Chapter Four
It was very cold in my room when I woke up. The tiny fireplace in the bedroom had long since been walled off and the cottage’s ancient furnace worked only sporadically. I had to remember to do something about that, although what, I wasn’t sure. The furnace was too old to be repaired and Silas Ford didn’t have a dime to his name to fix up the cottage. And to think it was only the beginning of September.
I was almost afraid to get out from under the covers. Exhausted from working at the bar until late last night, the notion of staying in bed a little longer tempted me; but my animals would start the breakfast ruckus anytime and I had a lot to do, including following up on Gunny Watkins’s list.
With a groan, I dragged my butt out of bed, slipped into a pair of yoga pants and piled an extra layer on top of my tank top before I shuffled to the bathroom. God, I looked worn-out. Dark smudges underscored my eyes. Not that it helped much, but I washed my face, brushed my teeth and combed my shoulder-length bob into a semblance of order. My artificially blackened hair struck a harsh contrast against my skin, making me look sickly, gothic or both. My pale roots were showing.
I went to stoke the fire in Ash’s room, but when I tiptoed to the door, I found it ajar. I peeked in. A robust fire already burned in the hearth. Ash looked very different from the drifter who’d showed up at my door. Not only had his health and pallor improved, but he’d shaved, transforming his features from shabby chic to contemporary elegant. He had a wide face, a straight nose and a nicely defined mouth. His grandmother had always said he was a handsome kid. She hadn’t been boasting.
Metallica blared from his earphones. Wearing only a pair of sweats, he did sit-ups on the braided carpet, crisp, fast, picture-perfect sit-ups that might have split me in half or killed me on the spot. His wide shoulders and his abs revealed little need for such rigorous exercise, even though he didn’t look like a bodybuilder or a punk on steroids. His body came across as balanced, flexible and resilient, despite the scars and even after several months in the hospital.
Dear God. Men like him shouldn’t be allowed to go shirtless. Or maybe they should be required to go shirtless all the time?
“Good morning,” he said, startling me.
“Oh, hi,” I said, blushing like a tween.
Standing there, enduring Ash’s scrutiny as he continued to exercise, my skin flushed, my pulse raced and my belly fluttered. And I don’t mean fluttered as if I had a couple of butterflies in there—no—nothing like that, nothing soft, benign or pure. I mean fluttered, as if a rabble of migratory butterflies numbering in the millions had overtaken my body with lust all the way to the cellular level.
What the heck was wrong with me?
I disguised my reaction by petting Neil, who greeted me with a doggy smile and a wagging tail. I avoided Ash’s stare, afraid of partial brain failure. My eyes wandered the room as I tried to focus my attention on anything that wasn’t a physical part of Ashton Hunter, like the IV bag. He’d rigged it on the bedpost so that he could exercise with the needle in his arm.
“Do you think that’s such a hot idea?” I said.
“What?” he said, without missing a beat.
“Exercising so hard when you’re still hooked up to an IV?”
“I can’t stand the bed anymore,” he said. “I’ve got to move.”
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Only a few more to go.”
I tore my eyes away from the human sit-up machine and took in the room. He’d settled in for sure, organizing his belongings with military precision. His backpack and gear hung from the pegs on the wall. A pull-up bar was wedged on the door above my head. A formidable-looking rifle hung on an improvised rack by the window.
I approached the window cautiously. “What’s this?”
“That’s my personal MK11 Sniper rifle,” he said, coming to a stop and resting his elbows on his knees. “I had it locked in the truck. Don’t worry, I didn’t steal it from the navy or anything like that. I own it, permit and all.”
“Do you think the Taliban will attack today?”
“Not the Taliban.”
Did he know? Had he figured out my secrets? For a second, I was sure he had. My stomach plummeted to my feet. My blood turned into iced water. Then he smirked.
“Rent and protection,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Rent and protection.” He pulled himself up from the floor and hopped gracefully on his uninjured foot. “That’s why I’m here. Right? That’s the deal you put on the table.”
“Protection?”
“Protection. Mountain lion, remember?” He lifted his arms over his head and stretched like a lion himself.
“Oh, yeah, sure, I remember.” Why couldn’t I think straight? “Okay, protect away. I’m off to feed the crew.”
“Wait.” He grabbed the IV, hopped to the window and hung the bag on the curtain rod. He picked up the rifle and, putting his eye to the scope, swept it in a slow arc as he scanned the hills and the woods. “Let me do some recon. Give me a sec.”
