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9
Anh was still asleep. Sebastian wanted to be left alone.
I was bored, so I took the elevator down to the next floor and barged in on the boys training.
They were dressed in sweats and wifebeaters. Johnny held martial arts pads as Connor punched and kicked with the fury of an MMA fighter. I had to admit, even though I thought it was slightly over the top for Connor to train so hard, he did look damn good doing it.
Johnny threw down the pads and picked up a fake rubber knife. “What’s the rule?”
“Situational awareness. Identify the threat,” Connor recited as he crouched down, panting, arms out in front of him. “Disarm, then disable – ”
Before he got the final word out, Johnny lunged.
It was like watching an action movie. Connor side-stepped out of the path of the knife, then slammed his arm down on Johnny’s wrist. A split second later, Connor swung his elbow up, aiming right for Johnny’s face –
Except Johnny wasn’t there. He had stepped off to the side, out of reach. Now he slashed the knife in a semi-circle, trying to cut Connor’s torso.
Connor arched his body out of the path of the blade, then came in swinging.
“Okay!” Johnny said right before Connor drove a fist into his jaw. Connor stopped. “Excellent. With most guys, you would’ve ended the fight with that elbow to the face.”
“Lily!” Johnny said as he saw me come in. “Wanna train?”
“Nope,” I said as I looked Connor up and down. “Just came to see the man candy.”
“Too bad,” Johnny said, and grabbed a pair of handcuffs from the floor. “You know the rule.”
The rule was, you enter the dojo, you train in the dojo.
I’d been bored enough that I’d chosen to disregard it.
“I’ll just leave, then,” I said, heading for the elevator.
“Not so fast,” Johnny said, and grabbed me by the arm.
I have to give Johnny credit: as soon as he put hands on me, my training kicked in. I spun to the side, leaned over, and kicked out sideways.
He quickly danced out of range, but that’s because he was expecting it. Anybody else and I would have broken their knee, making it bend in a direction God never intended.
“Good!” Johnny enthused. But like a magician who redirects your attention with sleight of hand, grabbing my arm hadn’t been the real objective.
Whrrrrr CLICK.
Getting the handcuffs on my wrist was the goal – and he’d succeeded.
“Aw maaaaan!” I whined as I tried to pull away from him. The metal bracelet was fastened around my left wrist, and he held the other end like a very short, silver leash. “Come on!”
“You know the rule,” Johnny said mischievously. He ran around me trying to grab my other arm so he could handcuff both my wrists, and then make me get out.
I twirled around, not giving him access to my other arm. “Come on, Johnny, I’m tired.”
“Best time to train,” Johnny said. “You probably won’t be at peak performance when an actual emergency arises.”
Suddenly he shot an arm out. Again, I reacted the way he’d taught me: I batted it out of the way with a smack of my forearm.
“Great!” he shouted – and then pulled me in close using the handcuff, throwing me off balance.
When I tried to use my free arm to keep from falling over, he grabbed it and –
