Page 4

FOUR

ZEKE

“WE’RE IN HERE today?” Savannah’s pretty eyes bounce around the arena as we step inside.

“Not quite.” I enter the large space, sticking by the wall to avoid the course set up in the center. “We’re going to the sparring room.”

I watch her expression as I reveal our destination, looking for any sign of discomfort with my plan. To my surprise, Savannah smiles.

“Sparring, huh?” She seems almost amused. “You know I’m not trying to be a cage fighter, right?”

A laugh jumps out of me and it’s just as unexpected as her reaction to this morning’s activity.

Savannah laughs along with me. “The thought is pretty funny.” Her eyes drop, looking over her outfit. For the second day in a row, she’s wearing leggings and a slouchy shirt. Today’s version is a pale turquoise color that sets off the peachy pinkness of her skin. “At least I’m a little better dressed for it than I normally would be.”

“That’s good, because I don’t know how much you’d enjoy doing what you’re about to do in a dress.” I pause, thinking on it for a second. “But you should probably practice all the moves I teach you in a dress since that’s what you normally wear.”

“I like dresses.” She almost sounds defensive. “They make me feel pretty.”

I don’t think as I open my mouth. “You are pretty.”

The words hang in the air between us, heavy and unavoidable. They came out all on their own. A simple observation of the truth as I see it. But I know how they come across. What Savannah might believe is behind them.

It’s too late to take them back and too late to amend the statement. Trying to explain it will only make things worse, so I simply go silent, hoping I haven’t ruined everything.

I pull the door to the sparring room a little more forcefully than I need to, letting its momentum guide me to the side so Savannah can go in before me. She grips the bag hooked over her shoulder with both hands as she steps into the mirrored room and takes it in. The floors are covered in thick padded rubber and a stack of mats line the back wall. The smell of the cleaner we scrub them down with after we’re done lingers in the air, mingling with the stale scent of sweat. It’s not the kind of place Savannah should be, but it’s a necessary evil.

“Today I want you to get familiar with how an attack feels.”

Her eyes widen, dark lashes nearly reaching her eyebrows as a pink flush creeps across her skin. “You’re going to attack me?” she squeaks.

I shake my head, wanting to calm her fears. “No.” I brace for her panic. “You’re going to attack me.”

This exercise has two benefits. It will get Savannah used to physical confrontation, and it will put her in the position of power. She’ll be the one to initiate each grapple, and the one to decide when we’re done.

If she only comes at me once, so be it.

Savannah continues to stare at me, that stricken look on her face. “You want me…” She swallows, the delicate line of her throat working the gulp down. “… to attack you?”

“I do.” I cross both arms over my chest as her eyes move down my large frame. “I’m going to show you how I would get free. We’ll practice each maneuver I use, and, when you’re ready, I’ll be the one attacking you.”

Another swallow, this one loud enough I can hear it. “Oh.” She starts blinking faster, shifting on her feet, and I can almost feel the tension oozing from her small body.

“Take a breath, Savannah.” I keep my voice calm. Collected. Even though seeing her like this takes me back to a time in my life I’ve worked hard to compartmentalize.

I can’t forget it. That would be wrong. So I keep it packed away. High on a shelf where I don’t have to look at it every day. Or even every month.

But moments like this knock it right at my feet, spilling the contents everywhere. Forcing me to face them.

“I’m fine,” she squeaks. After pausing to take a breath, eyes closing with the motion, she tries again. “I’m fine. Really.”

I don’t like the wobble in her voice and I don’t like what she just claimed. Not because it’s a lie—which it is—but because she thinks she has to feed it to me.

“You don’t have to be fine, Savannah.” I plan to stop there, but accidentally offer up a peek at the truth I hide. “Most of us aren’t.”

Her eyes snap to my face, sweet and guileless, and for a second I think she’s going to ask me a question I won’t answer. Instead, as she is in the habit of doing, Savannah surprises me.

Squaring her shoulders, she lifts her chin, looking as determined as I’ve ever seen her. “Okay. Tell me what to do.”

I came into this… concerned.

In the year she’s been here, Savannah’s been more of a shadow than I could ever claim to be. Quiet. Hidden. Easy to look past.

For most people. I’m not most people.

From the second I first saw her, the hollow look in her eyes made it impossible for me to see anything else in the room when she was there. The fear she carried haunted me as much as the ghost I’ve carried for over a decade.

But the woman standing tall in front of me now doesn’t look afraid. She looks fierce.

Defiant.

And it renders me speechless. “Uhh.” Now I’m the one swallowing hard, trying to collect my thoughts in the face of this new development.

I like knowing how shit is going to unfold, and this is not what I was expecting. At all.

“Wait.” Savannah walks past me, going to where she left her bag in the corner. Crouching down, she digs through it before pulling out a band. As she stands, she begins to smooth the curled strands of her dark hair away from her face. After twisting it into a ponytail at the back of her head, she gives me a smile. “Okay. Ready.”