“Fine,” I said, “but if you spot the mountain lion and it’s like, really far away, chasing butterflies or doing something harmless, don’t shoot. If it’s not endangering my animals, I don’t want you to kill it. Promise? It deserves to live too.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Rules of engagement: I shoot only if it threatens you or your animals. Otherwise, the son of a bitch can live forever.”
“Good.”
Eye on the scope, he swept the grounds again while I stood over him, keenly aware of his proximity. I breathed in his scent, heated iron, boiling water and something darker and slightly spicy that enticed my senses and discombobulated my body.
This had to stop. Now.
“I sure hope that mountain lion stays out of your way,” I said.
“Sometimes you’ve got to make shitty choices.”
I had a feeling we weren’t talking about mountain lions anymore. “Must be really hard to make choices like that for a living.”
“It comes down to some simple facts, really.” The lines between his eyes deepened as his eyes narrowed when he slowed down to scour a distant thicket of trees. “It’s whether you want to make your own decisions or play someone else’s game; whether they’re gonna kill your guys or you’re gonna to kill the ones who want to kill your guys. The rest is just bullshit.”
I seized the chance to snoop. “So you were a sniper with the Marines?”
“Sometimes,” he said cryptically.
“Did you ever regret one of your kills?”
“That’s a hard-ass question.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He glanced at me then put his eye back to the scope. “Are you sure about that?”
The flush on my face confirmed my guilt. “I better go.”
“Stand by,” he said, scanning the far hills. “For someone who doesn’t like to answer questions, you’ve got a wicked double standard.”
“Forget I asked.”
“I could, but I think I won’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“There was this one time,” he said, one eye shut, the other squinting against the scope. “It was a while back. We were doing over watches for the Marines. This woman steps out of a mosque tugging this kid by the hand. The kid is crying. I can see them clearly through my scope. My marines are coming around the corner and the woman sets an intercept course. My spotter is like, ‘She’s got a kid,’ but I track her with the scope, and the kid is still crying, and my guys are about to meet her in ninety seconds...”
I couldn’t even imagine the pressure of a situation like that. “And?”
“She pulls out an AK-47 from under her burka. I get a glimpse of the bulk beneath her robes and some wires. It’s not an easy shot or a done deal at over two thousand yards. It’s got to be final, you see, or else she’ll have time to pull the wire. My marines, they’re less than ten yards around the corner.”
I nibbled on my pinkie nail. “What did you do?”
“So I light her up and take her down. My spotter is like ‘What did you do?’ He never saw the AK-47 or the bulk under the burka, and he’s losing it. He thinks I just killed a woman for no reason at all. That’s the moment when I regret pulling the trigger. Did I really see what I saw? Did I kill an innocent woman?”
Holy Mother.
“Lia?” Ash stared at my hand. “You’re going to draw blood if you keep biting your nail.”
I pulled my finger from my mouth and clasped my hands together. “What happened?”
“Through the scope, I see the marine’s advance element checking out the kill,” he said. “Sure enough, she’s wired with enough explosives to take out the entire unit. The news comes over the radio. The kid’s not even hers. She stole him from another woman and she was going to use him as a shield and blow him up too.”
“God.”
“That’s what I said too—well—I added a few choice words. My spotter, he went home stateside after that.”
“And you?”
“I didn’t like killing that woman and yet I can’t say I regret it. She killed herself with her actions. It was either her or my guys. But I made my decision and I get to live with it.”
He looked up from his scope. “Are you horrified?”
“No.”
“No?” The split eyebrow came up. “Lots of people would find tons of material for moral and ethical commentary in that story.”
“Not me,” I said. “I wish life was different, but beyond opinions, perspectives and politics, there are some evil people in this world.”
“Some would call you judgmental and self-righteous,” he pointed out.
“Sure,” I said. “That’s because they haven’t suffered at the hands of evil, or because they don’t know anyone who has, or because they don’t understand that evil can look cool, nice and even trendy sometimes.”
He flashed me a curious glance. “But you do.”
“I do what?”
“You understand evil quite well,” he said. “Why is that?”
The memories slammed me all at once. The darkness lunged at me like a hungry beast. I battled it back, rejecting the gloom and suppressing my emotions behind the wall I’d built in my mind. Steady. Breathe. Cope. I was getting better at this. My stomach roiled, but I managed to keep it together.
“Are you okay?” Ash eyed me with concern. “You’re looking a little shaky on your feet.”
