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I slipped my hand inside his, bracing for a hard squeeze. “I’m Charlotte. This is Mallory.”
TJ shook my hand gently and turned to do the same to Mallory. She shook his hand like a robot, still speechless. “Nice to meet you both. What are you ladies here for?”
“I saw a flyer about a self-defense class.”
TJ nodded. “You’re right on time. Follow me.”
Mallory grasped my arm as we followed behind him. “Please tell me he’s the instructor.”
I stifled a giggle. “I can’t believe someone was able to render you speechless.”
“I feel as if I’ve seen a unicorn. A big, sexy, muscular, tattooed unicorn. Who looks like that? Seriously. His six-pack has a six-pack! I bet his dick has a six-pack, too!”
The laugh I’d been suppressing burst from my throat.
TJ turned around with a curious smile. “What’s so funny?”
Mallory’s nails dug into my forearm. “Nothing, sir. Sorry.”
“Sir? I like the sound of that.” He winked and gestured to the three women standing in the mirrored corner of the gym. “Are you ready to begin?”
They nodded eagerly, looking just as awed by him as Mallory and I probably looked. The two younger women looked like sisters in their early twenties. The older woman looked to be their mother. Unlike the other gym members, they didn’t have exceptional muscles nor did they look tough or menacing. They looked like regular women, just like me and Mallory.
“You can leave your coats and purses on the bench in the corner,” he instructed. “Spread out, and we’ll get started.”
For the next hour, TJ led us through a series of maneuvers. He took turns working with each of us, explicitly explaining what he was going to do before he did it. The moves started out simple. How to jab someone in the throat. How to break free from someone’s grip on your arm. How to use your attacker’s weight to your advantage. Everything led to the final maneuver, when we were taught how to flip an attacker over our shoulders and slam him onto the ground. That move was my favorite.
At what I thought was the end of the session, TJ instructed us to sit in a circle with him. We wiped our sweat with the free towels he’d provided and gulped from our water bottles while we caught our breaths.
“I always start my class with the physical moves. That’s what everyone expects out of a self-defense class. We all have fun slamming people onto the ground, don’t we?”
We nodded in agreement.
“But I am going to teach you something that will help you more than any of the exercises we just did. Defense is only half of the lesson. You need to learn how to play offense, too.” His eyes narrowed, and he pointed his index finger around our circle. “Each one of you has inner strength. You might not know it. You might not believe me right now. But it’s there. You need to remember this always. Your attacker is going to be strong. He, or she, is going to have confidence. Predators see victims as weak. They believe they can take advantage of you. Don’t let anyone think they can take advantage of you. Don’t give them a reason to think you are weak.”
Instantly, the image of my father and I tied to the oven in our Florida bakery flashed through my mind. As if I was looking in on myself from the outside, I saw a scared, vulnerable girl.
“What are you thinking about right now?” TJ was looking directly at me.
“Huh? I, uh … nothing. I was just listening.”
TJ gave me a knowing smile. “Were you ever in a situation where you felt weak?”
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat as I nodded. “Yes. Once.”
“Will that situation ever happen again, after today?”
“I hope not.”
“Hope isn’t enough, Charlotte. You need to believe that it won’t happen because you won’t let it happen. You need to believe in yourself. Do you understand?”
Again, I nodded. But how?
TJ pointed to the mother of the two girls sitting beside Mallory. “Jessica, would you like to share your story with our new classmates?”
“Of course.” Jessica turned to face us. “Ten years ago, I worked in Manhattan. I had to take the subway to and from my job five days a week. I was a secretary for a law firm. I always dressed professionally. Heels, skirts, blouses. Anyway, some nights I stayed late and had to take the subway during the less-crowded hours.” She laughed once. “Sounds nice, right? Most people would love an empty subway car to themselves.”
My stomach twisted as I anticipated where this story was headed.
