Chapter 6 Lana
LANA
“We can start with the basics if that’s alright with you?
” Carter asks me, stepping closer on the large mat, his tall body towering over mine, his spicy scent crowding my air.
He’s been like this ever since we arrived, asking me if I was comfortable, if I wanted to eat, drink, stop and do something else.
He’s been studying my face like a surgeon, and all it does is make me want to spend even more time with him.
I wasn’t expecting him to bring me here.
When I thought of self-defense, I thought we would have gone to a random gym, but not here, in a motorcycle club.
I heard about his club on the local news and saw a bit of this world from the series on TV, but I know that everything that goes on here isn’t always legal.
The place is nice though; we’re in a huge gym, but it’s only us here.
His colleagues' voices rebound from the metal walls, but a few of them are sitting near the bar. There’s neon lights, vintage pinup posters, and bikes.
It’s large and industrial but still warm and inviting.
Somehow, I don’t fixate on the fact that Carter is a member of this club.
I married the perfect gentleman with a colgate smile and tailored suits, the kind of guy other women kept crushing on, asking me how come I didn't have more children with such a specimen.
Well, let me tell you that the day you discover that the impeccable facade is hiding behind layers of abuse and humiliation, you think twice about binding yourself to that kind of man even more.
People with no kids will never fully get it.
When you’re with someone, you can leave them in the middle of the night and start over.
No strings attached. None. But having a child is like being tattooed on your forehead.
You can’t act like it isn’t there. You can’t ignore the fact that your heart is now walking outside of your body.
And sadly, the human you love more than anything in this world is also made of the flesh of the man who abused you.
My pregnancy and my postpartum journey had been inked in my mind as the darkest part of my life.
Ben didn’t want to take care of me now that I wasn’t as thin, pretty, and happy.
My hormones gave me mood swings and deep moments of sadness.
I’ve lived it all alone for two years, the shadow of myself, barely alive.
The only energy I had was for Noah; the rest had been crushed under the loneliness, the longing for someone to take care of me in this challenging season.
He held the baby, sure, but who held me?
After this chapter, I knew making babies was over for me.
I could never go through this experience again, even with a kind man.
I had made a child with the devil, and that would be it for me.
No more babies. I just didn’t want that for my future.
It’d be Noah and me against the world, and that was enough.
All I could hope was to find a man who would never ask that from me, because that was one thing I would never compromise for anyone.
Even if my heart had desires of newborn babies and tiny milestones, my mental health mattered more.
“You okay?” he asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.
I nod and give him a light smile. Even though the Raven Sons have the reputation of dealing with the underworld, I won’t turn Carter down just because of that.
Since I met him, he has been more caring and protective than my so-called perfect ex, who should have been my endgame.
I’ve learned to have an open mind and stop judging people based on how they look.
It didn’t bring me far in my past, and it certainly won’t now.
It’ll be dumb to not give Carter a chance, even if this is just for now, even if this will stop the minute he realizes I don’t want children, I haven’t been with a man in a year, I don’t even know how to act without being triggered when he moves too quickly, and most of all, when he’ll realize how much Ben is still poisoning my life to this day.
If he’s as kind as he seems, he’ll soon realize that dating a single mom with an abusive ex is a nest of problems. And nobody wants that.
I sigh and smile. “Basics are good, wait, actually no. I’d….I’d like to know what to do if…um, someone punched me in the stomach,” I state faster than I should, the implication way too loud to hide from him.
“In the stomach?” he repeats, tilting his head, his blue gaze disappearing under his dilated pupils. I try not to gawk at him, but it’s hard given the display of muscles in his black T-shirt and shorts.
“Yes. What do I do if I’m on the floor and someone kicks me in the stomach?” I repeat more confidently.
Carter's jaw clenches as he processes my request, but he doesn’t shy away from it.
His eyes search mine, as if trying to gauge how deep the pain runs, but he doesn’t push for details.