“Me?” I let out a manufactured titter. “Nah. I’m good. What were we talking about?”
He frowned. “Evil and why you understand it so well?”
Crap.
I cleared my throat. “I guess I’m just a realist. At the end of the day, your guys went home to their parents, wives and kids. That’s what matters to me.”
His eyes lingered on my face for a few seconds too long. “Clear.”
“What?” I said.
“You can go now,” he said. “To feed your animals.”
“Oh, yes.” I charged for the door, but his voice stopped me at the threshold.
“You never walk to the door,” he mumbled, looking through his scope. “You run for it.”
“Pardon me?”
“Never mind.” He glanced at Neil, snapped his fingers and motioned for the German shepherd to follow me. “Go with her.”
“Come on, lover.” I patted my thigh.
The dog trotted over to me, but hesitated at the door and grumbled a drawn-out woof.
“Neil doesn’t like to leave you behind,” I said. “Is he trained to stick by you?”
Ash sighed and, turning from the scope, fixed his gaze on me. “And you say I ask too many questions.”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”
“I don’t like certain places and situations with lots of people these days,” he said, straightening on his feet. “That’s why I came out here. I’m not crazy or psychotic or anything like that.”
Post-traumatic stress disorder. “I know.”
“He helps with that stuff.”
“You didn’t have to tell me.”
“But I did tell you about Neil, just as I told you about that woman in Iraq, and for a very specific reason.” He set his rifle aside and leaned against the windowsill. “I don’t want you to fear me. I don’t want you to feel unsafe in your own house, and I mean more unsafe than you already feel.”
I shifted from one foot to the other. I wrung my hands until they hurt. How could I reply to a statement like that without breaking into a billion little pieces? His words did reassure me, but I couldn’t acknowledge his kindness or deviate from my path. Silence was the safer course of action, even if it disappointed the expectations I spotted in his eyes.
“Neil and I will bring you breakfast after we feed the guys,” I finally said.
He gave me a curt nod. “I’ll be watching.”
He was indeed watching when I went out to the backyard. Maybe I was a fool, but as I crossed the pasture and let the animals out of the barn, the world around me seemed like a safer place.
I fed and watered the animals. I cleaned the stalls, laid out some fresh straw and groomed both the pony and the donkey. I added some nectar to the busy hummingbird feeders throughout the backyard. Neil had a blast terrorizing the chickens.
By the time I made it back to the kitchen, Ash hopped about on his crutches downstairs. Thankfully, he wore a T-shirt, which meant I could think with a degree of clarity. He’d fitted the IV to his camelback and strapped it to his back so he could move about hands free.
The good news? He welcomed me with a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee. The bad news? He rummaged through my pantry like a marine with a mission.
“What the hell do you eat for breakfast around here?” He inspected my cupboard, holding the sparse offerings he found at arm’s length as if they were nuclear waste. “Are you a junk food addict?”
“I’ve got some cereal somewhere in there.” I grabbed a couple of boxes and shook the empty one. “Well, maybe not Lucky Charms, but you can have some Cocoa Puffs if you’d like.”
“Have you heard of proteins, fresh fruits and vegetables?” he said “They’re food groups, the kind that provide some nutritional value to your body?”
“Ha,” I said. “Are you also a comedian?”
“You can’t live on junk like this,” he said. “No wonder you look like a little breeze could topple you over.”
“I don’t need much,” I said. “Besides, that stuff is cheap and it tastes good. Who doesn’t like Lucky Charms?”
“You’ve got the palate of a three year old.” He looked in the old Frigidaire. “There isn’t enough food here to sustain a grown-up, let alone two of us. And how about some fresh milk to go with the kiddie cereal that no mom in her right mind would allow her child to eat?”
“Sorry, but your first, last and deposit are already spent,” I said. “I had to catch up with the rent and stock up on feed for the animals.” No sense telling him about my escape fund. “Milk is next week when I get paid.”
“Looks like I’ll need to do a food intervention before that,” he said. “Maybe you can pick up some things at the convenience store when you go into town?”
“I guess I could do that.”
“Also, I scheduled the cable guy to come out this afternoon. Please don’t shoot him when he knocks on the door.”
“Have you mistaken me for a Rockefeller?” I smashed the empty cereal box in the trash can and grabbed my cup of coffee. “I can’t afford cable out here. It’s crazy expensive.”
