Page 81 of The Scars of Us

Ryker’s eyes hardened, and his jaw tensed as his lips set in a frown. “There won’t be a next time, that’s for damn sure,” he practically growled.

I waited for his expression to soften, but it didn’t. He was actually upset at the thought.

“Hey, it’s just a precaution, right? No reason to get upset,” I said calmly as I placed my hand on his bicep.

His stiff body relaxed some as he gave me a small smile. “Yeah, you’re right. I just don’t like the thought of you getting hurt.”

His words warmed my insides like coffee on a cold day.He really cares about me, doesn’t he?

He walked over to one of his supply tubs and brought out a prop knife. Stiffening slightly from the reminder of my attack, my hand instinctively went for my throat. Ryker noticed my apprehension as he came back to me. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, Ky. Kaleb isn’t getting released anymore.”

Our eyes met again, and I remembered how his loving touch the other night had made me realize that I couldn’t let my attack have the kind of power it had over me; I couldn’t let Kaleb have that kind of power over me anymore. I was done being afraid.

“No, I’m ready.” I said after taking a deep breath.

Ryker paused, searching my face briefly. “Okay. First, I’m going to show you what to do if someone is coming at you with a knife. Then, we can work on defense from behind.”

Ryker took up his fighting stance, holding the knife in his right hand. “Typically, an attacker is going to try to stab you in the stomach, thrusting directly forward like this,” he demonstrated, slowly moving the knife towards the center of my abdomen. “And, most will repeatedly stab you, so you need to disable them, not just block their initial attack because they’ll come at you again.”

Handing me the knife, he instructed, “Pretend that you’re going to stab me.” When I did as he said, he shifted his hips back, moving his torso out of the way as he threw his arms out to trap mine. The back of his right arm was on top of mine while the back of his left sat under, sandwiching it in place. “When they thrust at you, you need to block their arm, prevent it from getting near you while moving your body back. Your dominant hand needs to be on top, right above their elbow, and your opposite arm needs to be under their forearm. So, for you, your right arm will be on top. I basically made my arms into an X, trapping yours in between and securing it from going further.”

Nodding, I asked, “Then what?”

“Then, you’re going to turn your top hand over, gripping the bottom of the tricep. Once you have a secure grip, move your other hand to their elbow and pull their arm into your chest, trapping it there. Act like you’re sawing their tricep with your right hand until your wrist is digging into it and then clasp your hands together. Now, you have them in a simple arm bar.”

He had executed the moves as he spoke, so I was bent over with my arm pulled back and trapped between his two, huge, muscular ones. For me, I wasn’t in any pain, just uncomfortable, because I was pretty flexible, but Ryker could easily snap my arm from the position I was in.

“Now, you’re going to want to take a step back to protect yourself from getting hit. Most people will reflexively put their other hand down on the ground to stabilize themselves. If they do, you can stomp on their fingers, which will almost guarantee breakage. Or you could just do some knees to the face, which will knock them out after a few solid hits.”

Ryker loosened his hold on me, then helped me stand upright. He rubbed my arm. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. You know I’m flexible.” I gave him a playful smile.

“That I do.” He winked, and his dark, seductive eyes gleamed with mischief. “Let’s go through it again.”

We repeated the maneuver twice more before we switched roles. Ryker had to talk me through the moves as I completed them at a snail’s pace the first two times, but they were becoming more fluid after my third try. By the fifth time, I had a pretty good grasp on the concept, but I knew I would need to practice again to really get it. Something to do at our next Saturday session.

“Now, I want to practice if someone comes up behind you and puts a knife to your throat. You think you can handle that?”

My stomach contorted uncomfortably at the thought.It’s not a real knife and it’s only Ryker. You can do this. You wanted this.Swallowing the knot of fear in my throat, I nodded. “I can do it.”

Ryker didn’t look convinced as his eyes perused my face. “If it gets too much for you at any point, just tell me and we’ll stop, okay?”

“Okay,” I meekly replied, my voice sounded frail and gauzy as I tried to hide my nerves and push down the fear trying to take over.

“Baby, I don’t like seeing you like this. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” His eyes filled with concern, and his voice was heavy with doubt.

I was about to take the easy way out and agree, to tell him that I couldn’t do it, but I wanted to be stronger, wanted to make him proud. “I’m okay. I can do this,” I replied, hoping I sounded stronger than I felt.

Ryker didn’t say anything for a few seconds before he conceded, sighing. “Fine. I’ll talk you through the whole thing.”

As usual, Ryker had me act as the attacker first, walking me through the steps of how to defend. That was the easy part. After demonstrating several times, he asked, “Ready to try?”

I nodded, afraid to speak and betray the fact that I was borderline terrified of having that thing pressed against my throat, scared that it would cause another panic attack in the middle of class.

Ryker’s familiar body pressed up against my back. Leaning into him, I reveled in the feel of his large body and strong frame, needing it to get me through the maneuver.You can do this. Conquer your fears. Overcome your weakness.

Closing my eyes, I waited for the pressure of the knife against my scar. Instead, Ryker’s hands grazed my bare arms, trailing down until he linked our fingers together. I felt the warmth of his breath on the side of my neck before his lips met my skin. His mouth lingered there several seconds, causing a shiver to run up my spine as he whispered, “You can do this, Warrior. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. I believe in you.”‘

---