing great,” he said. “How about we meet tomorrow early in the day? Paws for Caring doesn’t have a class in the morning, so we’ll have the area to ourselves.”
“That’ll be great.”
Caleb walked her out. She spotted Ford waiting in the hallway. His eyes lit up when he saw her.
“You need to practice more,” he said with a smile. “Caleb here still looks like a pretty boy.”
Caleb laughed. “Come see me later and we’ll see who’s the pretty boy.”
Tessa couldn’t help but laugh. Men!
Ford knew he’d never be able to thank Naomi or Tessa’s friends—heck, even the guys—for all their support.
After Naomi’s talk with her, Tessa decided to take the big step and talk to a therapist.
She confided in him that she was tired of feeling afraid.
Committing to continue with the self-defense lessons was part of that decision, and Caleb had volunteered to coach her. He was experienced in self-defense and combat techniques. Plus, while Caleb was newish and quiet, he had a lot of empathy for people and would help put Tessa at ease.
There was no way that Ford could. He’d never be able to hurt her. Unfortunately, learning self-defense meant sometimes you got hurt.
When he suggested the idea of shooting lessons, even though she hesitated, she eventually said yes. Today, he intended to help her find a gun that suited her hand, and then they would go to the range on the outskirts of town. One of Chase’s long-term goals was to build a gun range for the Brotherhood on the campus, but for now that was on the wish list.
Since the two women were similarly built, he asked Naomi which gun she used.
She suggested a Sig Sauer P365 or a Smith & Wesson M&P Shield EZ—both compact, easy to handle and reliable. Chase had helped her make the decision back then.
It was now up to Tessa to try each and decide for herself.
As for himself, he’d stick with his Glock19, a versatile handgun that never let him down. But today wasn’t about him.
Tessa’s determination to face her fears and empower herself made him proud, but he wasn’t telling her that. She needed to be proud of her own accomplishments. As they drove there, Ford hoped the range would give her the confidence and peace of mind she deserved.
Ford parked the truck in the gravel lot and glanced at Tessa. Her fingers were clenched around her purse, her knuckles white. He reached over, lightly touching her hand.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready,” he said gently.
Tessa looked over at him, determination strong on her face. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”
He nodded as he got out and grabbed the bag with their ammunition and guns.
The sounds of muted gunshots greeted them as they stepped inside. Ford had membership, so he signed them in, grabbed two sets of earplugs and safety glasses, and opened the door to the lanes. Several individuals were already shooting.
Ford handed her the two guns to try.
They met the instructor Ford had asked for, a no-nonsense woman who had been in the Army, to walk Tessa through the basics.
When Tessa was comfortable understanding gun safety and loading the gun, Ford showed her how to stand with the gun in her hands.
He stood behind her, adjusting her stance. “Feet shoulder-width apart, sweetheart, knees slightly bent,” he murmured.
She nodded and followed his instructions. He hung a fresh paper target on the clip and sent it about ten feet out.
Now he coached her through gripping the gun and aligning her sights. “When you’re ready, grip the gun tight, line up your sights and squeeze the trigger.”
Tessa nodded. The first shot was wide. She flinched at the sound. But her second shot was closer to the target. By the time she emptied the magazine, she turned to Ford with wide eyes.
“I hit it. I hit the target,” she whispered, almost disbelieving it.
Ford grinned. “You sure did.” He brought the target in, and they looked at her results. “Two in the chest,” he said.
“Hmmm.” She examined the target thoughtfully. “I’m aiming for the head next time.”
“Sounds good, but remember, a smaller target is a tougher shot. You have a better chance of hurting someone if you aim for a larger mass like the chest.”
As the session went on, Tessa grew more confident, and her grip steadied with every round. By the time she emptied the magazine again, she was grinning. “This is great. Knowing I can do this makes me feel safer.”
Ford’s chest tightened with pride. On the one hand, he hated that she needed to learn these things, but on the other, she was taking control of her life, and that was all that mattered.
“That’s the point, sweetheart,” he said softly. “You’re stronger than you think.”
They finished the ammunition Ford brought. He took a turn at the target, impressing Tessa with his accurate aim but telling her that it took years of practice, and he still practiced.
As they walked out to the truck, the late afternoon sun cast a golden light over the shooting range. Ford couldn’t help but notice that her step was lighter today. She wasn’t healed all the way, but he could see some of her confidence emerge. He would make damn sure she got there.
Tessa stopped suddenly and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Ford, thank you.”
He turned to look at her fully. With the sunlight behind her, she looked like an angel. God, she was beautiful.
“Tessa, you never have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do. You’ve been so patient. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Ford stepped closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’d find a way,” he said. “You are a strong woman, and I’ll be beside you as you find your way back.”
He helped her into the truck and walked around to the driver’s side. He glanced at Tessa, who was staring out the window. She faced a difficult path, yet he was confident she would emerge stronger and more resilient, and he’d be there to support her.