“It’ll be under my name and on my dime,” he said. “I can’t be a proper hermit without internet and you’ve got to complete your online caregiver class.”
“But—”
Out in the yard, Neil barked. My heart broke out into a wild gallop. I leaped to the window, splashing coffee all over, straining to see who was coming up the hill.
“At ease.” Ash grabbed a rag and wiped the floor with mind-boggling efficiency. “It’s just one car and he’s not sneaking around.”
“Is that what your Spidey senses are telling you?”
“Neil wouldn’t allow anyone to sneak up on us,” he said. “He knows I don’t like surprises.”
I didn’t like surprises either. They made me sick to my stomach. I suppressed the urge to lunge for the shotgun, but only because Ash’s studious gaze stuck with me as I pressed my nose to the window.
Sixty seconds later, a car came up the hill. I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted Jordan Meddler in his convertible. He got out of the car and came to door, trailed by Neil, who wagged his tail and sported his best doggy smile. Those two were meant to be lifelong friends.
Tall, lean and lanky, Jordan ran marathons in his time off, which also accounted for the tan that darkened his otherwise fair complexion and the blond streaking his short hair. I met him at the door. The smile froze on his lips when he caught sight of Ash in the kitchen.
“Jordan, this is Ash,” I said. “Ash, this is Jordan, the doctor I told you about.”
“Hey,” Ash said. “Sorry about your nose.”
Jordan fingered the bony bridge of his nose self-consciously. It was made even more prominent by the Band-Aid he wore over it and the bruises underscoring his hazel eyes. “What’s he doing out of bed?”
“Oh, he’s got his own crazy ideas about convalescing,” I said. “Guess what? They don’t include a bed.”
“Mr. Hunter—”
“Call me Ash.” He shuffled on the crutches to the coat stand and groped through his coat’s pockets. “Everybody else does.”
“Ash,” Jordan said, setting his vet bag on the table. “You really shouldn’t try to undo Lia’s efforts. She worked hard to make you better.”
“You’re right about that one.” Ash fished out a couple of protein bars from his coat and, after opening one, tossed it in my direction. “Try this for nutrition, Lia. Doc?”
Jordan shook his head. “I already had breakfast.”
“Are you perchance a Lucky Charms kind of guy?” Ash asked.
Jordan grimaced. “I’d rather eat dirt.”
“Great news.” Ash winked at me. “You’ll live a lot longer than Lia.”
The wink shot through my body like a steel ball in a pinball machine. It raced, spun and bounced up and down my spine, lighting up my body’s gates all the way down to my toes. Alarms rang in my head. Jackpot.
Oh, no, not this type of a reaction again. I made a conscious effort to ignore my wild emotions. I bit into the protein bar and made a face. “Speaking of dirt...”
Ash laughed. “I said nutrition, not flavor.” He tore open the wrapper with his teeth and spat out the foil. “Lia tells me that you and your brother got me out of trouble, Doc. So I thank you. I’ll have to think of a way to pay you back in addition to taking care of the bill.”
“That was a nasty little infection you had going there.” Jordan’s gaze fell on me. “I wouldn’t have touched it if it hadn’t been for Lia. She can be very persuasive.”
“Oh, yeah.” Ash chomped down on his protein bar. “No arguments there. One look at those stunning gray eyes and you just want to do whatever the hell she says.”
Stunning? My eyes? Had I heard right? I had to force my heart to beat in sync again. Surely, I’d heard wrong. Yes, that had to be it.
Jordan cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Mr. Hunter—Ash. Perhaps now you can be persuaded to seek proper treatment elsewhere?”
“Lia’s got it covered,” Ash said. “She’s trying to get through to the VA to arrange for regular doctor’s appointments. If anybody can do it, it’s her. She’s got grit.”
“Is that so?” Jordan said stiffly. “Well, until then, I’d keep the antibiotics going.” He put a hand on my back and motioned toward the kitchen door. “Lia, may I speak to you privately?”
“Sure.” I started for the door. “If it’s about Izzy’s hoof, I think it’s getting better—”
“It’s not about Izzy’s hoof,” Ash said. “I guarantee it.”
“No?” I halted in my tracks, confused.
“No,” Ash said.
Jordan’s eyebrows drew together. “Is there something bothering you?”
“Not yet.” Ash eyed the other man with a glimmer in his eye. “But soon.”
Jordan’s hand wilted off my back. “I don’t follow.”
“Nothing’s bothering me yet, but something will bother me in a moment,” Ash explained, leaning casually against the counter.
