Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Beck
Quinn, Sutton and Sloan are sitting against one of the padded walls in the gym.
Sutton looks annoyed to be awake. Quinn looks intrigued by our faux weapons. Sloan still looks a little flushed from being my breakfast in bed this morning, but I can tell she’s a bit anxious by the way she wrings her hands in her sweatshirt.
Asher and I are in the middle of the mat getting out our resin knives—the size of pocket knives—we use to teach our classes.
“The best place to keep a knife is either attached to your waistband, in your boot, or on a necklace tucked under your shirt. Out of sight but easy to access,” Asher explains.
“It’s always important to remember all of the techniques we’ve taught you in the self defense classes. But having a knife to access, just in case things start to escalate too quickly is a great tool for you to carry,” I add.
Asher tucks his faux knife into his waistband on his right hip. “It’s best to have the knife on the side of your dominant hand, but you should really learn to use it on either side.”
I take this moment when he’s slightly off guard to charge at Ash from behind, pinning his arms to his side, and start pulling him backwards, as if I’m trying to abduct him.
Asher immediately drops into a low squat, which allows him room to grab his knife from his waistband. He pulls it out and slices at my wrists to get me to release him and runs away.
“You always want to try to go for things that are going to debilitate the offender immediately. People always assume it’s stabbing anywhere on the body that causes them to bleed, but it takes time to bleed out.
Adrenaline buys the offender even more time to continue to attack you.
So, go for the tendons or nerves in an arm or wrist that’s wrapped around you.
It forces them to let you go because those limbs functionally stop working.
The tendon above the knee is also a place to go for.
Their knee buckles and they can’t run after you, giving you a chance to escape.
Your goal is to get away, not to kill,” Asher teaches us.
I lay on the ground with my knife tucked in my waistband getting into position for the next most common way to be attacked.
“Abusers…” I start meeting Sloan’s eyes. Hoping I don’t scare her. “I’m sorry, Little Dove. Abusers will try to get you on the ground, so they can have the upper hand. They might throw you, hit you, pin you, or choke you.”
Asher climbs on top of me, sitting on my hips. Asher’s body blocking the access to my knife. Asher reaches forward putting his hands around my neck like he’s going to choke me.
I immediately thrust my hips upward, knocking Asher off balance, causing him to fall forward a little bit.
I reach down to my knife and rip it out.
I bring up the knife slashing at Asher’s wrist and then slam my arms up and through Asher’s.
Completely knocking him off balance. I push myself up the mat still lying down, almost in a shrimp position and use my feet to push Asher away.
Getting out from underneath him, I hop up and run off.
“You are going to want to thrust them up with your hips so you can get to your knife. Do anything to get them off of you. Get them off balance while they are on top. Try to get their elbow to bend so they release the tension around your throat. If you can get to your knife, your options are going to be to slash at their arms so they release your neck, or slash at their forehead or eyes,” I continue, demonstrating the technique of how to hold the knife and how to slash the person or the air in this case.
“A scalp laceration bleeds like crazy. They won’t be able to see anything, so you’ll be able to get out and run,” Asher offers.
“Are we going to get to practice or did you wake me up early for nothing?” Sutton sasses.
Asher chuckles, “Yes, you ladies can practice on each other. Take turns. We’ll watch and make corrections as you go.”
“Start with the ground exercise first, we only have about a half hour left,” I instruct.
“Yes, boss.” Sloan winks, getting up from the wall. She walks over and lays in the middle of the mat where I just was laying. Surprising all of us when she says, “I would feel more confident if you were the one pinning me and I was actually able to get out from underneath you, Beck.”
Quinn whistles.
Sutton’s eyes are like a pinball, bouncing back and forth between mine and Sloan’s. Bugged out of her head like a cartoon character. She’s holding her breath waiting for my answer.
Asher snaps his fingers at Quinn and Sutton. “You two. Get on the mat and start practicing.”
