Page 32 of The Bodyguard

“But what if he was really big?” Jack lifted up his arms like a bear.

I squinted at him. “I don’t think you understand how jujitsu works.”

He squinted back.

“You don’t believe me?” I asked. “Do you realize how sexist that is?”

“It’s not sexist…” he protested. “It’s just… physics. How does somebody your size take down somebody my size?”

“That’s not physics,” I said. “That’s ignorance.”

“Show me,” he said.

“What?”

“Jujitsu me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

I sighed. “You want me to take you down? Right now?”

“I mean, not really. But I do think I’d sleep easier if I knew for a fact that you could.”

“You’re saying you want me to hurt you? For real? Because if I do what you’re suggesting, I’ll definitely knock the wind out of you—and possibly dislocate your shoulder, too.”

This was a genuinely bad idea.

But I guess Jack did want me to hurt him, because he grabbed my hand and dragged me out his back door, across the patio, to a patch of grass by the pool. “Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea,” I said, as he tugged me behind him.

“See how easy it is for me to manhandle you, though?” he called back.

And I guess that’s when I gave in. I was never a big fan of being underestimated. Especially by a guy who thought I was the cleaning lady.

He wanted me to hurt him?

Fine. I’d hurt him.

When we reached the grass, he let go of my hand and jogged off a little further. Then he U-turned and came back at me, launching into a run.

I guess we were doing this.

Sigh.

By this point, there was no decision to make. Once a six-foot-three guy starts running straight for you—there are no decisions left. You just do what you’re trained to do.

As soon as he reached me, I grabbed his left wrist with both hands, yanked it down, and rammed my hips into his. The trick here is to get a rolling motion. You’re pulling his arm and shoulders down while you’re shoving his lower half up—and then forcing a roll over the pommel of your butt.

It sounds more complex than it is.

To sum up: You tuck your head, and over he goes.

That’sphysics.

In less than a second, he was flat on his back.

Moaning.