Deep, that’s how far it runs. So deep into my bones, I’m sometimes afraid I’ll never get strong enough to carry on with so many memories stuck into me.
“Alright,” he says, his voice steady, though his expression darkens slightly. “If someone kicks you when you're down, your goal is to protect your vital areas. First, curl inwards,” he explains, “tuck your arms over your stomach, and use your legs to guard as much as possible.”
I nod, following his instructions as he demonstrates the move slowly on the floor, and I get down too, studying exactly how to replicate it in case… In case it ever happens again. Once he’s done, he sits and watches me closely, checking my reaction.
“You okay, sweetness?” he asks, and his nickname catches me off guard.
I nod, but I don’t reply, wanting to try his move but unable to do it, as if it would send me back there all over again. He kneels down beside me on the mat.
“If you’re on the floor, your instinct might be to panic, but you have to keep your focus. Shield yourself and get ready to strike back.”
His voice is low and deep, grounding me to the present. I take a deep breath and mimic what he showed me, rolling slightly to my side, using my arms and knees to block an imaginary blow. His eyes remain on mine, observing me for any signs of hesitation.
"Good," he murmurs, his tone soft and almost warm. "If they get closer, you use your legs and kick them away. You don’t have to be strong, just quick. Aim for their knees, their shins, anywhere that will make them back off," he says, hands on his tights.
I take a deep breath, and the tension in my chest loosens just a bit. He’s taking his time with me, not rushing, not pushing me further than I’m ready to go. And I like that, I really like how careful he is, how intentional he keeps on acting, never taking his eyes off me.
“You’re doing fine,” he adds, standing up and offering me his hand. “Let’s go through the basics now.”
I take his hand, the heat of it reminding me of the ride to the club and how his spicy wood scent made my head dizzy with fire and sparks.
His hand grabs mine strongly, as if I could rely all my weight on him and he’d still be there, holding me, preventing me from falling back in my past. As I stand up, I realize how close we are; my chest is heaving and I notice he’s clenching his jaw.
He does that a lot; it’s like his body is speaking for him.
Now that I think about it, I can’t remember ever seeing him smile.
“I’ve never seen you smile,” I murmur, the intimacy of the moment taking away my shyness.
“I don’t,” he replies, like it’s inconsequential.
“Why?” His hand is still holding mine, only this time, his thumb is brushing the back of my hand slowly.
“‘Cause that’s the way I am, Lana. There’s nothing to hide here, everything you see is everything you’ll get,” he says, his voice hoarse and low with a mix of sadness tainting it.
I don’t buy it, people don’t become closed off when they lead a happy life.
Children don’t lose their smiles if nothing happens.
There must be more to it. I’d need to be blind not to see that Carter doesn’t have the full palette of emotions displayed on his face like other people do.
And from the way he stares at me, I wonder if he can actually interpret all my emotions as well.
But I kind of like that about him, it’s strange, I know, but there’s something about a massive, tattooed, muscular man being direct and not hiding himself from me that I find very attractive.
I thought good looks, charm, and chit-chat were hot back then.
But I guess dark, caring, and honest are much more attractive to me now.
My chest tightens at a realization. If he struggles with reading emotions, can he see the effect he has on me?
“What if… I like what I see?” I whisper, knowing that by now my face is totally flushed, and it has nothing to do with our self-defense session.
His breathing gets louder as I watch his Adam's apple bob. Carter’s gaze locks onto mine, and I can almost feel the weight of his thoughts.
Time suspends around us, and the gym fades into the background.
My heart races, a wild mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through me.
“Lana…” he starts, his voice low and gravelly. The vulnerability in his eyes sends a thrill down my spine. “You’re not just saying that, are you?” His doubt cuts through me. I shake my head, staring at his icy blue eyes and drowning in them for a moment.
“Is it…hard for you to read me?” I ask tentatively, hoping it won’t rub him the wrong way.
He nods. “I think I get fifty percent of what you mean but the rest of the time I need to read your body language to be sure.”
My body language.
He watches my body to know what I’m saying.