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I don’t care if she’s angry with me or upset, I lean over and kiss her cheek before I tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear. I wish she really knew how much I love her, that she really,trulyunderstood.
"No matter what happens, Ollie, I need you to know that I love you. And I need you to trust me."
I reach out and cup her jaw in my hand, forcing her to meet my eyes. “That sounds like something I would say to you. Is there something you need to tell me?"
"No," she says, but she’s definitely lying.
"Renata…" I press, my voice low with warning.
She cuts me off, her tone firm. "What did I just tell you? I love you, and you need to trust me. Can you do that or not?"
There’s a determination in her voice that gives me pause. I frown as she continues.
“You’re not the only one here, Ollie. I had a revelation overnight. I know we’ve fought. I’ve struggled with who you are, with who I am. But there’s nobody else I’d rather be with. So please, Ollie. Give me this." Her voice drops to a whisper, her eyes pleading.
I think silently for a moment. I know I love her. I love her like a man starving to death loves his next meal, like a drowning man loves air.I love her.Of course I do. I’d give my own life for this woman. I brush my thumb along her cheek, tracing the scar that marks her skin. Some might think I’m crazy, but I find it beautiful—unique. It defines who she is. I’ve never known a more beautiful woman in my life. It’s like that scar is the one flaw that sets her apart from all the rest, making her one of a kind.
"I love you. I trust you," I tell her, my voice steady.
She exhales slowly, then whispers, "Give me a weapon, please.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Renata
I wishhe had more time to show me how to really use it, but we’ll have to make do. I can tell he’s reserved, but he’s trying, and God, if that doesn’t mean fucking everything to me right now.
Maybe loving someone doesn’t mean perfection or never failing. Maybe it means showing up. Maybe it means learning, time and time again, how to keep going despite even really knowing the steps to take or the moves to make. Maybe loving someone means not giving up, regardless of the odds you face together.
Thankfully, Ollie nods. He pushes out of bed and walks to the dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer. When I see what he’s offering, I gasp but quickly stifle it.Yes.Now we’re playing with the big guns.
"Take this," he says, handing me a compact, handheld canister that’s about the size of a tube of lipstick. “There’s a nozzle and safety cap to prevent accidental discharge. You hold it firmly in your hand with your thumb on the safety, point the nozzledirectly at your attacker’s face, and aim for the eyes. A single burst should be enough to disable. As soon as you pull it, stepbackso you don’t inhale the air around it.”
“What will it do?”
“It’ll cause temporary blindness, difficulty breathing, and intense burning, giving you enough time to get away.”
His voice is steady, but I can see the tension in his eyes as he watches me.
I take the bottle, my hand trembling slightly as I place it on the table beside me. “Thank you.”
"If you ever need to incapacitate a man, go for the balls," Ollie says, his tone deadly serious.
"Seriously?" I ask, my eyebrows raised in disbelief.
"Seriously," he repeats. "A hard strike with two fingers, a kick—it doesn’t take much. Just don’t hesitate. That’s the key. You’ll only have seconds to act, but that’s all you’ll need to get away.” He shakes his head. “Swear to fuck, my balls are aching just from the thought of it.”
I snort and shake my head. This is an easy one.
Ollie continues. “If he’s standing close to you, balance your stance. The knee strike is one of the most effective ways. Aim for the center of the groin, be quick and forceful, and drive your knee upward. This is something you can do if your attacker is directly in front of you or you’re being held or grabbed. If there’s more distance, you can aim for a front kick or even pick something up and whack him with it, but make sure your aim is solid.”
“Okay, alright, I’ve got it.” I nod, my mouth dry. I have a sudden, sharp headache I know is only stress, but I still feel nauseous.
I nod, trying to absorb everything he’s telling me.
“After you hit someone’s nuts, he’ll double over. It could also make him disorientated or nauseous, but it’s a rare guy who will be able to walk for long if you strike him where it hurts.”
I nod, feeling a bit more prepared, when he reaches into the drawer again and pulls out a small, slender knife.
