Chapter 33
33
CADENCE
I stumble through the door of the dojo, Nan's grip on my arm like a vise. The place buzzes with activity - bodies grappling, fists flying, feet dancing across mats. My eyes dart around, recognizing most of the techniques. I used to spend hours in places like this. Most of my childhood involved sweating and grappling. It was pretty damn fun, and I didn’t realize until I walked in here how much I miss it.
But I sure as hell don’t need some intro self-defense class.
"Nan, why are we here? What's the point of this?" I mutter, trying to tug my arm out of her claw like fingers. The woman is small but strong as hell. Maybe I don't have to worry about her as much as I thought I did. She seems pretty damn healthy.
Becca materializes beside us, like she just stepped through a portal. "The point, Cadence, is self-defense. It's crucial you learn to take care of yourself."
Her lecturing tone kinda makes me want to punch her. There's a better chance of that happening if I stick around. "Alright, I'm game."
Janey, Maya, and Bree wave from across the room, already decked out in workout gear. Holly’s a little behind them in sweats, nursing her son. I give all of them a half-hearted thumbs up as Nan drags me to change.
The class starts with basic stances. I mirror Becca's movements, feeling the familiar stretch in my muscles. We move on to blocks and strikes. My body remembers more than I expected, falling into the rhythms with ease.
"Good form, Cadence," Becca calls out. Her brow furrows slightly as she watches Nan execute a perfect palm strike. That's right Becca, she's a badass, and don't you forget it. She’s been training for more years than I’ve been alive. Mind you, a lot of it was grudging, but no way would grandpa let her walk around in the world without knowing how to protect herself. He always said we were his heart, out there walking around, so we better damn well know how to protect it.
We pair up for drills. I work with Maya, carefully pulling my punches. She grins, "You're a natural!"
If only she knew.
As we progress to more complex moves, I catch Becca's eyes on us more frequently. Her head tilts, curiosity etched on her face.
"Alright, let's try some grappling," Becca announces. "Cadence, you're with me."
My stomach flips. This could get interesting.
We circle each other on the mat. Becca lunges, aiming for a takedown. Without thinking, I sidestep, using her momentum to flip her onto her back. The room goes silent.
Becca blinks up at me, shock clear on her face. "Where did you learn that?"
I shrug, offering her a hand up. "Oh, you know. Here and there."
She doesn’t buy it, but moves on to knee strikes. The rest of the class passes in a blur of sweat and adrenaline. By the end, Becca's watching Nan and me like a hawk, her earlier confidence replaced by confusion and a spectacular set of crazy eyes.
As we file out of the dojo, a group of men catches my eye. The Brash brothers, including Maverick all rolling around on the mats. He hasn't spotted us yet, so I take full advantage, tracing every line of his body with my eyes. God, the muscles are on full display. They're even better coated in sweat than they are in the middle of the kitchen at midnight.
Though stroking might be a little inappropriate here. It's all look, no touch.
I was wrong, the kitchen is better.
Maverick's gaze locks onto mine, his smile soft and private. It sends tingles down my spine. Then he's flattened under another large body.
"That boy better keep his head in the game," Nan grunts, arms crossed. She's pretending she doesn't care, but I can see the little wince as Maverick gets tackled again. "Dammit boy, flip him," she yells.
He manages to wiggle out, and ends up getting his opponent - still no idea which brother it is- into an arm bar. They tap out, then sit up with a groan. It's Jonas.
Nan nudges me, waggling her eyebrows. "Cady, go out there and wrestle around with that man."
"Nan!" I choke out a laugh, feeling my cheeks heat up.
"My, my," she drawls. "If I were a few decades younger, I'd get down there and wrestle with you. Pretty sure I could kick your nicely rounded ass," she says, pointing at Colton.
The men burst into laughter, and I bury my face in my hands. "I am so sorry," I mutter. A decade or two ago, I'm sure Nan could have taken him, and god, what I wouldn't pay to see that. They wouldn't be laughing for long.
Maverick's arm slides around my waist, his chuckle rumbling through me. "No need to apologize. Your grandmother's a riot."
"So," Maverick murmurs in my ear. "Self-defense, huh? Learn anything useful?"
I grin up at him. "Oh, I think I could take you down if I wanted to."
His eyes darken, that special smile playing on his lips again. "Is that a challenge?"
"Oh you bet it is. We can—" Dammit, she's back. And staring at me, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you so creepy?"
Becca shrugs. "It's a gift." Her mouth purses as she stares. "So Cadence, where'd you learn those moves? That wasn't beginner's luck." She's trying to act casual, but she's practically vibrating.
I shrug, trying to keep my expression neutral. "Oh, you know, I picked up a few things here and there. My grandpa had some skills back in the day."
Nan coughs out a laugh, and covers her mouth with her fingers. "Some skills," she mutters. "Right. Some."
Becca doesn't look entirely convinced. She tilts her head, a challenge in her voice. "How about we spar? See what you've really got?"
Maverick shifts uneasily, moving a little in front of me, which makes my little heart pitter patter. But it also makes me want to show him what I'm capable of. The rest of the men look intrigued, gazes darting from Becca to me and back again.
