Chapter 30 Inner Demons
INNER DEMONS
She had this.
Deep breath in, let it out. Once more.
Close one eye, extend her arm out, aim, pull the trigger.
Sure, sounded easy enough.
Except every time that Clay or Ford shot at the target in Clay’s backyard, her body jolted, her knees slapping together. She was positive she’d have bruises to explain.
This wasn’t for her to feel safe but for Ford. But she understood it’d be smart to know.
“You’ve got it,” Ford said.
“What if I miss completely? There could be people back there in the apple trees.”
“You won’t miss the wall,” Clay said. “You’re aimed right at it. We don’t expect you to hit the target.”
There was a wall of wood that was easily twenty feet in width, ten feet in height with targets tacked on it. All she had to do was pull the trigger and at arm level she’d hit it in front of her.
Once again. She could do this.
She turned to look at Clay. His facial expressions were unforgiving and let on to nothing.
Ford, his were softer.
Concern but encouragement at the same time.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“You don’t have to announce when you’re firing,” he said.
Her finger pulled toward her. It was tighter than she thought. Or maybe she assumed it’d be so loose that a whisper could pull it.
She bent her finger fast, the gun went off in her hand, sent her a step back and had her ears ringing even though she had earplugs in.
She survived it, so she pulled it again and then a third time.
Her palm stung some, but that was all Ford loaded in the gun.
He took it out of her hand and put it down by his side.
“Did I hit anything?”
“The wall,” Clay said.
“That’s something at least.”
“I don’t think guns are your thing,” Ford said.
“I could have told you that,” she said dryly.
“Everyone in the family can fire them,” Clay said. “You can’t be on the farm and not know. Even Gale can do it.”
She didn’t think Clay was baiting her, but she didn’t want to be thought of as the only one who couldn’t do it.
“Let me try again,” she said, reaching her hand out.
“That a girl,” he said and loaded it again, then handed it over.
Clay rolled his eyes when Ford said that to her, but she’d caught the smirk between the two of them.
She lined the gun up again, fired four times and actually hit the edge of the target.
“That was better,” she said, handing the gun back and shaking her arms out. Her shoulders were tense, her back too. Heck, even her thigh muscles hurt.
“We are going to show you how to defend yourself,” he said.
“What?”
“You’re going to learn to fight back,” Clay said. “Everyone should fight back.”
“Not always,” she said quietly. This might release her inner demons and the last thing she wanted to do was come apart at the seams in front of Ford.
As a kid, she didn’t have to go as far as fighting back; just yelling or running away and not doing what was told of her resulted in a bigger beating.
With Oliver, for sure fighting back only riled him up.
He was bigger and meaner than her mother ever was. Her mother even kept the guys she dated in line... most times.
“You won’t feel that way again,” Ford said, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. “This is to fight to get away, not fight to purposely hurt someone. There is a difference.”
“If you say so.”
“Are you going to have a hard time doing it?” Clay asked. “Will it give you flashbacks or anything?”
It was the first Clay had asked her something like that.
A concerned question rather than an accusation.
She’d be honest. “I don’t know. I hope not.
There were so many times in my life I just wanted to fight back.
In my mind I was doing it, but my body turned and ran.
The two could never connect. I guess that is how I learned to talk my way out of things, or distract from them.
Make promises or suck up. Whatever got me out of a sticky situation. ”
She’d been doing that most of her adult life to just put one foot in front of the other.
“Self-preservation isn’t a bad thing,” Ford said. “But when you run, you always have a fear inside of you. Looking over your shoulder will consume you.” He raised his eyebrow, staring at her, silently questioning her.
“I don’t want that anymore.”
“That’s right,” he said. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Clay’s basement. He’s got a workout room and we are going to show you self-defense moves.”
“And how to use a knife,” Clay said.
“What? I know how to use one.”
“Not on someone,” Clay said and moved past them into the ranch house.
Ford threaded their fingers together and pulled her along. The thought of using a knife on skin made her want to vomit.
She could barely bring herself to do it, even when she knew she had to escape. The burning pain was a warning. Either endure this or face something worse. That was how she made it through… four cuts and a will to survive.
When she got to the basement, she saw boxing bags, weights, mats, a wall with knives sticking out of it as if he had target practice down here too.
Good lord, she didn’t want to learn to throw a knife.
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” he said in her ear.
“I hope not.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black Swiss Army knife. She recognized it easy enough.
“This is for you.” He showed her how to open it and the few tools on it. It was more about the blade and she got that. “Keep it on you. Slide it inside your pants and it won’t be seen.”
There was a metal bar on the side that allowed her to have the knife at her waist inside, the bar the color of denim to blend in, but her shirts would always cover it anyway.
“Thanks, but I’m not sure I could use it for anything other than cloth or something.”
“Small and swift,” Clay said. “That’s your advantage and you need to use any tool you can. Remember that. It’s you or them.”
“Clay’s right.” Ford reached for her arm and pulled her sleeve up. “You found the strength to do this.”
She closed her eyes, her tongue coming out to wet her dry lips. “I was almost chanting to myself to get it done.”
“Whatever does it, you need to pull inside yourself to make it happen,” Clay said.