“Not a chance. I need to watch this,” Quinn sasses Asher.
“Sugar.”
“You heard me, Asher.”
Asher huffs out in annoyance but doesn’t say another word.
“You’re sure, Little Dove?” I ask Sloan quietly, almost like we’re the only two in the room.
She looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes, Beckett. I’m sure. You’re so much bigger. So much stronger than James. If I can get away from you…” She inhales and then exhales. Shaking her head, like she’s trying to shake off a bad feeling. “Then I could get away from him…”
“Okay, Little Dove.” Tucking my knife in the waistband of her leggings on her right side. I climb on top of her, pinning her pelvis down to the mat with my hips. Feeling the knife underneath me.
“Beckett?”
“Yeah?”
“Do not hold back on me. I need to prove to myself I can do this,” Sloan declares, her eyes never leaving mine.
“I won’t. But I will not bruise this body unless it’s for pleasure, Little Dove. Our safe word still stands for this,” I lean forward to whisper in her ear for only her to hear. Kissing her just below it.
“I’ll say stop if it’s too much for me.”
“Ready?” I ask sitting upright on top of her. Reaching forward, I put my hands around her tiny neck.
“Ready,” Sloan whispers, fear mixed with determination in her eyes.
The room is dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.
I sit my full weight down on Sloan’s pelvis and start to apply pressure to her neck. Enough that she feels it, but not enough to actually harm her. No part of me wants to harm a hair on her head. I want to be a place for her to rest, not another war zone.
Sloan starts to thrust her hips up but she can barely move my weight.
“You just need to pop yourself up enough, to try to twist the littlest bit to your right side so you can get to your knife, Sloan,” Asher instructs her. “Don’t tire yourself too soon.”
“You’re too heavy,” Sloan screams out, frustrated.
“Do not quit, Sloan. You’re going to have more adrenaline if you’re scared. Pretend I’m James. Use all of your might to get me up so you can get to your knife,” I demand.
Sloan takes a deep breath and then yells out, thrusting up as hard as she can and twisting to the right a little bit. Sloan’s able to wiggle just enough that she can reach for her knife.
I apply a little bit of pressure to Sloan’s neck, just to remind her that I’m still choking her. That she only has so much time and needs to be efficient with it. Get her knife. Get out of there.
Sloan’s hand holding her knife comes stretching up between us and she slices at both of my wrists. I pretend to drop forward on her, as if my wrists give out.
Sloan shoves me and starts scurrying back, tucking her body and scooting up the mat, until she’s free. Sloan uses her feet to shove my shoulders back to get further away from me and then jumps up, running toward the girls.
Tears are streaming down Sloan’s face when Quinn and Sutton both wrap her tight in their arms.
Storming over to her, I rip her out of their arms. Spinning her around, I cradle her face in my hands and kiss her. Pouring into this kiss how fucking proud of her I am. For fighting. For not giving up.
When I pull away, Sloan’s in a daze. “I’m so fucking proud of you. That was perfect.” I drop another soul-searing kiss on her lips. Completely forgetting we have an audience.
When I look behind her, I see Sutton and Quinn are staring at me with shit-eating grins on their faces.
“OMG, I called this. Close proximity. One bed,” Quinn squeals with glee, hopping up and down.
“All of our favorite tropes. You so called that.” Sutton giggles.
“We are right here you guys.” Sloan laughs.
“We know.” Sutton and Quinn each drop a kiss on Sloan’s cheeks.
“Your hour is up, ladies. Looks like you are free to go.” Asher shakes his head at their shenanigans.
“We will walk you back to the café,” I suggest.
“We still need to work out, man.” Asher slaps my back.
“I know. We will. After we walk them back.”
“Always so damn protective. Shit,” Asher rags but throws his arm around Quinn’s shoulders, pulling her close to him, as the five of us walk out of the gym.
My Little Dove tucked in close to my side too.
I guess I don’t have to carry her everywhere.