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He smiled. “Excellent. If it’s okay with you, I’ll talk to her at school tomorrow, then, too.”
“That’s perfect.” An utterly bizarre urge to hug Mr. Jones shot through her arms. Siena did not willingly hug anyone alive but her sister, who liked hugs even less than she did. The impulse wasreallybizarre, and she shoved it away like a snake that had suddenly brushed up against her.
She simply said, “Thank you.”
He smiled broadly. “I’m happy to be able to help. We all are, Ms. Morgan. Your sister is a very special girl, and we want her to to feel safe and strong and happy.”
“Thank you,” she said again, this time only a whisper. There was nothing else she could say.
“Well, good night. Be safe.” With that, he walked away.
Siena unlocked the door and slid in behind the wheel.
She was losing control, seeing danger and threat everywhere, even in the faces of friends. She’d been in fight mode for so long she didn’t know how to be any other way.
But she wasn’t good at the fight. She had no real strength, no real power. No confidence that she could win. Not since her mother died. Not since her own genetic tests. Not since her surgeries.
That was why she was so defensive with everybody, wasn’t it? Without any sense of her own power, she felt weaker than everyone. Threatened by everyone. Any confidence she showed was just that—a show. Like the breast forms she wore to work. Pretending she still had what she had lost.
She needed to find some true confidence. She needed a way to feel powerful. Strong enough to fight the important battles. Strong enough to know when she didn’t need to fight.
Where in her shitty life could she find something like that?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cooper rolled and eludedthe guillotine, but before he could kip to his feet and reset, his opponent got over on him, got him on his back and mounted. Before the mount could be set, Cooper did a hip sweep and reversed their positions, getting his opponent’s back and achieving the mount. He went for a rear naked choke, worked his way under his chin and locked in.
As soon as he had the lock, his opponent tapped, and Cooper released. He did a backwards somersault and came up to his feet. His opponent still lay on the mat, chuckling while he caught his breath.
“Wanna go again?” Cooper asked with a grin.
“Nah, man. Somebody comes in, you’ll make me look bad. Got a rep to maintain.” Dave Collins, the owner of Tri-State Martial Arts Academy and a second-degree black belt in Brazilian jiu-jitsu—one degree below Cooper—kipped to his feet. “If you’re ever looking for a side hustle, I could use you as a BJJ trainer. I’m spread pretty thin, and BJJ is not my main skill.” Dave also had black belts in karate and aikido. Tri-State had a team of instructors covering most martial arts disciplines.
Cooper laughed. “I already got a side hustle, but thanks.” Glancing up at the caged clock on the wall above the front windows, he added, “I know you’re closing up in about fifteen, but you mind if I bang around on the bag for a while?”
They were alone in the dojo; the last class ended at eight, and the final hour of the night was for students to ‘free train,’ but not many made use of that time during the week.
Cooper wasn’t a student so much as a member. There wasn’t much Dave could teach him, but he was a great training partner.
“Go ‘head. I got some shit to do in the office, so I’ll lock up, but lights won’t go off until about nine-thirty.”
“Thanks, man.” They bumped fists, and Dave headed off to the front desk while Cooper went to the back, took off his uwagi, the top of his gi, and grabbed his gloves from his gym bag.
This dojo was currently the best thing in Cooper’s life. Pretty much the only place he could count on feeling like he was right inside his hide these days was here, training with Dave or one of the other trainers, or just working out in the mini-gym at the back of the dojo. They’d put a weight room in the clubhouse, but that place didn’t feel like home yet.