Becca smirks. "Most of these guys aren't much of a challenge for me anymore. But hey, if you're too scared..."
I give her my best golf clap, grinning. "Nicely done with the reverse psychology, Becca. But you don't need to convince me. I'm game."
As we move to the center of the mat, Maverick steps forward, concern etched on his face. "Cady, wait. Becca's got black belts in like, everything. She's basically a ninja."
Nan's eyes light up, and she pats Maverick's arm reassuringly. "Don't you worry, dear. Our Cadence can handle herself." She gently leads him off the mat, winking at me as they go.
"They're not wrong," Becca says as we circle each other on the mat. "I've been studying since I could walk."
My heart races with excitement, a familiar thrill coursing through my veins. It's been too long since I've had a real challenge like this. "This should be fun then."
Becca strikes first, a lightning-fast jab that I barely dodge. I counter with a low kick, which she blocks effortlessly. We trade blows, testing each other's defenses. The peanut gallery is whisper yelling opinions on how quickly I'm going to get taken down. Other than Maverick and Nan, I do have one other man on my side.
"Make her cry, Cadence!" Colton yells, then immediately backpedals when Becca shoots him a death glare.
I grin, ducking under a high kick and sweeping Becca's other leg. She rolls with the fall, popping back up in a fluid motion. Her eyes are bright with excitement now, a fierce joy that mirrors my own. "I'm going to stop holding back," she warns.
Well fuck. I'm a little rusty, it's been a couple of years since I trained consistently, but there's no way I'm backing down now.
"I'm so scared," I say dryly, making her laugh.
We dance across the mat, a blur of strikes, blocks, and grapples. I pull from every style I know - the crisp movements of karate, the fluid grace of aikido, the raw power of muay thai. Becca matches me at every turn, her technique flawless.
At one point, she manages to lock me in an armbar. "Tap out. There's no shame in it. You put up a great fight."
I grunt, feeling the strain in my joints, but manage to wriggle free before she can fully extend. I counter with a judo throw, sending her flying. But Becca's too good to stay down for long.
The match continues, neither of us gaining a clear advantage. My muscles burn, my lungs heave, but I feel more alive than I have in years. God, I missed this. The sweat, the challenge, the pressure, and the absolute joy of testing my limits against a worthy opponent.
I can see the same happiness reflected in Becca's eyes.
Finally, after what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, I hold up my hand, gasping for breath. "God, that's fun," I manage between gulps of air. "But I'm a little rusty, and I think I could use a break."
Becca nods, not nearly as winded. She reaches out, and we clasp hands, grinning at each other like fools.
"That," she says, "was amazing. How did no one know you could do that?"
I laugh, shaking my head. "Am I supposed to lead with it? Hey, I know twenty ways to break someone's arm?"
"Yes," she says seriously. "Always lead with that."
"Weird," I mumble, nudging her with a shoulder, then dancing away before she can take me down.
As we turn back to the group, I'm met with a sea of shocked faces. Nan looks smug, while Maverick's expression is a mix of awe, pride, and something that looks a lot like lust.
"Where the hell did you learn all that?" he asks, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief.
I shrug, trying to play it cool despite the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. "My grandpa was a cop," I explain, glancing at Nan who nods encouragingly. "He was incredibly paranoid, and a huge martial arts buff. I've been in classes for as long as I can remember. Between the back-alley stuff he and his cop buddies taught me and all the formal training, I've picked up a thing or two."
“Wait. The cop. At the station. He knew you?”
“Yeah. He used to work at the same station my grandpa did. He always talked about wanting a cush assignment on this end of town in his golden years.”
“Cush assignment,” Maverick repeats with a grin. “How much more is there that I don’t know about you?”
“I am a woman of mystery,” I joke. He nods, not an ounce of humor on his face.
“Yes, you fucking are.”
The way he says it, the awe and appreciation clear in his voice, makes me a little gooey.
Colton pushes forward, his eyes gleaming. "Cadence, do you think you could make her cry?" he asks, jerking his thumb towards Becca.
I burst out laughing, shaking my head. Before I can respond, Becca lunges for Colton, making him squeak like a startled mouse and dance away.
"Or better yet," Colton calls from a safe distance, "can you teach me some moves so that I can make her cry?"
"Maybe Nan can. She's got some serious skills, too."
Nan snorts, her eyes darting between Colton and Becca. "What's with all the crying?" she asks, clearly bemused by the whole situation.
Becca's voice is calm, but her eyes sparkle with amusement as she explains, "Colton's a little bitch."
I watch in amazement as the three hundred pound mountain of a man gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like a scandalized southern belle. "You're a little bitch," he sneers back, his attempt at intimidation ruined by the glint of fear in his eye.
His bravado doesn't last long. As soon as Becca takes a step towards him, Colton yelps and tries to run. It's a futile effort. Becca's on him in seconds, pinning him to the mat with practiced ease. And yep, Colton whines and even cries a little bit.
"Come on big guy. You can do it. Just get out of it," Becca taunts, grinning. Maverick, Kade, Micah and Jonas all crowd around him, making not at all helpful suggestions. Even Nan shuffles closer, muttering "this looks like a predicament all right".