I turn to the mats I’ve already spread across the floor in preparation for this morning. “Okay.” I slowly walk to the center of them, fighting back nerves I haven’t felt in years as I face her. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Savannah looks me over, a flicker of hesitation passing across her features. “You just want me to attack you?”

I give her a single nod. “Yup.”

“But you’re going to see me coming.” She licks her full lips before pressing them together. “Do people usually see their attacker coming?”

“I do.” I’m not trying to be cocky. It’s simply a fact. “And I’m going to teach you how to see them coming too.”

She rubs both palms down her hips, wiping them against her leggings. “That would be nice.” Her eyes drift to the trio of windows looking out into the wooded area surrounding the compound. Savannah’s brows pinch, eyes squinting as she leans closer.

I turn to see what has her attention. I’ve barely got my back to her before I hear her sneakers against the mat behind me. A second later she hits my back full force, arms looping around my neck. Using the hold for leverage, Savannah hoists herself onto my back, legs latching around my waist as she locks my head into a remarkably tight hold.

“I’m sorry.” She sounds genuinely remorseful. “I couldn’t do it with you looking at me.”

I crack a smile, amused at her sneaky tactics. “Don’t apologize. It was a smart move.”

“I don’t know how smart it was.” She sounds breathless as she clings to me.

“It’s smart if it works.” I pause, trying to figure out how I’m going to get out of this without dropping her straight down onto the mat. Savannah doesn’t like the feeling of falling, so I’ve got to come up with an alternative that will keep her descent to a minimum. “I’m gonna be honest with you. I wasn’t expecting this to be your first move.”

“This is possibly my only move, so you might want to get used to it.” She pauses, her hold on my neck loosening a little. “And I’m not sure how I’m going to pull that whole diversion thing off next time.”

“That is kind of a one and done sort of thing.” I eye the stack of mats and head toward it, Savannah’s slight weight barely slowing me down. “But you won’t have to trick most people more than once.” I put my back to the mats then tuck my chin, protecting my airway in case Savannah doesn’t react the way I’m expecting.

Again.

Carefully, I reach over my head, gripping her shoulders in a way that puts my thumbs right in her armpits.

Then I give her a gentle but firm jab in each one.

Finally, she does what I anticipate. Letting out a squeal, she releases me and drops to the stack of mats. The pile is a few feet high so she doesn’t fall far, but I still turn to make sure she’s okay.

Savannah stares up at me, mouth hanging open, brows slashed above her eyes, looking fully affronted. “You just tickled me.”

“There’s no rules when it comes to what you can do to save your own life, Savannah.” I offer her a hand. “You do whatever it takes to get out alive.”

Her accusing glare drops to my extended hand. She hesitates for a split second, but then slips her small palm in mine. I keep my grip only as tight as I need to help her up. Her bones seem so fragile. So breakable.

Like I thought she was.

“So are you suggesting I tickle my way out of danger?”

She settles onto her feet but doesn’t let me go. The soft feel of her skin against mine keeps me from realizing she’s teasing me, so I answer honestly. “If it’s your best option, yes.” Her hand falls from mine, removing the distraction making me even denser than normal and I finally notice the slight curve of her lips. “You were joking.”

“I was trying to joke.” She inhales, brows climbing. “But I guess this really isn’t a funny situation is it?”

She thinks I’m judging her for how she’s processing what happened to her. How she’s dealing with the fallout.

I can’t allow her to believe I would ever judge her.

“This situation is whatever you want it to be.” I always do my best to keep these sessions as impersonal as I can. All that matters is helping them recover and move forward. But if Savannah is going to need humor to get through this, there’s something she should know about me. “But humor isn’t one of my strong suits.” I don’t joke. I don’t tease. Life is serious. The minute you forget that, bad things can happen.

“You don’t say,” she says, that hint of a smile peeking out even more.

“Funny.” I find myself smiling back at her and quickly flatten it out. Redirecting her focus, I point to the mats at the center of the room. “Want to go again?”

She shifts on her feet, teeth pinching her lower lip. “I guess.”

I step onto the cushioned surface and spread my arms wide. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Again, she wipes both hands down her pants and a stab of guilt pinches my gut. She’s nervous, and it’s because of me.

But there’s something else jabbing me along with the guilt. A need I haven’t felt in years.

I don’t want her to be afraid of me. I want her to see me as something other than what I’ve become. I don’t know why, but it’s there.

And it’s irritating.

Savannah’s skin pales and she suddenly straightens, all her attention on the door at my back. “I can explain.”

I spin, ready to defend her actions against whoever’s interrupted our session.

But there’s no one there. The door is still closed, the room outside still dark through the narrow window cut into the thick steel.

That tricky little?—

Savannah’s slight weight hits my back again, her slim arms gripping my neck tight. This time they’re tucked closer to her body, protecting the vulnerable area I exploited last round. Her laugh is triumphant in my ear as she gloats. “Guess it’ll work twice after all.”