Chapter 96 Finding Strenght
AMELIA
The taxi dropped me two blocks from Elena's apartment. I paid, tipped, and made my way down the familiar sidewalk. Twelve steps to the corner. Left turn. Twenty-three steps to her building entrance.
I'd memorized the route weeks ago. During my first visit with Jeremy.
Now I was here alone. Without permission, and security. No one knew where I had gone.
The gun pressed against my ankle. Heavy and reassuring. The situation felt both correct and incorrect at the same time.
I knocked on apartment 3B.
Elena answered within seconds. "Amelia? What are you—" She pauses. "Did you come here by yourself?"
"Took a taxi", I smiled. "Surprise!"
"Holy shit! Get in here before someone sees you." She pulled me inside. Closed the door. "Does Jeremy know you're here?"
"Jeremy and I aren't exactly speaking right now."
"That bad, huh?"
"Worse." I found the couch by memory. Sat. "But that's not why I'm here. I need your help with something."
Elena sat beside me. "What kind of help?"
"I need to find a martial arts school. Something discreet, and where they wont ask many questions about why a blind girl wants to learn self-defence."
Elena was silent for a while. Then: "You are keen to learn martial arts."
"Yes."
"Amelia, what's going on?" She asked.
I took a breath. Decided honesty was safer than half-truths. "There was a party at Crimson. One of the girls who used to work there, Jade, has been watching me. She was the one who sent out the first time. She's also spreading rumours about me. And apparently someone's been following me. It was not Santoro's security people, but someone else.
"Following you? Like—stalking?"
"Yes, and it was very professional as well. We don't know who hired them or what they want." I leaned back. "And I'm tired of being helpless. Tired of waiting for others to protect me. I want to be able to defend myself. Actually defend myself, not just hope someone else shows up in time."
"So you want to learn martial arts."
"And if whoever's following me makes a move—" I smiled. Dark. Bitter. "I want to be ready. Want to send a message that I'm not easy prey. That Jade and whoever else wants to see me fail can fuck off."
"Jesus, Amelia", Elena's voice held shock. Concern. "This is—you're talking about killing someone."
"No. I'm talking about not being a victim." I turned toward her. "People want to see me ruined. Want to watch me fail. Want me gone so they can have what I have. And I'm not giving them the satisfaction."
Elena was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Okay. Alright. Let me—let me see what I can find."
She moved away. I heard her pick up her phone. Heard her typing. Searching. Calling.
"Hi, yeah, I'm looking for martial arts classes focused on self-defence. Do you have programs for—" Pause. "No, that won't work." Thanks anyway."
She made four more calls. Each one ending with rejection or referral to another place.
On the sixth call: "Really? You do? That's perfect. My friend is blind, so she'd need specialised instruction. Is that—" Pause. "Oh. I see. How much extra?"
A longer pause.
"Okay. Can we schedule a trial? See if it's a good fit before committing?" Another pause. "This Saturday at ten. Perfect. We'll be there. Thank you."
She hung up.
"Good news and bad news," Elena said. "I found a place. Small operation. Mixed martial arts with a self-defence focus. The instructor's worked with visually impaired students before. He's willing to do a trial session."
"That's the good news. What's the bad?"
"The bad news is cost. Because you're blind, you'd need one-on-one instruction. Modified techniques. Extra attention. He's charging double the normal rate."
My stomach sank. "How much?"
"Twelve hundred for registration. Then three hundred per month after that."
Twelve hundred. I had fifty-four hundred in my account. Minus twelve hundred would leave me with thirty-two hundred. Manageable. Tight, but manageable.
Except—
Except I'd just spent twelve hundred on the gun. Which meant I actually had forty-two hundred. Minus another twelve hundred would leave me with three thousand even.
Still doable. But cutting it closer than I liked.
"Can I pay in instalments?" I asked.
"I didn't ask. Want me to call back?"
"No. I'll—I'll figure it out." I stood. "Thank you for finding this. For helping. I know this seems crazy."
"It seems desperate." Elena touched my arm. "Amelia, are you sure about this? All of this? "The self-defence classes, the attitude about Jade—whatever's going on with Jeremy?"
"I'm sure I can't keep living the way I have been. Waiting. Hiding. Depending on others. "I found my cane. "I need to take control. Need to be strong. Need to prove—" I stopped. "Need to prove I'm worth more than what people think."
"You already are worth more."
"Then I need to believe it. And maybe learning to fight will help me do that."
Elena sighed. "Okay. Saturday at ten. I'll take you to the trial. We'll see how it goes. But Amelia..."
"Yeah?"
"Be careful. This path you're on—building walls, learning violence, pushing Jeremy away—it might protect you. But it might also isolate you. Make sure you know the difference."
I nodded. "I will. I promise."
But as I left Elena's apartment and caught another taxi back to the estate, I wasn't sure I believed my own promise.
Because right now, isolation felt safer than vulnerability. Walls felt stronger than trust. Violence felt more reliable than love.
And maybe that made me exactly what Jeremy feared I'd become.
Someone too damaged to let anyone close.
AMELIA - Later
I made it back to the estate without incident. Slipped through the gates while the guards were distracted. Into the east wing, to my room
But the question remained: where would I get twelve hundred dollars for registration?
I had it. Technically. But using it meant depleting my savings significantly. Meant having less cushion if something went wrong. Meant being more dependent on Jeremy's salary payments.
Which defeated the purpose of independence.
I sat on my bed. Pulled out my phone. Checked my bank balance.
$5,487.23
This is barely enough for my plan.
I could do this. Could pay for the registration. Could learn to fight. Could become someone who didn't need constant protection.
And if it meant being broke for a few months—so be it.
Better broke and strong than comfortable and helpless.
I transferred twelve hundred dollars from my account to Elena. Texted her: For the registration fee. Please pay it for me. I'll come Saturday.
Her response came quickly: Are you sure about this?
Yes.
Okay. I've got you. See you Saturday.
I put the phone away.
Done. Committed. No turning back now.
In three days, I'd start learning how to fight. How to defend myself. How to be dangerous instead of helpless.
And maybe—just maybe—I'd figure out how to survive in Jeremy's world without losing myself in the process.
Or maybe I'd become something darker. Harder. More like the people who'd hurt me than the person I used to be.
My mind drifted to my account balance again. It would be wise if I didn't touch it; leave it as a backup. If only I could sort the money out somewhere else.
A plan came to my mind, and I smirked. Yes! I found a way and I hope it works.