She went to put the knife in her pocket, but Ford took it out of her hand and slid it inside her jeans the way he wanted her to wear it. “If you don’t put it there, do it in the bottom of your pants. Get into the habit of putting it on like you do socks and shoes daily.”
She just hoped she never needed it.
“Ford and I are going to show you some moves and then you can try them on us,” Clay said.
“You think I’m going to get away from you two?”
“I’d rather you came toward me,” he said softly, “but if you practice on us, you’ll be good against most men. The chances of someone being as big as us are slim.”
“Good point.”
She watched as the two brothers took turns throwing each other to the ground. She felt it had more to do with them wrestling and one upping the other rather than trying to show her anything.
At least it started out that way.
Maybe she should be upset over the violence, but that wasn’t the case.
These two guys never hurt each other, more like had this dance going where they were out maneuvering the other.
If she could learn to do a fraction of that, she’d never be afraid again.
No. That was wrong.
There would always be the frightened little girl inside of her. There would be no freedom for that person. Not when she’d been beaten down as much as she had.
The two brothers taught her how to jam her heel on an attacker’s toe, then an elbow to the gut and run.
She wasn’t so fond of the move where she should slam her head back against theirs. That would hurt, but she was almost positive she could fight back if she had to by the time they were done.
Who was she kidding? If she could have done it before, wouldn’t she have?
She would have left Oliver long before she had to.
“What’s going on in your head?” Ford asked her.
“Showing me this is great, but I’m not sure I could do it if it came down to it. If I have the ability, I would have used it before.”
“No,” Clay said. “You wouldn’t have because you didn’t have the tools to show you how to succeed. Now you do. You’re stronger and you're more confident.”
“Whoa, two nice things you said to me today. This must be a record.”
Clay’s lips twitched. He almost wanted to smile but stopped himself. “I don’t make a habit of it.”
“We’ve done a lot today,” Ford said. “Let’s go back to your place.”
“Good,” she said. “I need a hot shower. I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”
When they were outside and walking back to her cabin, he leaned down. “Me too, but don’t tell Clay that. I’ll deny it and call you a liar every day of the week.”
She laughed. “That’s horrible.”
“That’s what brothers do,” he said.
They got to her place, she unlocked the back door and went in for a change of clothing, then turned the shower on. When she got out, Ford went in next; then she came back into her room.
She paused over the comforter being off center. She was meticulous about her things and always had been. Never living alone made her more aware of someone touching anything of hers.
Had someone been in her cabin and in her room while she was gone?
She was overthinking it again. Ford probably sat on it while he waited for her. She pulled it tight so there were no wrinkles in it, then decided to get undressed, climb in and wait for him instead.
She’d never done that before. Waited naked in bed for her man.
She let out a soft giggle.
She’d never thought of someone as her man before either.
The bathroom door opened, and she heard his footsteps, just four. His head turned into the room and she gave him a little wave, letting the sheet slip down, her breasts bare for him.
“This is a pleasant surprise.” He lifted his shirt over his head. She never could figure out how he found shirts to even fit his chest and arms, but they always stretched off of him from being snug against his body.
She climbed out of the sheets and got on her knees.
When he bent over to drop his shorts, she moved to the side of the bed and sat on it, then curled her trigger finger toward him to get closer. She held back the wince that movement caused.
She had other thoughts in her brain than that.
Like the big dick in her view. “Come closer.” She ran her tongue over her lips. His eyes darkened with her involuntary movement.
She only knew what she wanted and didn’t want to be denied.
He didn’t hesitate to comply, the bed being the right height that she reached for his hips and yanked him forward, her mouth opening and surrounding his dick.
She pulled him in, then pushed him out, controlling the movement of his hips with her fingers spread on his outer thighs.
She was sucking and sliding him forward and back, then stopped with that, swirled her tongue around, lapping up every bit of flavor he had. The pebble of dew on his tip, yeah, she gobbled that up greedily.
He was moaning more than he’d ever done before, the sounds fueling her to go where she’d never gone with another person.
She never wanted to.
But Ford Ridgeway fed her a power within herself that she hadn’t known existed.
He made her believe she could do anything she put her mind to.
That she could conquer any fear and be worthy of someone to be in his life forever.
It was what she wanted.
Where she needed to be.
And with the newfound confidence—no, confidence he’d given her decades ago that had been silent but was ready to yell for freedom—she attacked his body with the goal of making him hers.
Her lips closed around him, her head bobbing, her fist around his shaft and stroking.
“Reenie,” he said. “I’m so close. You need to stop.”
“No. I want to do this.”
She moved faster but with a precision of getting the job done before he could make her stop.
He wouldn’t.
He’d never make her do anything she didn’t want to.
She knew that without a doubt.
And that knowledge was winning the race with her heart.
With her body.
In her soul.
She cupped his balls with her other hand while she pumped him, her palm twisting some, her lips just on his tip sucking the sticky dew trying to escape before the surge.
He came, and it was fast and hard and she was ready for it. She swallowed quickly, then did it a second time, continuing to stroke him dry, then sat back, her hand still moving as if on automatic while she watched his face.
His eyes were open. They were watching her, but his expression was drained.
As if everything he’d fought so hard to keep inside had lost the battle.
She knew that feeling well and when he picked her up and tossed her on her back, then settled between her legs to repay the favor, she knew this wasn’t a battle, but a war, and they’d find a way to win it together.