8. Liar #2
“Right? I’ve got moves you’ve never seen before.”
“And never will see again. You’re one in a million.” I smiled at him, so close to his heart, and felt content, safe, like life stretched out into the horizon further than the eye could see.
He winked at me and then the moment was over, I was tucked into the passenger seat of his truck, and he was heading back to the house. He came back with a throw from the couch, a pillow from the closet, and my crutches.
The truck roared to life and we were on our way.
After eating Betty’s excellent fried raviolis with a gorgeous salad, we headed inside the old gym, me on my crutches, Nix letting me be as slow as I needed to be.
I’d expected it to be me, Nix, and Henry, but somehow word had spread, and the old music hall that had been used as a secondary gym for the last twenty years had at least a dozen people, including a good number of the upright citizens that Nix’s mother would no doubt approve of, including Christina.
Nix got me a chair next to Henry and then he started a spiel that was incredibly well-rehearsed.
He didn’t waste time setting things up, just went right into the basics of self-defense, like awareness of your surroundings, the importance of preparedness, and how to cope with a direct assault you can’t get out of.
“You will be hurt less if you go soft, don’t resist, try to zone out,” he said, seriously. “It could be the difference between survival and death.”
“We’re supposed to just accept abuse?” I asked, feeling betrayed.
He met my eyes and his slight frown was echoed in the concerned depths of those blue eyes.
“During an attack, the priority is survival. Afterwards, you rally and prosecute to the fullest extent of the law, but I want you to survive, to escape, to be able to put the past behind you and move on with as little damage as possible.”
“Just move on?” I couldn’t even walk, how was I supposed to move on?
Christina gave me a glare. “If you can’t understand what he’s saying, maybe you shouldn’t be here. If you’re determined to cling to your victim mentality, then no one can help you.”
“That’s not true,” Nix said easily. “There are a lot of places to go for help, and just because you’ve been hurt before doesn’t mean you will in the future, or that you can’t become strong enough to resist evil.
The truth is, bad things happen to everyone.
The real strength comes from rising after you’ve been beaten and living your best life in spite of it.
Still, it’s nice to win when you’re attacked, so let’s do some basic escape moves. Get a partner and find some space.”
Christina weaseled next to him. “I can be your partner,” she breathed, pressing her chest against his arm.
He smiled at her. “Actually, I’m going to be helping out everyone, but Henry needs a partner. Henry, this is Christina. This is the hold. Now, you’re going to escape the hold.”
I watched and practiced on myself, trying to get the grabbing and the escaping right. It was kind of confidence boosting to have something specific to know that you could do.
“All right. Good work, everyone. Next class will be about how to take down an opponent when you’re attacked. Next week, same time. All right. We’re done here.” He walked over to me and sat down in the chair Henry had been sitting in. “Well, Kitten? Are you glad you came?”
“I want to put my head on your shoulder.”
He looked at his shoulder and rolled it a few times. “That’s right, because I left the pillow in the truck. Poor Kitten, having to settle for my shoulders instead of soft, fluffy down. Do you want to walk out, or do you want me to carry you?”
I smiled and got up, crutches under my arms. “I’m good. You can go chat with the ladies while I make my slow way out.”
“Not a chance are you leaving me alone with them,” he hissed, eyes widening in alarm. “Did you see that female, using a man’s unnatural fixation to asphyxiate me?”
I blinked at him. “Oh dear. Do I need to use my crutches to protect you?”
“Yes,” he said, slipping around to my other side so he could open the door for me.
Outside, the breeze was chilly, but I was wearing my favorite yellow cardigan.
“Why do you like yellow?” he asked as we walked slowly down to his truck.
“It’s happy.”
“You’re already happy. You don’t need yellow. That first day in philosophy, you in that smiley face t-shirt was almost painful.”
“You should have told me so I could have taken it off.” I wiggled my brows at him.
“Hey now Kitten, don’t you start flirting with me or I’ll be forced to reciprocate.”
We reached the truck and he helped me in, putting my crutches in the back. Christina came up to him, slipping her arm in his, so I got to see her brilliant smile and fabulously batting lashes. I could also hear her because the window was rolled down.
