Talking Dirty (4 page)

Nine

Link

I keep my eyes on Rocky during the warm-up. I’m half expecting her to run again. All I can do is hope I gave her enough incentive to want to see this class through. She needs this. She needs to feel the power she so desperately craves. And this class can give it to her.

I
can give it to her.

Her gaze locks onto mine as I step up front. I clear my throat, ready to begin. “What’s the first thing you do if someone approaches you in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable?” I ask the class.

“Yell,” several of the women say in unison.

I
grin, proud of these ladies and the fact that they retain the knowledge I offer them. “That’s right. Yell, scream, growl. Clap your hands, stomp your feet. I don’t care. Just make noise. The louder the better. Draw attention and let the asshole know you’re not an easy target. Hell, make him think you’re too damn crazy to mess with. But,” I pause, moving my gaze over each person, “if that doesn’t work, you fight. You fight with everything you have. If an attacker’s gone far enough to grab you, then he’s serious. You hurt him before he can hurt you.

“Your
goal is to get your attacker to the ground before he has a chance to get you. You’ll have about three to five seconds. Try to stay calm. Three seconds isn’t long, but it’s enough if you know what you’re doing. There are several places on a man that you want to focus on. A strike to the proper place can buy you time to get away.”

Joe moves in beside me and I point to him. “The eyes are a great place to attack because they’re sensitive. And if he can’t see you, chances are he isn’t going to follow when you run.

“Poke, jab, gouge, scratch the eyes. Do any damage you possibly can.”

“What if you can’t reach the eyes?” a woman asks. It’s her first time here, and I can tell she’s nervous. I smile, attempting to put her at ease. She drops her gaze, not returning the gesture. This simple act leads me to believe she may have already been attacked or possibly
been in an abusive relationship. I make a mental note before I answer her question.

She’s another reason why I teach these classes.

“That’s a good question. If your attacker is too tall or wearing some form of eye protection such as glasses, go for another body part.”

I turn to Joe and lift my foot as if I’m going to kick his knee. I slow just as my foot makes contact, landing the blow softly. He feigns injury, falling to the ground. “The knees are perfect for smaller women. They’re within reach and low enough that the attacker will most likely not be able to grab your foot when you strike. Plus, any angle of the knee will work. So if you go blank on the moves you learn here, which is likely during an attack, you can just kick away at the knee and cause injury.”

Joe stands, taking an attacker stance. I kick out again, this time applying a small amount of pressure on the side of his knee. It gives easily and he falls again.

“I suggest the side because it will knock him off balance quickly, giving you the opportunity to run.”

I glance over at Rocky, making sure she’s still with me before I move on. She’s watching with rapt interest. Like the thought of sending a man to the ground in pain is something she’d like to do.
Good
.

“Ears are another good place. Clap your palms flat against the eardrums as hard as you can. This will bring the strongest man to his knees. And this is where you can double up moves. Clap to the ears and a gouge to the eyes.” I act it out in slow motion on Joe who plays along, collapsing to his knees, and then to the floor.

“My personal favorite is the neck,” I continue. “The carotid artery and the jugular are both located in the side of the neck.” I run my finger up the length of Joe’s neck, showing the class exactly where to aim. “Hit quick and hit hard, with either the palm of your hand, or a karate chop motion. This is where the saying, ‘go for the jugular’ stems from. This vein returns blood from the head to the heart, so imagine what will happen if you cause damage to it.

“Also keep in mind, if it ever comes to it, severe injury to the jugular can bleed a man out within a minute or so. But we’re here to keep it from getting to that point.”

I lose my train of thought for a moment, surprised that I offered that information to the class like that. I’ve never done that before. Slipped like that. Some of these women are here to prevent an attack, but I know some of them are here to ensure it never happens again. I shouldn’t give information out like that. It was a reckless slip on my part. I don’t need to be responsible for the spilling of more blood.

“The nose,” I say, trying
to move on quickly, “is another point to concentrate on.” Joe steps into position and I raise my hand to his face. “Use the heel of your hand and hit the bottom of the nose in an upward motion.” We act it out twice, Joe going for an award in dramatics as he falls to the ground in imaginary agony.

“This hurts, trust me,” I say, chuck
ling as Joe writhes on the floor. “I’ve been hit several times in the nose and any blow stings. It also makes the eyes water, which will make it a little harder for an attacker to see you. Take the opening and run.”

I hold my hand out, helping Joe back to his feet. He grins at me, proud of himself
. “I think we covered the head, so onto the body. We already talked about the knees. The shins and thighs are good areas to kick as well, but watch with a thigh kick because your foot can be caught easily at that height.”

“What about a foot stomp?” one of the regulars asks. “You never really talk about that, but I see that all the time on shows,” she continues.

“Can I?” Joe asks.

I nod, gesturing for him to go right ahead. He served in the Marines. His fir
sthand knowledge beats mine any day.

“Stomping is okay,” he begins, “it can hurt, but it’s not often effective. Th
e guy could be wearing steel-toed shoes. But more commonly, when you’re being attacked, the guy’s moving around. Trying to stomp on his feet is like playing a game of
Whack-A-Mole
.”

Several of the women laugh at the visual. It’s unexpectedly nice to have this lighthearted feel to the class for once. We’re all still taking this seriously, but not ominously. I think Joe
might need to assist in more classes.

