Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Seven


All the way home in the Uber, I was in a daze. I didn’t even remember to clutch my mace inside my purse.

Today’s lesson had been...hard, to put it mildly.

Having his arms around me, his scent filling my head, was sheer torture.

His warmth taunted me with reminders of what I couldn’t have.

Mason didn’t want me.

It cut through me like a hot blade.

Even though I had known going into this; had harbored no thoughts of a relationship myself, and he had told me point blank, he didn’t want a girlfriend.

But now that I had actually known what it was like to kiss him, to be held by him and moved by him and loved by him...even if it was just by his body, and not his heart, I knew I couldn’t go back to how it was before.

Now, on the other side of it all, I saw things with painful clarity.

I hadn’t listened to Lucky’s advice at all.

Somewhere along the way, I had gone and done exactly what I wasn’t supposed to, and had fallen in love with Mason Blacksteele.

###

I got into my apartment building to once again find old Harris shuffling by.

He took one look at my face and immediately lost his sunny smile. “Aww, what’s wrong, Miss Annie?” He asked me kindly.

I didn’t even know why, but suddenly I was throwing myself into his arms and sobbing my eyes out, much to the old man’s surprise.

He patted my back, though, and proceeded to say comforting things like “There, there, dear”, and, “Aww, things can’t be all that bad now, can they, sugar?”, whilst I bawled my eyes out into his sweater.

“He doesn’t need me anymore!” I heard myself sob incoherently at one point.

It didn’t make sense; I hadn’t even realized it mattered to me until this very moment, but now it was the only thing inside my heart, and it was singing a tragic opera full of heartbreak throughout my entire being.

He didn’t love me. He didn’t need me.

He didn’t love me. He didn’t need me.

It wouldn’t stop ringing through my head.

###

For the next few weeks, I felt like a numb clone of myself. I was going through the motions of my day on autopilot.

I had been like this before, after the bank robbery. I hadn’t wanted to ever come back here; to this awful, blurry place of despair.

Penelope noticed, she always noticed, but she let it drop after she teasingly asked if there was trouble in paradise between me and my “personal trainer boyfriend”, and she saw the corresponding dark look upon my face.

Poor Penny. She tried.

But I just didn’t let people get too close, not ever. It wasn’t even that I myself had ever been hurt that badly; I never let anyone get close enough, after all. I had seen enough of the world to know what a dark and dangerous place it was.

I had watched the fools all rush in, and then inevitably get burned. They made fools of themselves. The only real way to protect yourself, as far as I could see, was to abstain from living life as much as possible.

###

“First, let’s go through the two most common types of scenarios where you might get attacked and need to break free.”

I nodded, even though I was only half-listening. I was a little distracted by the fact that he hadn’t called or texted. All week.

“So first, I’m gonna put you in a choke-hold.” He said to me, as casually as one might suggest going to a movie.

I blanched, suitably jarred from my own thoughts of self-pity.

He chuckled at my expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

I wasn’t entirely sure about it, but I gave him permission to place his hands around my neck.

The sensation of his long, powerful fingers wrapping around my neck made me feel lightheaded with both a sense of general overwhelm and also a certain thrill of lust.

Did that make me a bad person?

While he hadn’t told me to move yet, I had instinctively wrapped my hands around his wrists.

“Sorry.” I immediately said.

“That’s okay. That’s a perfectly natural response; grabbing my arms. And it’s exactly what I need you to do to break free of this hold.

“You need to act quickly; jerk down on my wrists, as hard as you can, and at the same time as you drag me down towards you, bring your knee up into my chest as hard as you can. This will theoretically drive the wind from my body and break my hold so that you can-”

“Taser you in the crotch?!” I suggested in a sweet voice.

Dangerously sweet.

He barked a laugh and dropped his hands from around my throat.

“No.” He countered gently, eying me with wry amusement. “This is the part where you run away and call 911.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Alright, so let’s try again, shall we? And then we can switch to the second attack style, which is infinitely more common. So I’m going to grab your throat again...”

“Okay.” I lifted up my chin, unafraid.

He slowly reached out and curled those long, strong fingers around my neck.

I brought my hands slicing down onto his wrists and pulled his torso down to me whilst lifting my knee up into his chest with aggressive force.

He grunted and released me.

“Oh! Sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He straightened up, rubbing his sternum. “Good job, lots of energy. So in your homework exercises, I want you to do at least a 50 rep of knee lifts, just like that one, both sides, so that you get used to the movement and build up your strength. It’ll help improve your balance, too.”

“Okay.” I agreed, rather sullenly. He had already given me quite a bit of homework.

“Now, for the next set. So I’m gonna come up behind you, as most attackers would, yes?”

“Right.” I said uneasily, rolling my shoulders as he came around to stand behind me.

“I’m going to wrap my arm around your throat, and I want you to drop your chin, alright? That’s very important, that’s the first step. So first I just want you to concentrate on that and I promise to hold you loosely.”

