11. Silas
CHAPTER 11
SILAS
I ’m standing beside my bike and about to put my helmet on when I notice Gwen walking toward me. “Hi,” I say, smiling.
She sends me a toothy grin, as if she’s as happy to see me as I am to see her. “Hi. How are you?”
“I’m well, thanks. How about you?”
“I’m doing okay. Is this a bad time? Do you need to leave?” She gestures to the helmet hanging from my hand.
“No. I’m not in a rush at all. What about you?”
“What about you?” That was awkward.
“Nope.” She giggles. “I just got here.”
“Want to grab a milkshake with me?” I blurt out without thinking. And now I’m left hoping my offer doesn’t scare her off. Please say yes.
She nods. “Sure. I’d like that.”
“Give me one second,” I say, holding up my index finger. Hurrying back inside the gym, I drop my backpack and helmet inside the door, then return to Gwen’s side. “Thanks. I didn’t feel like carrying all of that.” We start down the sidewalk, with her on the inside and me on the outside.
“No problem. With the way my life has been going lately, I’d rather your hands were free in case you need to fight off someone who’s wielding a knife.” She laughs nervously.
I nudge her arm with mine. “No problem. You can consider me your guy.”
“You probably think I’m joking, but I’m not. In just the last few weeks, I’ve been held at knifepoint twice.” She raises two fingers in the air and emphasizes, “ Twice .”
“Hold up,” I say, and we both halt in place. “Twice?” My eyebrows dip together.
She nods. “Yep.”
“Then maybe I should rescind my milkshake offer. Being around you might be dangerous.” The lower half of her jaw drops open, and I bark out a laugh. “Gwen, I’m kidding.”
She closes her mouth, pressing her lips together as she shakes her head at me. “You got me. I thought you were serious.”
“Come on. I haven’t had a milkshake in ages.” We start down the sidewalk again.
“Is this the point where you mention how well you wore mine last week?”
I laugh. “I forgot about that, but let me say, my dog wouldn’t stop licking my shins when I got home.”
“Oh God,” she utters, groaning. “What kind of dog do you have?”
“She’s a chocolate lab.”
“What’s her name?”
“Dove.”
“As in Dove soap?” she asks.
I laugh. “No, as in Dove chocolate.”
Now she’s the one who laughs. “That’s hilarious. You must really love their chocolate.”
“I have one of their dark chocolate covered ice cream bars every single day.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tried one.”
“We’ll have to remedy that soon.”
She sends a quick glance my way before focusing straight ahead. “I’m surprised you eat sweets at all.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re so fit. I figured you exist purely on protein.”
I snort. “Nope. I eat pizza and chocolate and a lot of other things I shouldn’t. But back when I was training, I had a much stricter diet—especially in the months leading up to a fight.”
“I can’t imagine being that regimented about my diet. Half the time I forget to eat.”
“I don’t think I’ve forgotten a meal in my entire life. I guess I’ve always thought of food as the fuel my body needed for training. So I was always strict about it.”
I feel like I’m rambling.
“Lately, I haven’t had much of an appetite,” she shares. “I should probably work on that soon.”
“You can begin right now,” I say, opening the door to MY YARD MILKSHAKES with a big smile. “This might not be the healthiest choice, but it’s a start.”
“Thank you,” she says as I gesture for her to enter first.
“Can I help you?” one of the teenage girls behind the counter asks. I nod at Gwen, and she orders a coffee Oreo while I decide on a chocolate shake.
When Gwen pulls out her phone and reads a message, my eyes do a quick scan of her from her head all the way down to her red Chucks. She makes the white t-shirt and black cutoffs more appealing than they should be—though, the shorts hug her ass nicely.
My gaze moves up, studying the soft curve of her jawline and the sharp angle of her unblemished cheekbone. Even with the scar she tries to keep hidden, I know the other side is just as beautiful.
Our drinks are placed on the counter and I step forward to pay.
“No, this is my treat,” Gwen protests.
I hold up my hand to stop her as she reaches in her pocket. “I’ve got it.”
“But I owe you?—”
“Nothing,” I cut her off. “You owe me nothing.”
She smiles softly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I pass the cash to the employee ringing us up. She hands me the change, and I tuck it in the tip jar. I hand Gwen her cup before grabbing my own. “Would you like to sit down?” I ask.
“Sure.”
I’ll take her quick agreement as a good sign. At least she’s not in a hurry to end our time together.
We choose a table for two at the side of the room and I pull her chair out for her.
“Aww, thank you. I’m not used to men with manners.” She sinks onto the seat. “Guys my age don’t bother being polite.” Her eyes flash wider. “Not that you’re old,” she hurriedly adds.
Chuckling, I sit across from her. “I didn’t think you meant I was.” But in reality, I probably seem ancient to her.
“How old are you?” She covers her mouth. “Is it rude of me to ask?”
“Not at all. I’m thirty-three. What about you?” Brace yourself.
“I’m twenty.”
Gulp.
“But I’ll be twenty-one next month,” she adds, sipping her milkshake.
“So you must think I’m old.” I smirk.
“Not even a little bit. I’ve always felt mature for my age, if that makes sense.”
“Actually, it does. I’ve often felt that way myself.”
“I live alone at school by choice. I don’t really have much of a social life. I have friends there, but most of the time I prefer to keep to myself.”
