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“Why wouldn’t he? This job means good money, respect, and all the free pussy you could ever ask for. And it’s supposed to be mine.”
“There’s plenty of it all to go around,” he said quietly. “We’d better focus on those accounts, though, unless you want a different scenario to play out.”
Tre nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But brother or not, if Devon tries to take even a little of what’s mine, he won’t live to regret it.”
***
Liv
Liv had been uneasy all day, like someone had been watching her at work. She could’ve gone to Will’s construction site as she had been for more than a week, but instead she called Iz and met her for a sparring session. People packed the gym this time of day and all the other people gave her at least the illusion of safety.
Izzy linked arms with her as they walked into the gym. “I’m glad you called me. I like sparring with you, Nugget, even if you do still whine sometimes about the shiner I gave you once.”
Though it was true the black eye was still an occasional sore spot, at least practicing self-defense gave her a proactive thing to do. Her resolution about making good choices wasn’t bullshit. She would help herself by taking these lessons seriously, like she should have done from the start.
God knows she was flailing in every other part in her life. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw Devon. She’d lost him.
Then there was Jonathan. She was falling hard for the guy, and she was pretty sure he felt the same. Still, she felt as though she could lose him any second. What if his drug lord boss kept him in a fight too long? Or what if some junkie came at him with a gun? And she refused to even think about the possibility of Sucre putting his hands on him again.
Jonathan was so big and strong and capable, but even he had been a victim. Without training, what chance did she have?
She rubbed at her sternum. “I kind of hoped we could work on grappling holds and escape techniques.”
Izzy stopped a few feet into the building and cocked her head to the left. “Is there something you want to tell me about?”
Not even a little. “You wanted me to learn how to defend myself, right? I don’t need offensive techniques. I don’t even really need to deflect a punch, Iz. If anyone were to come at me, they’d grab me, right? What I need is to be able to get away. I liked the stuff where you showed me how to escape a hold from behind. I want to go over it again, and anything else you think would be good.”
Iz rubbed her hands together briskly as they faced off on the mat. “I’m not going to go easy on you.”
“You wouldn’t be helping me if you did.”
Over and over, they ran through the drills. The first half hour they did only attacks from behind. They must have done it twenty times. When the arm came around Liv’s neck, she’d tuck her chin and push out her shoulder, step out and duck under it. Tuck. Push. Step. Duck.
Tuck. Push. Step. Duck.
Determined to get it right, she pushed herself.
Soon, her muscles responded without thought.
Tuck. Push. Step. Duck.
She pulled the elastic band from her hair to reform her ponytail. The hair framing her face and neck was damp with sweat. “What do I do once I get out of the hold?”
“Hurt him. Then run.”
“Like, kick him in the junk?”
Izzy shook her head. “It’s not always as easy as it sounds. I’d jab him in the throat if you can. Don’t make a fist. Keep your fingers extended.” Her sister gave a quick demonstration, then gave her a chance to try it herself. “If you have something sharp, go for an eye, but you can’t be squeamish. What was it Carol liked to say? Go big or go home.”
The idea of popping someone’s eye turned her stomach. She frowned. “I don’t know if I could pop somebody’s eye.”
“Then punch him in the ear or slam the heel of your hand up into his nose. Either one will hurt like a motherfucker. Strike hard, then run fast.”
They never did get around to front-facing grappling attacks, but she felt a lot more confident walking out than she did walking in. “You have time for dinner with your now-badass little sister? My treat.”
“As long as it’s not Chipotle.”
“Spoilsport.”