“You mean because I asked to speak with Lia privately?” Jordan said.
“That too.”
I stared from one man to the other. “What’s going on?”
“I’m thankful that the doc here helped me out, I really am.” Ash downed the last of the protein bar and licked his fingers. “Far be it for me to act like an ungrateful son of a bitch. But I don’t like this next part where he pulls you aside and tells you that now that I’m better you should ask me to leave.”
“Leave?” I said.
“Yes, ma’am.” He sipped on his coffee. “This is the part where he says he’s not sure about me. I could be off. I could be dangerous too.”
Jordan opened his mouth and closed it.
“Admit it, Doc.” Ash flashed his wicked smirk. “Isn’t that what you were about to say?”
“Someone has to look after Lia’s interests,” Jordan said. “She’s a woman living alone, away from town. She’s kind and caring and it would be a real shame if someone tried to take advantage of her.”
“Jordan?” I said. “Ash is not trying to take advantage of me. I asked him to stay. He’s actually helping me out by paying rent. He’s Wynona’s grandkid, for God’s sake.”
“When you care for dangerous species,” Jordan said, “you’re bound to get hurt.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“Reptiles,” Ash said. “More specifically, venomous ones like cobras and rattlers, the sort of vicious, unpredictable snakes that will bite the hand that feeds them. Ain’t that right, Doc?”
“It was just a figure of speech,” Jordan said.
“See, Lia, the doc wants to warn you,” Ash said. “Guys like me, coming back from Iraq and Afghanistan, we’re iffy. If there’s a shooting somewhere, everybody thinks it’s one of us. The studies aren’t conclusive yet, but we could be off. Doc wants you to know that.”
“Jordan knows better than to make huge generalizations like that,” I said. “Don’t you, Jordan?”
“I’m not saying that Ash is a bad person or anything like that, but...”
“But what?” I said.
“You told me you wanted a woman tenant, remember?” Jordan said. “You were wary and rightly so. You never expected a guy like him to show up at your door. Think about what people in town will say when they find out.”
I stared at Jordan for a full thirty seconds, until the full implication of his insinuation hit me. “I don’t care what people say.” My cheeks burned. “If people want to jump to the wrong conclusion, that’s their problem.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Jordan, stop,” I said. “Ash has been through a difficult time. He’s come home and he deserves a fair welcome.”
“Actually,” Ash said, “the more the doc talks, the more I like him.”
It was my turn to stare at Ash. “You do?”
“I wasn’t trying to get you to like me,” Jordan muttered.
“I know.” Ash crumpled up the foil wrap and, with a flick of his wrist, tossed it into the trash can. “But, still, I appreciate a guy who watches over his friends, especially if that friend is Lia.”
“I worry about her.” Jordan’s tone sounded less like concern and more like a warning.
“That makes two of us,” Ash said, matching Jordan’s tone.
“I’m standing right here,” I said, not a little irritated. “I don’t need anybody to worry about me.” Especially when I did enough of that for the three of us.
“Well, see, I’m not really convinced that Lia’s well-being is foremost in your mind.” Jordan flashed a joyless smile.
Ash’s smirk was equally mirthless. “I’m not out to convince you, Doc, but since I’m around, you don’t have to worry so much.”
What the heck? I looked from one man to the other. It was like watching a Ping-Pong match. The mood in my kitchen had taken a turn for the worse and I couldn’t figure out why.
“Come on, Lia.” Jordan appropriated my elbow. “Let’s go check on Izzy.”
“Um, okay.”
“Yes, by all means, kids, go check on Izzy.” Ash twirled his fingers goodbye. “I’ll make some fresh coffee and I’ll be waiting, right here, when you two come back.”
* * *
Jordan left in a rush after examining Izzy’s hoof, avoiding the cottage altogether, declining the cup of coffee that Ash offered. I lingered in the barn, determined to fit a workout into my busy day. I’d missed my exercise while taking care of Ash, a routine that helped me to keep fit and control my anxieties. I stripped down to my tank top. With the mountain lion around and Fish and Wildlife not answering my calls, I forwent trail running for the moment.
Instead, I mounted the rusted treadmill I’d picked up at Goodwill, and, cranking the speed setting, went at it with all I had. Every time fatigue threatened to slow me down, I reminded myself that, as per my own experiences, cardiovascular endurance was vital to any successful escape. Run, Lia, run. That’s what I’d done for a while. That’s what I was destined to do for as long as I lived.