“I live alone too.”
“What about Dove?” she asks.
“Right, she definitely counts. So, it’s Dove and me on the first floor and Caleb and Gavin, who’s another of my fighters, renting my upstairs.”
“That must be fun having them around.”
“Sometimes. Other times, I wonder what possessed me to let them move in.”
She laughs. “Do you live nearby?”
“In Charleston. What about you?”
“I’m staying with my dad and my stepmom in Mount Pleasant.” Her pink lips wrap around the straw as she sucks down more of her milkshake, and I have to look away. I pick up my own cup and take another sip just to distract myself from imagining things I shouldn’t.
She clears her throat. “So, I have something I need to ask you.”
My gaze returns to her. “What?”
“Do you offer self-defense lessons at your gym?”
“Do you mean classes?”
“No, I’m looking for private instruction. I don’t think I’d be comfortable in a class setting right now.” She draws her hair across her scarred cheek, telling me why without having to come right out and say it.
“I don’t offer any kind of classes. It’s all one-on-one instruction. What are you looking for, specifically?”
“I want to be able to defend myself the next time someone assaults me.”
“The next time? Are you planning for there to be another one?”
“No, but you never know.” Her ear and shoulder meet in a brief shrug. “I wasn’t planning on there ever being a need, and now I live with that regret everyday.” She closes her eyes, hiding the sudden glassy sheen. Her lips roll inward and she clamps them together, as if she’s battling against the urge to cry.
“Gwen, I’ll teach you everything you need to know to defend yourself.”
Her eyes snap open. “Really?”
I nod. “Yes. I’d be happy to.”
The joyous smile that spreads across her lips is genuine and beautiful. And I’m willing to do anything it takes to see more of it in the future.
Her eyes fill with tears of happiness, but this time she allows me to see. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet,” I say.
“I’m just relieved you agreed to help me.”
“You might not be thanking me once we start. Most likely, you’ll be cursing me out. I’m going to make you work harder than you ever have.”
“That’s okay.” She pokes her bicep. “These chicken wings need some muscles.”
“How are you about taking instruction from others?”
“I’m a natural rule follower, so I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”
Think only professional thoughts.
“That’s ideal. Being a teachable student will go a long way toward ensuring you grasp the techniques we’ll work on.”
“Not to brag, but I have a history of being the teacher’s pet.”
Oh, you’ll be this teacher’s pet too.
“I have some hard-working students. You’ll have a lot of competition,” I say, winking.
She throws her fist in the air. “Challenge accepted.”
“When would you like to start?”
“As soon as possible. I still have some rib soreness, but can we still get started? I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“We can begin with some simple motions and see how you’re feeling as we go.”
She smiles, showing her excitement. “So when should I show up?”
“How does tomorrow night at seven work?”
She nods enthusiastically. “I’ll be there.”
“Are you ready to get started?” I ask. Gwen nods and rubs her palms on her gym shorts. “You don’t seem too excited,” I add.
“I am,” she says.
“That was convincing.”
“I’m also nervous. I’ve never done any self-defense before,” she confesses.
“Today we’re not even going to get to that part. We’re going to start really slow, so there’s nothing for you to be nervous about. Okay?”
She gives a quick nod. “Yeah.” But her body language shows her apprehension.
“Come and sit down here with me.” I walk out into the main sparring area and sit cross-legged in the center of the floor mats.
“Alright.” Gwen smiles, walks over, and plops down across from me, mirroring my position.
“So the first thing I want to talk about is awareness.”
“Okay.” Gwen stares up at me intently.
“Self-defense is about your personal safety. And the defense of your personal safety has to start with awareness.”
She gently nods her understanding.
“Will you do me a favor and close your eyes for a moment?” I ask politely.
Gwen immediately shuts her eyes.
“There are two points of egress if you need to get out of this building. Where are they?”
She stays silent briefly and then tentatively replies, “The front and the back?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Well, I came in the front door, so I know that one is right,” she starts to explain. “And I guess I’m assuming there is an exit in the back.”
“Well, your assumption is correct.”
“Yay me.” She pops her eyes open and smiles.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
“Oops. Sorry.” She snaps them shut again with a sheepish smile.
“Now, did you notice anyone else in here?”
“No.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Not anymore.”
“If you had to get out of this building and couldn’t go out the way you came in, would you be confident in your ability to do so?”
“Right now?” she questions apprehensively.
“Yes, right now. Imagine the front of the building is on fire and there’s no time to do anything but move. Where are you going?”
Creases appear on her brow. “I don’t… I’m not sure.”
“Now, open your eyes.” I let her off the hook. “Every place you go, everywhere you are, you need to know your surroundings.”
With her eyes now wide open, she slowly turns her head from side to side and takes in all the details of the space we’re in.
We talk a little more about physical awareness, and I slowly work her through a series of stretches including a couple she can do at home to ease the pain in her ribs. When we’re finished, her brow is damp and her cheeks are flushed.
“Whoo.” She fans her face, but her eyes are shining with something I haven’t seen before. “This really helped.”
“We’re just getting started.”
“And I already feel more confident. Thank you. I’m looking forward to my next lesson.”
I nod. “Me too.” And suddenly, I’m not ready for her to leave. “Come upstairs with me for a few minutes.”