Ransom's standing at the edge of the chaos, grinning. Sliding up next to him, I lean in. "Are they always like this?"
His grin gets even bigger. "Nope. Sometimes they're worse."
"Lordy, I can't even imagine growing up like this. And it was your job to wrangle them all these years? How are you still sane?"
He laughs, turning to me and crossing his arms, but not in an intimidating way. More like he's had to stand in this stern father pose for most of his life, so it's comfortable and familiar.
"It was different at the beginning. There was a lot of actual fighting back then. Integrating all of these personalities into one unit took a lot of fucking work. When you come from backgrounds like ours, and from that place, you're used to fighting for what you need. It took a while for everyone to realize that we were a team, and if we were going to fight, because we had to, then we'd be smarter to fight together against a common enemy."
"What was the enemy?"
"We had a few. Poverty was a big one. For a while there was also a real possibility that we'd get split up."
"While you were in that group home you mean?"
"Yeah. When I turned eighteen, I got sent out with a handshake and a 'good luck'."
"That must have been scary. At eighteen Nan was still doing my laundry." And at twenty six when I moved back home, but I'm not going to tell him that. "And you were out there, figuring out how to take care of yourself?"
"No honey, by eighteen I already knew how to take care of myself. I'd been doing it a long time, though laundry still drives me to fucking drink. But I'd been preparing to turn eighteen for a long time. The group home wasn't like a prison, exactly. We could leave, and as long as you were in by lockdown, no one really cared what you did." He grimaces. "Well they didn't care what you did as long as the cops didn't show up. So I made sure I kept my business out of their view."
"I don't really understand you," I admit. "How does a teenager decide to build this family? How did you decide who to pick? And I'm really blown away by the fact that they all bought into it. At that age, we're all so stupid. Full of ourselves, and sure that we know what's best. And then you come along and say 'follow me if you want to live' and they do?"
He coughs out a laugh and shakes his head. "Something like that."
"No, seriously, how did you do it?" How does he become a person that had the confidence to pull that family together? How did he decide to do it in the first place? What drove him? I have so many questions!
Ransom cups my shoulder and yanks me to his chest and a loud thump and a groan echoes behind me. Looking back I see Kade on the ground, kicking at Micah's shins. Micah dodges them and full body slams Kade.
Ransom seems completely unfazed, tugging me toward a corner, and out of the middle of the chaos. Of course I scan for Nan, a little worried about her in the middle of all those bodies, but relax when I spot her standing with Holly, Janey and Maya, making faces at Holly's baby.
"I knew someone once," Ransom tells me, eyes on the women. "She was barely older than I was, but she walked in the world with absolute certainty. Like she was the star of the show, and the rest of the world would bend and cater to her."
"Like a movie star?"
"No. Shit. I'm not explaining it well. Have you ever met one of those people who just knew themselves right to the core? They were unshakable, and nothing ever seemed to faze them? To the point where it seemed like everything always went their way?"
"Yeah. You," I say flatly, making him laugh. "And me, before grandpa died." Ransom makes a low sound, and briefly cups my shoulder. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. He understands loss just as well as I do. Probably better. And we're both past the need for platitudes. I'll take someone standing in the pain with me over hollow words of sympathy any day.
"I'd never met anyone like that before," he says, gazing sightlessly across the room. "All I saw growing up was struggle. Grinding it out day to day to barely make ends meet. Then my life… blew up, and everything was different."
Something about the way he says 'blew up' sends a shiver down my spine. There's a gravity, a pain to the words that leaves me with so many questions.
"Then what happened? You lost your family, just like all of them did. Where did you go?"
"I was about thirty blocks from here for a few months, but shit wasn't going well. But I guess I was lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it. There was someone who cared about me, and what happened to me. And he pulled some strings and sent me to a…family that could 'handle my shit' as he put it. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be anywhere. But then things changed."
"And that's where you met…her?" I'm jumping to conclusions, but apparently, it’s the right one.
"Yeah, that's where I met her."
"How long were you there?"
"Three years. Those years changed everything. I walked out of there a different person. A stronger person. A—" He clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head. "What is it about you Cadence, that makes people talk?"
"I've been told I live in the land of non-judgement, so it makes it easy to tell me things."
"The land of non-judgement. What's it like living there?
"Lots of puppies."
His startled laugh makes a few heads look in our direction. "That sounds pretty fucking nice."
"It is nice. I've learned that walking around the world, assuming people are good, is a better way to live. Less stress, less frustration, less anger."
"Maybe I should give that a try."
"As opposed to?"
"Being suspicious of every new person. Always assuming they're out to get us until they prove differently."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is."
Suddenly we're surrounded by a mass of bodies. "Pie." Someone says urgently.
"Pie." Someone else repeats.
"What is happening?" I ask, kind of feeling like I've been surrounded by a horde of zombies.
"Pie," Maverick says, like that should be all the answer I need.
I look up at Ransom. "What is going on?"
"Pie," he says, shrugging his shoulders.
Everybody else nods. Well okay then. "Okay, Pie."
What did I just agree to?