Besides Jaxxon, Instructor Kovov was the second person to get a version of my attack—an edited version, just the facts. In order to get him to let me test, I’d told him I’d figured out the catalyst for the hesitation. Hence, tonight’s pre-test. It wasn’t necessarily a test, more a psychological assessment on Kovov’s part.

During the exam, he’d be one of the instructors testing us, but I’d been training with him so long he wanted confirmation in case one of the other instructors ended up with me tomorrow. An instructor I’d never worked with before might miss the hesitation. Kovov wouldn’t.

Walking in front of me, he rested his hands on my shoulders. “Relax. Eyes open and center.”

With a small squeeze, he left me alone in the center of the mat. The studio lights dimmed, and the streetlights outside cast a dull glow throughout the studio. The click of the switch completely killed all the lights in a space I’d felt comfortable in for years. That tiny sound echoed through my head, shooting a tremor through my upper body and lodging deep in my stomach. An eerie spider legs sensation crept across my skin, turning familiar into foreign.

I closed my eyes for a brief second, recalling Jaxxon’s last words to me.

Motherfucker’s dead, baby. He can’t hurt you anymore. Do what you do, Valentina.

“Eyes open,” Kovov snapped. “Breathe.”

I finally lifted my eyelids and focused on the small tool shed outside our front window, shutting out everything else around me, tuning into my body, my surroundings, letting my eyes adapt to the dark. The muted sound of the wind whispering through the slight gap at the bottom of the front door faded. Far off horns and the highway merged into a mashed up cacophony before disappearing. One by one, I eliminated sounds from the outside world until all I heard were Kovov’s bare feet on hardwood floors behind me. Then they too joined the silence.

“Drill,” he snapped.

I took deep breaths and went through my warm-up drills, every muscle in my body tense and alert.

He’d know how to come at me to inspire the most fear—I’d had to give him the psychological edge.

“Again,” he insisted, when I finished the first rotation.

He’d walked around behind me, in front of me, drilled with me, for so long, the tension worked its way out and I was no longer aware of where he was.

Sweat poured down the sides of my face and I fell into the headspace where I was in sync with every muscle in my body, my blood rushing, and the rhythmic beating of my heart.

The second I stopped to catch my breath, relaxed in my surroundings, an ironclad arm locked around my neck, jerking me off my feet. I threw my head back, but he moved at the last second. When my toes grazed the mat, I lifted my legs and let all my body weight drop until I got two feet on the ground. As soon as I felt the mat, I stomped down on his left foot, but didn’t break his hold. That was the beauty of Krav Maga—anything goes.

Again, I crushed my heel into his other foot. I pushed my hips out to the side, and jammed an elbow into his ribs.

As soon as his grip loosened, he bent at the hips. I spun in his arms and brought my knee up into his groin. When he doubled over further, I fisted the back of his shirt in both hands for leverage and kneed him in the chest over and over, never letting go of my grip, ensuring the impact would do the most damage.

The second he became unsteady, I jerked away enough to throw a shoulder into his gut. As he staggered, I grabbed his arm, twisted, and hurled him to the ground beside me. I landed with a knee in his sternum and my hand pushing the side of his face against the mat.

Gasping for air, I jumped off my instructor and bowed.

“Well done.” He got up as if I hadn’t just hit and kicked him way harder than I would in testing tomorrow, but he was Kovov—unbreakable. He stood in the graceful way I always admired about him and nodded to me. “You can test tomorrow.”

I smiled so wide my face hurt.

Instructor Kovov locked the door and we walked out of the studio together. “Toni,” he called out to me before I got in my car. “Sharing your past with me took courage.”

“Thank you, sir, but why did you take so long?” I laughed, looking at my watch. He’d let me drill for about forty minutes before he touched me.

“You had to forget you were being evaluated. In real life, attacks can come when you’re comfortable, vulnerable, day or night. They can come from anywhere at any time. You knew why we were here. Rely on your instinct tomorrow. Drive safe.”

Before he got to his car, I jogged over to him. “Instructor Kovov.”

He turned to look down at me.

“Thank you. Thank you for not giving up. I think any other instructor would have.”

He smiled and nodded. “I never doubted you . . . you did. See you tomorrow.”

I ran back to my car, jumped in, and dumped my purse on to the passenger seat, looking for my damn phone. I started the engine and texted Jaxxon, not wanting to bother him with a phone call when he had the kids.

One down. One to go. Thank you! Have fun with the kids tonight. Love you.

As I backed out, his text tone went off and I slammed on the brakes to check it.

If you can kick my ass, Kovov didn’t stand a chance. CALL me tomorrow after the test. None of this texting shit. I’m fucking serious. Love you too.

Driving out of the studio parking lot, I made a mental reminder to text Dad and Mom, Terry, Annie, and Martha when I got home.

It was a cool night, so I opened all the windows, cranked the volume on In This Moment’s, “River of Fire,” and let the wind flow through the car, cooling my overheated skin. The smell of the ocean surrounded me and I smiled, happy where I was at this point in my life.

More than that. I was happy with me, who I was, for the first time in my life.