Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Shannon’s clear and steady voice filled the gym. “Be aware of your surroundings,” she said, her solemn gaze skimming over me and the ten other students forming a semi-circle around her.
“No walking like you’re free lunch.” She hunched her shoulders, dropped her gaze to the floor, and slipped her hands into the pockets of her black cargo pants. She took a few steps. “The very first step in self-defense is to carry yourself confidently.”
She spun around, this time holding her shoulders back, head up, hands unrestricted at her sides.
The double doors at the back of the room opened with a groan and heavy footsteps padded over the wooden floors before squelching over foam mats.
“Quinn,” Shannon said, a grin quirking her lips for the first time since the lesson started. “About time you got your butt in here.”
“Got caught up with my professor,” came the thick voice I hadn’t heard in a couple of days. I’d been living in the Scribe offices, late every night, finishing my Halloween special.
I glanced over my shoulder. Quinn strode toward Shannon, the fluorescent lights making his bleached hair and clubbed ears more prominent. His gaze scrolled over us, settling on mine. The moment marred his casual grace, and he hesitated mid-step.
I expected a smile or a wink, but after a second of blankly staring, he refocused on Shannon. On automatic, I pushed up my glasses but—thinking logically—I removed them and jogged them to the bench at the side of the room.
“. . . strong body posture and eye contact,” Shannon said as I slipped next to a slim fellow named Cheddar who sported an earring and a double-dimpled grin.
Quinn, now up front with Shannon, nodded.
“The aim in self-defense is to get out of a situation. It’s not about fighting to win; it’s about fighting to run.
” He raised his brows toward Shannon and the rest of us.
“We should all be big fans of running here. It can save your life. What we will show you over the next six weeks are techniques that can help you get to the point where you have a chance to run.”
Shannon sprung a surprise attack on Quinn, pulling out a plastic knife from her pocket and lunging toward him.
Quinn responded quickly, pivoting out of her aim and grabbing control of her knife-wielding arm.
He yanked her closer and demonstrated kneeing her in the crotch and applying force to her arm until he could take control of the weapon.
A shiver climbed slowly and steadily up my spine until it released in a shudder. They made it seem so easy, yet when Freddy had attacked me, there hadn’t been time to think. I blinked back the image of those sharp, glittering fingers. Let’s see how you like this up—
And then The Raven appeared, swooping in out of the blue.
I tried to grab my pen but I only brushed my hand over loose, pocketless sweatpants. Instead, I balled my hands and focused my attention on Shannon.
“There are four distances of attack that we will look at: kicking distance, punching distance, grabbing distance and what to do if you are pinned on the floor.”
After Quinn and Shannon demonstrated a few defensive moves, they paired us all up to practice.
My partner Genna, a Hispanic woman with a nervous smile and painted eyes, didn’t hesitate to launch herself at me. I fumbled a block. After we righted ourselves, Shannon touched my arm.
“Mind if I give you a few pointers?”
“Go right ahead.”
She showed me how to angle my hand so I wouldn’t be likely to sprain or break my wrist in an attack. “Keep your fingers angled toward your attacker, you want them to hit their eyes.”
Over her shoulder, Quinn and Cheddar were chuckling at something. Quinn drew Cheddar close, showing him how to grab an attacker’s neck and bend him forward. I mimicked the move on my partner, getting a cheer from Shannon.
“Good,” she said, sincere and—relieved?
How much did teaching these classes remind her of Hunter? I was under no illusion that she taught them for any other reason than wishing her brother had been able to protect himself.
“Keep practicing,” she murmured and moved on, freeing my vision of Quinn and Cheddar yakking easily as they blocked and attacked.
Quinn’s gaze flickered in my direction for a brief moment, and then he laughed loudly at something Cheddar said.
“All right,” Shannon called out. “Swap partners. Get a feel for how someone else attacks and how to respond. Remember, confidence.”
I thanked Genna and picked a path to Quinn. “Okay, let’s do this,” I said, planting myself front of him.
He blinked down at me, his brow creasing slightly in the middle. For a moment he said nothing, just stared. And then a professional, relaxed Quinn said, “Feet shoulder-width apart.”
His hand landed on my upper arm and his fingers slid down my sleeve as he coaxed me forward. “Lean slightly inward. Keeping your balance is essential.”
“It’s been a busy few days,” I said, practicing throwing a palm-punch to his face. My fingertips brushed over his nose, cheek, and the side of his eye. His eyelashes scraped over the pad of my thumb as he blinked. “Hope you haven’t been making dinner expecting I would come.”
No answer.
“If you have, I’m sure it made for good lunches.”
Quinn stepped closer, slowly sliding his hand around the back of my neck. His palm was warm where he pushed me down. “Try it,” he said.
It was the same move I’d watched him show Cheddar, the one I’d practiced on Genna a few times already. I copied step-by-step, catching the tips of Quinn’s hair on the length of my fingers as I steered him down.
When he came back up, I waited for his comment. Again, nothing.
It was my turn to frown. I started to describe how well I executed that maneuver, when he suddenly spoke. His words were puffs of air against my cheek as he locked his arms tightly around me. “You look different without your glasses on.”
Per Shannon’s earlier instruction, I shifted into his embrace instead of against it, pressing quickly against him and steering my thigh to his crotch in a would-be kick. I smirked. “You look different without my glasses on too.”
This was the part where Quinn was supposed to show how my moves affected his balance and stumble backward in submission.
He didn’t. He tightened his arms instead until I was cocooned in warmth, the light smell of Axe mingled with sweat filling my nose. He said quietly into my hair, “Did you ever get that date?”
“Yes.” I pushed until our bodies were flush. “Friday.”
This time when I lifted my thigh to his groin, I knocked him enough off balance that he didn’t have to feign stumbling. He caught himself, straightened quickly, and acknowledged the move by cocking his head.
“I got myself a date too,” he said.
He had? “Who with?”
Quinn jerked his thumb toward Cheddar.
“The cheese?”
Lips stretched into a satisfied smile as he crossed his arms. “My favorite.”
“To each his own, obviously.”
“It won’t bother you?”
“We’ve been over this, Quinn. No freaking out, I promise.”
“Not that. I mean—”
“Oh,” I said. Was he worried I would take it the wrong way because of our kiss the other day?
I quickly shook my head. “I’m not jealous or anything if that’s what you’re asking.
I mean, the kiss was great, Quinn. It opened my eyes to new possibilities that I need to investigate further.
But I can promise you, I’m not going to act weird around you or suffer under a pathetic crush. ”
Quinn’s cheeks bloomed with color and he scratched the back of his head. “Right. No pathetic crush. Good.”
Shannon’s voice sliced through the conversation. “And switch partners again.”
“Can I catch a ride home with you after class?” I asked, noting that Cheddar was eyeing us. Guess I knew my next partner.
Quinn sighed and motioned for Genna to pair up with him. “Sure, Liam. Sure.”