Page 91 of Brazen Mistakes

“You’re a stern teacher.”

“This is important to learn. Yell, Clara.”

“Fine.” I try to think through the options he just listed out, settling on the one that would be least strange coming out of a dojo on the Sunday before New Year’s Eve. “No, get away from me.”

“Louder. Your life could depend on this.”

I take a deep breath and try again. “No, get away from me!”

“Better, but look at your hands.”

Immediately, I realize I’d dropped my fists to my side to yell. I pop them back up, yelling for a third time, my throat already feeling weird. “No, get away from me!”

This time I keep my fists where they should be, and I earn a smile from RJ. “Good.” He steps back. “Now run.”

We cycle through the same few steps four times, until I’m getting bored, which RJ tells me means it’s sticking. He finally grabs two pads for his hands, like Trips has, one red and one blue.

“You’ve run, you’ve been cornered, you’ve yelled, but your attacker still thinks you’re worth the fight. What should you do next?”

“Now that there are pads, I’m assuming I’m fighting.”

“And what is your goal with the fight?”

“To find a hole and run,” I grumble.

“Exactly. While Trips taught you to punch, you’re better using your pointiest parts to incapacitate your attacker. Elbows and knees. Fingers to the eyes. We’re not looking for a fair fight. We’re fighting for your life. The attacker is in your space, they can get a hand on you, and you have nowhere to go. What should you do?”

“This part I know. Knee them in the groin.”

“Yup. If they drop, run. If they don’t drop, what next?”

I shrug, not knowing.

“An elbow or knee to the gut, nose, temple, or back of the head. The more hits you can get quickly, the harder it will be for your attacker to recover.”

“Makes sense.”

RJ steps forward, the pads in front of his groin. “Knee to pad. A big swing so you have a bunch of momentum, your knee as tight as possible so it hurts worse. Go.”

We practice kneeing the pads, left and right, from strange angles and with RJ slowly closing the distance between us, backing me against the wall, looming.

My back presses against the rough brick behind me, while RJ hovers over me, any escape vanishing, when without warning, the panic reaches out of my chest and clings to my brain. Everything stutters to a halt.

My brain goes blank. My heart sounds sluggish in my ears. I can’t feel my hands.

The world turns hazy as I cease to breathe, to think, to see, everything turning dim, only RJ’s panicked face making it through the fog as I collapse to the ground.

Chapter 34

Clara

Icome to with my head in RJ’s lap, his concerned eyes meeting my own, his ear to his phone. “Oh thank God,” he says, one hand cradling the side of my face. “She’s back. Yeah. Yeah. Got it.”

He hangs up, and it’s all I can do to put my hand on his, holding his palm against my skin. “Sorry,” I whisper, the need to make things right bubbling right past my intention to not take blame where none is needed. Old habits and all that.

“No, Clara, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…I should have known…damn it.”

I turn to press a kiss to his palm. “Not your fault that I’ve got a broken adrenal system.”

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