Page 81 of Unveiled

“Mr. Ryker has given me instructions to give you self defense lessons after classes each day, but only when your head is feeling up to it,” he tells me as we walk down the steps to the car, answering the question I was implying.

Do I feel well enough? My headaches are less frequent, and the gash on my forehead doesn’t throb nearly as much. I suppose if I can withstand a whole day of going to classes, I can survive a self defense lesson afterwards. Besides, the more I’m prepared, the better. Cain’s father is still on the loose and hunting me, and I’d like to be able to protect myself before he sells me to a devil worse than the last one.

“I have a shorter day of classes today, would you like to start this afternoon?” I propose. Jonah responds with a nod of his head as he opens the car door for me.

Luckily, I’m off to classes with no kind of hiccup in the morning. Ethan didn’t show up and cause a scene, Cain didn’t feel the need to claim me in front of everyone, and nobody was drooling over Cain walking around shirtless. Actually, I didn’t even see anyone. Cain left early for his meeting, and by the time I was leaving for class, the apartment was already empty. It was smooth sailing, which can only mean one thing.

Today is going to suck.

Two classes. That’s all I have to make it through, and then Jonah and I can find a gym somewhere and practice. After that, I’ll be able to cuddle with Cain and fall asleep in his arms once he comes over.

When did I become so sappy? A week ago, he was nothing but a part of my past that I was letting fuck me for the week, and now he’s all I can think about. Especially when he’s not here. It’s like I belong to him now, body, mind, and soul. Maybe I just need to spend time with the other people in my life more often.

I haven’t talked to Ethan since Cain told him off yesterday, and I kind of miss my best friend, even if things are a little awkward between us at the moment. We can’t make it better if we don’t spend any time together.

Making a mental note to call or shoot him a text at some point today, I push that issue to the side and get into class mode.

“Higher,” Jonah barks as he steps forward and pulls my arms up for what feels like the millionth time. I’m covered in sweat already, and all we’ve done is practice how to throw punches.

Since every man around me stands at least a foot taller than me, holding my hands right at my chest isn’t good enough. I have to hold them higher, which also helps to protect my head in a fight.

“Good,” Jonah praises when he steps back to appraise my stance, seeing my arms are still held high. “Now try to hit me.”

“What? No, I -” I stop, trying to collect my thoughts. I know he’s supposed to be teaching me, but can’t we just find a punching bag or something? Jonah is my friend, and I’ve been through a lot with him. He can’t really expect me to punch him.

“You need to know what it feels like to punch someone so you’re not shocked in the middle of a fight for your life,” he growls at me. The anger in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. Jonah has always been kind and has always offered me a smile when I need one. I’ve never seen him angry and hardened like this. This is the bodyguard side of him I never really needed to see until now.

“I-I have punched someone,” I stutter out, remembering the last time someone tried to train me. “Cain was teaching me, and I punched him. A lot.”

My cheeks heat with my admission, remembering everything that happened from there. I cracked that day, just a little, but it was a start. After that, I had to fight to continue seeing him as the monster until he finally broke me.

“Good. Now punch me harder than you punched him,” he instructs. He raises his own arms to protect himself, as if reaching him to land a decent hit against his face wouldn’t be hard enough.

Once he’s in position, I don’t argue with him anymore. This is going to be part of my training, no matter how much I don’t want to hurt him. This isn’t about what I want, it’s about my safety.

Walking through the steps he taught me throughout today’s session in my head, I perform each one individually. Find your target. Step forward. Swing.

Jonah catches my fist as it swings toward him. He looks unimpressed as his arms fall away from his face and he sighs.

“I saw that coming from a mile away,” he chastises. “Think through it all in your head and perform your steps in one fluid motion. I knew where you were aiming when you stared at me and fixated, and you waited too long between taking your step and throwing your punch. Again.”

I step away from him as we both get back into position. This time, I bounce on my toes as I try to walk through the steps in my head without performing them yet. When I’m ready, my foot steps out at the same time my fist swings.

This time, he doesn’t catch my fist, but he dodges my hit effortlessly. “Too much anticipation. I was ready for it before you even started to swing. You need to be quicker, you need to -”

He’s cut off as I use my entire body to propel my arm forward and my fist slams right into his jaw. His head twists to the side with the impact, and that’s where he stays until the shock wears off. Meanwhile, I’m left with my hands covering my open mouth, not believing that just happened.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think -”

Jonah holds up his hand, signaling for me to stop talking. I listen, still feeling horrible as he rubs the spot on his jaw where my fist made contact.

“That was very good, little bird,” he praises me with a small smile. “Do that from now on. Don’t think about it, just do it. You’re small, you have speed on your side. You also have a surprising amount of strength. Again.”

I’m hesitant to hurt him again, but he doesn’t let me back down. He brought me here to train me, and he’s not going to stop just because I succeeded.

Unfortunately, I only land two more punches on him. Even with his size, he’s quick with his dodges, and he has a lot more experience anticipating his attackers moves than I do. He sees everything I’m about to do before I even make the decision. But, as proud as I am that I could land any punches, I still felt bad every time I hurt him.

“You will want to ice your hand when we get back,” Jonah tells me as we’re grabbing all of our stuff at the end of the session. He looks completely unfazed, while I’m dripping sweat and my hand is throbbing from a measly three punches. Hopefully, I never get in an actual fight, or I’m going to walk away in worse shape than the guy I beat up, even if I win.

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