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I clutched the back of his shirt while he led me into the yard. Only Liam had approached me in his animal form. Some kids had done the same on one of our walks recently, but those animals were much smaller and less intimidating than a gigantic-assbear.
A faint memory of a zoo came to mind. It disappeared shortly after, leaving me with a strange sense of nostalgia at the sight of Jermaine standing on his rear legs. He raised a paw like he was greeting us. Liam and I raised our hands in response. Jermaine made a grunting sound, dropped to his front paws, and shuffled off toward the trees.
Liam turned to me. I was too distracted watching the bear, prickling with anxiety despite the assurance that it was just Jermaine. I trusted Liam. I wasn’t sure how much I trusted anyone else, except for his sister and her mate. Those two were amazing people—amazing shifters.
A few seconds later, I focused on Liam and bowed my head. “I don’t know much about fighting. I can throw a decent punch.”
He grinned. “Alright, punch me.”
I gaped at him. “Liam, I can’t. It would—”
“What? Hurt me?” He guffawed. “I can assure you I’ve survived much worse.”
The gaping continued. What the hell wasthatsupposed to mean? “Liam, I can’t hit you. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Pretend I’m Phil.”
Every muscle in my body tensed at once.
Liam clapped his hands. “Good girl. Now use it. Take off your coat and show me how you hold your fist when you’re getting ready to slug a fucker.”
Seconds later, my coat was on the ground, and I had my fist pointed at Liam. Weirdly enough, I didn’t feel as bad about it as I thought I would. Still, the thought of slamming my fist into his flesh didn’t appeal to me.
He nodded while tapping my knuckles. “Pull it back.”
I wound my arm back, shakily staring at the puffs of white air spilling from his mouth with every exhale.
“Good girl,” he praised. He held up his right palm. “Now punch here.”
“Liam, I can’t—”
He growled, “Punch me.”
It was either panic or fear that drove my fist forward. I couldn’t tell. But the adrenaline from the command turned up my body heat as my knuckles contacted his palm.
Liam didn’t budge an inch. Meanwhile, pain shot up my arm and stung my elbow, making me recoil to shake my fist. “Ow, wow. Why did that hurt so much?”
“Because you’re punching from your wrist, not your shoulder.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
He smiled as he stepped toward me and extended my arm. “Swing from here”—he tapped my right shoulder—“while keeping your arm steady and your wrist loose.”
“Can you show me?”
“Yeah, I’ll grab the punching bag.”
I stepped aside, watching as he excitedly dashed to a shed located at the lefthand side of the yard. Within a few minutes, he had a boxing area set up. He wrapped white tape around my knuckles to protect them and showed me a few effective punches using the technique he’d described.
When I stepped up to the punching bag, I tried to do as he instructed. I pictured Phil as I dug my heels into the dirt. Ireared back my right fist, pivoting my hips as I had been taught, and released my rage on the bag.
Liam applauded my effort. “Good job, baby girl. Do it again.”
We did several rounds of punches. By the time the moon was above us, I felt like my world had shifted drastically. I didn’t have to hide anymore. I didn’t have to worry about defending myself. I wasn’t weak, and I wouldn’t ever succumb to Phil’s insults ever again.
Liam empowered me—and as long as he did that, then I never had to worry again.
Chapter 19 - Liam