Forty minutes later, I stepped down, sweaty and breathless. My muscles twitched from the strain. Holding my side, I studied the diagrams I’d pinned on the back wall, before I began to practice my strikes on the straw-filled sack I’d recently strung on the beam.
The tricky heel kick I’d been trying to perfect sent the bag swinging wide. It bounced against the wall and came back at me with a vengeance. It struck me square on the chest and shoved me butt-first into the ground. I hit the dirt with a grunt. The air swooshed out of my lungs. I sprawled on the floor for a full sixty seconds, struggling for breath, staring at the rippling ceiling beams.
“Score one for the bag.”
I craned my neck and made upside down eye contact with Ash. He grinned then shuffled forward on the crutches. Neil trotted over, sniffed me and promptly began to lap at my neck and shoulder. I caught his face in my hands to prevent him from licking me to death. I flushed. Maybe I could be the cover girl for The Idiot’s Self-Defense Guide.
“How long have you two been watching?”
“Long enough.” Ash stood over me, offered a hand and pulled me up.
I groaned like an old lady and bent over my knees, trying to catch my breath.
“Don’t just lay there like a stationary target,” Ash said. “You’ve got to counterattack right away. You’ve got to keep moving, even if you can’t breathe.”
“It’s hard to think without oxygen flowing to your brain.”
“If you don’t think, you die.” He examined the diagrams on the wall. “Krav Maga?”
I nodded, still sucking for breath.
“Interesting,” he said. “I don’t know too many civilians who practice it.”
“It’s all the rage in urban gyms.”
“Shows what I know after years of consecutive deployments,” he said. “How long have you been training?”
“Apparently, not long enough.” I straightened and slapped the dirt off my butt. “What’s the point if even the punching bag can beat me?”
“It’s all about muscle memory.” He inspected my improvised punching bag. “You start with the simple movements and repeat them until you have them down pat. Then you build on that. But first, your bag is too light. You’ve got to find a proper opponent.”
His eyes scanned the barn. He grabbed a three-legged stool and, after plunking it behind the punching bag, bent his knee and balanced his injured leg on it. He braced the bag between his arms. “Let’s see you throw a cross-body punch.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me,” he said. “Come on, little girl, give it a try.”
Little girl?
I hurled my fist at the bag. Ash moved it slightly to one side. My knuckles skimmed the burlap and burned with the brief contact.
“Your opponent won’t be standing still waiting for a hit,” he said. “Be aware. Plant your feet first, claim your real estate. Krav Maga is about speed, maximum effectiveness and preemptive attack.”
“You know Krav Maga?”
“Expert level,” he said. “Don’t react, attack with the end in mind and anticipate your opponent’s range of responses. Try it. Feet apart, feel the earth beneath your feet.”
I landed a solid punch on the bag, which didn’t move this time around. A jolt shot up my arm. “Ow.” I grimaced and shook off the pain.
“Contact means pain,” Ash said. “It’s a lesson you have to embrace. Your opponent is constructed of bones and muscles. He’ll be bigger than you, and stronger too, which is why you have to be faster and smarter if you’re going to win the fight.”
He went through the basic combinations, teaching me how to turn my elbows, knees and heels into weapons and where a hit could make the biggest difference.
“Go for the body’s vulnerable spots,” he said. “Eyes, throat, face, groin, feet, toes. Show me a hair grab escape.” He watched me critically. “Not bad, but you need to build speed, range of movement and endurance.”
“I just need to be able to defend myself.”
“The most effective defense is an intelligent attack,” he said, “and the most effective attack is the one that disables your opponent fast and for good. Why are you so keen to learn to fight anyway?”
“No questions,” I said. “Remember?”
“You’re a gutsy gal with lots of brainpower.” He challenged me with a smirk. “Why are you afraid?”
“Is that how you want it?” I front-kicked the punching bag. “What were you doing in Afghanistan when you got wounded?”
He absorbed the energy of the hit without so much as a grunt. “That’s classified information,” he said. “Why is it that you don’t like questions at all?”
“For your own good, that’s classified too.”
“Come on, Lia.” His eyes darkened. “Tell me the truth.”
“The truth?” I stepped away from the bag and wiped the sweat off my brow. “Okay, I’ll give you the truth. The truth kills, Ash, it kills with astonishing regularity. So be happy that you don’t know anything about it, and heal fast. The sooner you get away from me, the safer you’ll be.”