“If you can get a good stomp in,” Joe says, “then do it. But don’t waste precious time chasing after his feet. A kick to the nuts is way more effective and he can’t move those around as easily as he can his feet.”

The class laughs again and I look over at Rocky. She’s smiling, laughing along at her brother. I’ve only seen her look like this a couple of times. It nearly takes my breath away how a smile can transform her.

Her gaze shifts from Joe to me, and our eyes lock. She just busted me watching her, but I don’t look
away. I keep staring because there isn’t anything or anyone I’d rather look at.

“We should practice,” I say. “Partner up and run through strikes on all the vital points. Eyes, ears, nose, neck, groin, knees, and shins.”

“We didn’t go over the groin,” someone speaks up, drawing my attention from Rocky.

“Kick, hit, pull, twist,” I explain. “Trust me, any negative attention to a man’s groin area will work. This is a really good starter for doubling up. Kick him in the nuts, when he bends forward or drops to his knees, clap his ears, poke his eyes, or strike the neck. And then?”

“Run,” they answer in harmony. And if I’m not mistaken, I think Rocky chimed in as well.

Ten

Rocky

“You coming?” Joe asks as he shoulders his gym bag.

“Uh, not yet. Link’s going to give me
a ride.”

He raise
s a dark brow, casting a questioning look my way. I knew this was coming, but I’m no more ready to explain than I was a few days ago.

“What’s going on between you guys?” He takes a step closer to me, lowering his voice. “Are you dating?”

I huff out a laugh. Is oral sex dating these days? I’m a little rusty, so I can’t be sure. “No. We’re just…
friends
.”

“Friends,” he repeats. “You haven’t made new friends since high school.”

I arch a brow, mimicking him, and letting him know he’s becoming annoying. “What’s your point, Joe?”

He shrugs. “It’s good, right?”

I see now. My dumbass brother thinks because I actually have a friend that I’m magically getting past my rape. Everything is sunshine and unicorns because I don’t detest one guy.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I say trying to make him understand. One person isn’t going to make it go away.

And then it dawns on me.
One person isn’t going to make it go away
. I’ve been on this search for someone who can erase what Garrett did to me, but it’s not possible. There is never going to be a person who can make it un-happen. Nobody is going to take it away or make it better.

Doug couldn’t do it in high school.

All the random bar guys couldn’t do it.

And Link can’t do it either.

Nobody can.

It’s always going to be there.

Garrett
is always going to be there.

“I still think it’s go
od,” Joe says. “You need friends.” He touches the tips of his fingers to my elbow before he walks away. “See you Monday,” he calls over his shoulder as the door closes behind him.

Link pulls the office door closed and smiles. “Are you ready?”

Am I? I don’t know. I looked forward to this all day. The thought of another night like last night had me anxious all day long, anticipating what he had in mind. My thoughts were engulfed with the ecstasy I would find with him. However, my new discovery has my libido held hostage. All my thoughts are once again focused on Garrett Marshall.

“I never worked up that sweat,” I murmur.
I hear the sexual innuendo in my words, but my voice doesn’t reflect it. Link picks up on it immediately.

“Everything okay?”

That. That right there. The concerned look in his eyes. I hate it. I despise it. I loathe it with everything inside of me.

“No,” I utter. “Nothing’s okay.” I shake my head slowly as I try to gather my thoughts. “I hate living like this.”

“Like what?” He moves closer. I back away. He pauses, his head cocked to the side, confused.

“I’m scared. All the time. I don’t want to be like this. I want to do it.”

“Do what?” he asks. “I’m not following.”

Of course he’s not. How can he fo
llow when I don’t understand myself? Emotions are evil bastards. They twist you up, confuse you, knock you down, lift you high, and then drop you on your ass.

“Does you
r offer still stand?” I whisper.

His brows draw toget
her as he attempts to understand my erratic thoughts.

I lick my lips, trying to find the words. My hands fist at my sides.

“I want to do it. It’s the only way I’ll ever be free. I want to kill Garrett.”

Link stares at me as my words finally make sense.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head almost as if it pains him.

“Rocky,” he rasps, his eyes still shut tightly as if he can’t bear to look at me. “You just had the class. It probably brought up some buried feelings—”

“Are you saying no?”

He looks at me
now, scrutinizing every feature on my face. His eyes are the only part of his body that’s moving. He’s completely immobile. I don’t think he’s even breathing.

“Are you saying no?” I repeat, my voice cracking.

“I think you need to think about this.”

I laugh bitterly. “I can’t believe this. You were the one that came to me. You
offered.
Now you stand here acting like I’m being unreasonable.”

He rubs at his forehead forcefully. “It’s a life,” he states, his voice gentle and calm. It makes me
irrationally angry. “I don’t think it will hurt to think about it with a clear head.”

“Why would you do that?” I murmur. “Why would you offer to help me and then turn me down when I accept?”

“I didn’t know what I was offering before. I didn’t know the weight of taking a life. I didn’t comprehend how
hard
it would be to live with.”

I shake my head in frustration. This is the only way I’ll ever find freedom.
I feel like I’m coming to terms with it. He can’t make me feel like this. He can’t take it away. “But what? You know now?”

He doesn’t answer and my stomach churns.

Oh, my God
.

“Do you know now, Link?” I swallow tightly. How should I feel right now? What is an appropriate reaction? Should I be scared? Sickened? Because all I can muster is envy.

“Tell me,” I breathe.

He nods, one short jerk of his head. “I murdered one of the men that killed Livie.”