AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“How have you been feeling?” he asks me as he backs out of the driveway.
“A lot better. My heart still hurts,” I say, rubbing my chest, “but I understand now why it happened. I kept thinking you could have just not done it but then Mr. Z would have tortured you all until one team was left standing. Doing it yourself was more humane.”
“Have you really forgiven us…Me?”
“I have, I can’t spend forever hating you. I don’t think I'll ever forget, though.”
“I don’t ever want you to forget, none of us want that. We just want you to be happy and safe. It’s all we have ever wanted.”
“You all have a funny way of showing it,” I quip.
“When you’re created to love someone so blindly it’s easy to fuck things up.”
“Tell me about it.”
I wholeheartedly understand. I can feel it with them, that love prickles under my damn skin and even when I want to hate them, I can’t. That feeling festers under my skin and I have no control over it. The average person could hold onto that anger and hatred, but for me everything is compartmentalised, rationalised and all the emotions are directed to where they need to be. It’s how I was created. They know that and have been waiting for me to realise it. I don’t think they thought it would be so easy, not having accessed my abilities in so long.
Trace drives us into Olympia and we both walk in the direction of the gym. We head into the older gym, all of the guys choosing to bring me here instead of the nicer place Colt was talking about. Maybe it’s quieter here, less interruptions.
Once we're inside we split ways, heading into opposite locker rooms to get changed. After throwing on my sports bra and shorts, I stuff everything back into my bag and exit the room. Trace is already changed and warming up on the mat. I join him and do a few stretches. I’m getting better at this whole self defence stuff, but they need to up the pace. We only have a few months left to get me up to scratch and I’m nowhere near the level that Summer and Blayne are at.
“I want to start learning some real shit. Teach me how to disarm someone with a weapon.”
He looks up at me and smiles, his brown hair long enough that it flops across his face and he swipes it out of the way. The movement draws my attention to his tattoos. I’m not sure if he has any spare skin minus his face, every surface covered in bright colours right up to his jawline. Trace, so much like Davis with his boy next door look. I used to dream about him being my first and feel guilty about it because he looked out for me. He was my person, but the tables have turned and the truth is on the table. Now I see him in a different light and don’t feel guilty about the way I’m drinking him in.
“Okay get up,” he says, jumping up into a standing position and goes to his bag. He rustles around in it until he finds what he’s looking for and pulls out a gun.
“Trace, why do you have that?” I gasp.
“You still have no idea of the dangers around you, do you? How have the years made you so naive? Just relax, there aren’t any bullets in it.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, eyeing the gun warily.
“Just remember, your goal in a situation like this is to get the fuck out of there before someone gets a gun to your head. Or if you can’t run, at least do what they say.”
“Yeah yeah, I get it but let’s just say that it’s life or death and I have to fight.”
“Over confidence will get you fucking killed, Jolie.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “Calm down, jeeze.”
He holds his arm out as if he is going to shoot me at close range. “Alright, grab my arm at the wrist, and make sure the gun is pointing away from you.”
I do as he says and he praises me, causing my heart to flutter. “Good, now continue that momentum and twist the arm to the right as you face away from where I was originally positioned. Now flip me like we've taught you and when I fall to the ground, keep your hand on my arm and try to take the gun. Use your foot on my arm if you need to.”
I follow his instructions and he goes down easy the first time. He runs me through another way. “This way is much more risky and you run the chance of the gun going off, especially if the person with the gun is stronger than you, but if you’re in a position that you’re going to die anyway it’s worth a shot.” He shows me how to twist the gun down, to try and break the gunman's finger, and take the gun by bending their wrist. It’s so much to take in, but we run over it a few times. He tells me that humans only grab one way with their thumb and forefingers, when the grip is most likely based on the thumb, attacking the thumb with a strike or a twisting motion can possibly break the grip.
He also runs me through what to do if a gun is pointed at the back of my head. I really hope I’m never in a situation like this, but my gut tells me I shouldn’t be so complacent with my safety anymore.
We spend two hours going over the same moves until Trace feels like I have memorised them. He also makes sure to tell me that if I have to run away a zig zag motion or an unpredictable pattern could help aid in not getting hit with a bullet.
I fall to the floor at the end of the session, my stamina is getting a hell of a lot better even before coffee. Trace flops down beside me.
“What’s been going on with you lately?” I ask. I didn’t miss his attitude towards Chester when he thought we were going to fuck.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit Trace. Give me some credit, I know you a little better than you remember.” I roll to my side and he follows suit.
