Page 21 of Gabe

Was this a test?

Was this something I was already supposed to know?

When I didn’t respond, Gabe yanked on my wrist so I stumbled toward him.

Not knowing what else to do, I tried to pull back. It was useless. His hand easily wrapped around my entire wrist and clamped down with a grip as strong as iron.

However, this seemed to be the response that Gabe expected, because his lips twitched up into a slight smile.

“Exactly. When people are grabbed like this, their first instinct is always to pull back and try to put space between them and their attacker. However, this just pushes your wrist more firmly into my palm. Instead, you want to twist your wrist and pull against the weakest part of your attacker’s grip, where the thumb and fingers meet.”

He walked me through the motion several times, showing me how to twist and pull in one fluid motion. It took some fumbling, but eventually, I was able to remove my wrist from his grip even with him holding on tight.

“Huh. How about that.” I examined my wrist. It was a little chaffed from the friction between our skin, but I was free with minimal effort. “Wasn’t expecting that to work.”

Gabe grabbed my other wrist. “It just takes practice, but the principle is the same no matter how someone grabs you.”

We spent a half hour going over different ways to escape a wrist grab. Right wrist. Left wrist. Straight on. From the side.

By the end of it my wrists were chafed raw, but I felt more comfortable with the technique.

After that, we moved on to other ways a person might try to grab me. The upper arm. The shoulder. Even the lapel. In all of them, the principle was the same, just executed in slightly different ways.

Compromise my attacker’s grip and use the opening to get away.

I was almost feeling confident in my ability to escape until, without warning, Gabe grabbed me in a full bear hug from behind and literally lifted me off the ground.

“This isn’t as common, but if your attacker is much larger than you or trying to kidnap you, they might try to pick you up like this.”

His breath was right in my ear. I could feel the vibration of every word, and I instinctively shivered. Goosebumps ran over my skin, and this time it wasn’t from the cold air.

“What am I supposed to do here? I can’t twist my whole body around. I can barely move my arms.”

I squirmed to show how trapped I was, and immediately realized my mistake. The entire front of his body pressed right up against my back and the material of his shirt did little to hide the firm lines of his muscles.

Something hot clenched in my stomach, and I realized with growing horror that I was aroused.

“You can still move your arms a little,” Gabe said, completely oblivious to my predicament. “From there, you should at least be able to reach my hands. Try grinding your knuckles over the tendons on the back of my hand.”

I did, pressing as hard as I could, and I felt him flinch. His grip loosened enough for me to slide down to the ground and get my feet under me again, though he didn’t fully let go.

“Good. The unexpected pain from such a move might make them let go entirely, but at the very least it’ll loosen their grip. From there, just grab any of my fingers and bend them backward. I’ll have to either let go, or let you break my finger. Either way, my grip is compromised, and then you can escape.”

I didn’t pull hard enough to hurt him, but I went through the motions to show I understood what he was talking about, and he let me go.

My palms were sweaty, and my breathing came harder than it should. I wiped my hands against my shirt, trying to ignore the heat rushing through my system and the tingling in my gut that wanted to blossom into something more.

It was fine. I just hadn’t experienced much physical contact with anyone other than Newt and my patients for a while. Feeling aroused when someone was pressed up close to me was completely normal. It didn’t mean anything.

I was so busy trying to calm myself down that I didn’t notice Gabe inspecting me with a critical eye.

“You have long hair,” he said, as if coming to a conclusion.

Before I could ask what he meant, his hand fisted in my braids and yanked my head back.

“The hair grab is a pretty common controlling move, especially against people with long hair, but getting out of it requires a different kind of technique. Instead of pulling away, you need to get closer.”

He explained the process for getting out of a hair grab, but I didn’t hear a word of it.

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