“Okay.” I whispered hoarsely.

“And don’t worry, I’ll go slow.” Standing behind me now, he slowly wrapped his right arm around my neck.

I immediately lowered my chin, digging it into his forearm as I again instinctively grabbed at him. But I didn’t tap out; his movements were slow and his grip loose, just as he had promised.

“Perfect. Now, holding my arm as you are, take a step to the side and bring your foot up and back.

“Your aim here is to kick your attacker in the groin. Please, please try not to actually kick me. I’m wearing a cup, but in this case, my thigh will do, I think.”

“Okay.”

“Whenever you’re ready.” He said.

I took a hard step to the left, pulling his upper body with me, opening him up as I thrust my foot back and up. I knew I had accidentally hit home when I heard him grunt and he doubled over.

It was convincingly effective, though, he had released me entirely and was crumpled to the floor.

I had every opportunity to “run away” now.

###

“Oh my gosh, Mason, are you okay?!”

“Yeah.” He groaned, struggling up. “You did very well. Let’s-let’s try that again, but this time, maybe don’t use quite so much foot torque, okay?”

I pinched my lips together to keep from smiling. “Sure thing, Coach.” I said.

When Mason had recovered himself, limping over to the shelf to grab some water, he returned and I obligingly let him pull me back into a gentle headlock.

I didn’t even mind the constricting sensation this time. At least I got to have his arms around me, one last time...

I don’t even know why or how, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be the last time.

###

“Very good.” Mason grunted. “Alright, let’s call it for tonight.” He groaned, limping back from the water shelf again. He tossed me a small towel to dab my forehead with.

I was getting used to working up a sweat these days, and I was even disappointed when our lessons were over.

Time to go home, alone. Watching TV on the couch with Sniffles again and ordering Chinese food? Oh joy...

“So I’ll...”

“See me this weekend for our core strengthening lesson?” He finished for me, sending me a meaningful glance that told me I still wasn’t anywhere close to where I needed to be, fitness-wise. I didn’t begrudge him the truth; he was my coach and I had come to him to make me strong, not just feed me useless compliments.

Still, the truth would always sting coming from a person you liked, and I made a sad little mental note to myself to eat less of my own baked goods, starting this week.

“And Annie-?” He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder as I was making a rather dejected exit for the door; still bummed he hadn’t invited me to come home with him; or to coffee the next day, nothing.

I felt his big, heavy hand land on my shoulder and I reacted out of pique more than fear.

Grabbing his hand and pinching the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, I wrenched his arm away from me, spinning around and dropping my bag at the same time.

I was half in the process of twisting his wrist back on itself, when he reversed the power of our positions.

Mason grabbed my supporting hand, my left hand, and whirled me around so fast that my hold on his was broken.

Before I knew it I was backed up to the wall and Mason was caging me in with that big body of his.

He held me in place by my upper arms, his grip perfectly gentle, of course. Gentle or no, though, I knew that there was no struggling loose until he was ready to release me.

He was just so much stronger than me.

My eyes burned with tears of frustration.

Mason gazed down at me without a single trace of anger in his eyes. His face was soft, his gaze kind and gentle and a little...sad.

Sadness for me?

“Annie, remember what I told you, that day we first met?”

I blinked up at him in confusion and mild surprise.

“I warned you that your blind rage would be dangerous if left unchecked. You need to learn how to harness that anger, channel your rage; you need to learn how to control yourself, Annie.” He studied my eyes and I continued to gaze back up at him with sullen silence.

He sighed. “Leyfield wouldn’t hurt a fly. I can handle you.” He eyed me with wry amusement now that I didn’t appreciate.

Still, I wasn’t freaking out because I knew that the second I tapped, he would instantly release me, without argument or question. He was a gentleman. The problem was, most guys weren’t as good as Mason Blacksteele.

I swallowed down my feelings as I gazed up at him.

This was killing me, I realized. Sure, Mason was a gentleman, but he wasn’t my gentleman. He wasn’t mine, period, and he never would be.

And it was freaking killing me.

Having him touch me, even like this, it was just too much. The scent of him, filling my head, the sound of his deep, gravelly voice raking across my poor, tattered nerve-endings.

It was too much.

It was more than anyone should have to endure.

“I just want you to think about how terrible it would feel for you to accidentally hurt someone you care about. Someone like Penny; not someone like me who can handle it, but someone weaker than you.”

I blinked away my tears and nodded. “I get it.” I said thickly.

He dropped his hands from me slowly. “I’ve recommended our yoga instructor to you; Skye is really great at leading meditation sessions, as well. I again recommend that you pursue some meditation for yourself, if not with Skye, with someone else. Or you can even find some pretty decent recorded sessions on YouTube. But you need to do something to get control of your PTSD, do you understand me, Annie? Before you really regret it.”