“That’s so chivalrous of you to help poor Sunshine, but you shouldn’t let her spoil all the fun you could be having at college.”
“If I wanted to have fun, college isn’t where I’d be,” he said, moving around her, trying to get to his side, but she kept getting in front of him.
“I’m sure that you’re the kind of man who can multitask,” she said, smoothing her hands up his chest.
He stiffened up then he shoved her down and landed on top of her right before I heard a distant pop. Pop, pop! Was that a gun?
I shoved open his door and threw the blanket out over the side of the door and them so they weren’t visible to whoever was shooting. Nix pushed Christina inside the cab in front of him, and she landed on me, wearing Beastie’s favorite perfume.
Nix slammed the door and started the truck, while shots kept going off.
“Are you bleeding?” Christina shrieked, and grabbed Nix, where blood was streaming down his arm.
He winced and then ducked down, pushing her head down with him. “Stay down, if you would be so kind,” he growled. The tone did not go with the polite words.
I slid down to the floor, breathing hard and trying to think of something I could do. I looked down at my phone and then texted Daniel.
someone’s shooting at us. I hit send, but it didn’t deliver.
I smacked it on the seat a few times, but it wasn’t working.
Michael Dupre had taken my phone, sent it back, and had no doubt messed with it.
I opened the door a crack and tossed out my phone.
The truck hit a bump and I almost followed the phone out, but managed to catch myself in time and pull myself back inside.
“Where do you live, Miss Smallfield?” Nix growled, that same hard voice not matching the well-mannered words.
She gave her address from her place hunched down on the seat, her feet in my face. Happily, she was too distracted to kick me intentionally.
It took five minutes to drive her there, and then he opened his door and pulled her out after him.
He bowed and left her there, before climbing back in and turning the truck around on her lawn.
I looked back to see the look of shock on her face along with the thick tread marks Nix had left behind in the otherwise immaculate grass.
I buckled my seatbelt and then turned to see the damage on his right arm, touching him carefully.
“Here’s the thing, Kitten,” he said almost sociably. “I don’t like getting shot.”
A strangled laugh escaped my throat before I throttled it. “I can’t imagine why. It’s so refreshing.”
“Sadly, this town isn’t living up to its hype as a relaxing getaway.
I have a deal for you, and I strongly encourage you to think about it.
Come with me to Las Vegas, where I can protect you, and not get shot in the meantime.
Also, stay with me for six months so I don’t have to talk to any more Christina’s. ”
I stared at him, my fingertips stained red from the blood still running down his arm and dripping on the worn leather upholstery. “Sorry?”
He shot me a wry look. “It doesn’t sound like much of a deal, does it? What do you want?”
“I don’t date,” I said, but I was so disoriented. How could he ask me to date him now, careening around at night in a truck with people shooting at us?
“I get that. I don’t either. So, we can not date together. Or, we could get married and then we definitely wouldn’t be not dating or dating.”
I picked at the buttons on my sweater. “Oh, you must be going into shock from the bullet. We need to get to the hospital.”
“I’m only grazed. I might need a few stitches, but there isn’t a bullet that needs to get out. Your blanket work was genius. I am good with marrying a woman like you, who can keep her head in a gunfight.”
“I think for it to be called a gunfight, there have to be two guns. The ones in your arms, though impressive, don’t count.”
He sighed heavily. “Humor aside, Sunshine, the first rule of self-defense, is to know the danger. He’s attacked twice, once going for you, once for me to get me out of the way so he can get to you.
You dragged me into this when you parked in front of my house screaming about your boyfriend.
I don’t mind that, unless you don’t let me actually protect you, which I can’t do here.
So there it is. If you choose to stay here, you’re putting yourself, your aunt, and me in danger, because I’m not going to turn my back on you when I know that you’re at risk. It would be bad for my ego.”
I tugged on my cardigan’s button so hard that it came off in my hand. I stared at the small white thing. “My button came off.”
He covered my hand with his, the arm that had been hit with a bullet.
His eyes were intent, beautiful, burning.
“We can take precautions, be well-armed, but as you noted, Dupre is a psychopath. You can’t have a nice normal college life with him around.
Come with me. Disappear in Las Vegas as my girlfriend, or wife, or whatever you want to be for six months or until the threat is over. ”