Page 60 of Passenger Princess

I see the flash. I know she was thinking about that man last night and how things could have gone much worse. My mind is thinking of a dozen or so other situations that could have gone bad, the letter Hank told me she's receiving…and I come to a decision.

"I'm gonna teach you."

"What?"

"I'm going to teach you some basic moves of self-defense."

"You're going to teach me?"

"Yeah." At the very least, it will make me feel better, her knowing how to protect herself if the worst comes true—to know that if I'm not around, she can protect herself. "Yeah," I repeat, the idea taking form in my mind. "We'll rent a space at the next stop." I start calculating where that would be, pulling up the calendar in my mind and taking mental notes to scout out a location.

"We should get to Alabama by the end of the day unless we hit traffic, and we have nothing on the schedule tomorrow. I'll find a studio and rent it out." I'll use my own money if I have to.

"All right, big guy. But know I'm not going easy on you," she says, her smile wide, and it's clear she's finally awake.

"Yeah, yeah. Pack up and get dressed. The sooner we get on the road, the sooner we get to the next stop."

She salutes, then turns toward her room, coffee in hand. When Peach walks over to her, rubbing on her ankles, she bends to pick her up and fuck me; the shirt rides up, revealing the lower half of her ass.

I am so fucked.

TWENTY-NINE

AVA

"All right, next, we'll work on releases. There are three main versions: a wrist release, a bear hug release, and a hair release," Jaime says the next day, his eyes meeting mine in a mirror.

Upon waking this morning, he informed me he'd already found a dance studio to rent twenty miles away for my first official self-defense lesson. When we walked in, I felt at ease. The familiarity of a dance studio hit me with a wave of homesickness for my friends that I quickly brushed off.

Once we arrived, he wasted little time, first teaching me about different strikes and the correct way to do them, then moving on to how to be situationally aware in any situation. It's been eye-opening and a bit frightening to realize justhowunprotected I am at any given moment and how unprepared I am if somethingwereto happen, God forbid. I won't admit it to Jaime in this lifetime, but to some degree, he's right: I don't value my own safety nearly enough.

"A bear hug sounds fun. Let's do that first," I say with a smile.

For the millionth time, Jaime closes his eyes and sighs before his lips start to move quietly—a prayer of sorts.

"Fun?"

"Bears are cute and cuddly. It has a fun name," I say with a smile. I'm only saying it to irritate him, but clearly, it's working.

"Fine," he says with a shake of his head, then moves to stand behind me and stares at me in the mirror's reflection. "Okay, a man comes up behind you and grabs you; what do you do?"

I shrug casually. "Where's he grabbing me?"

"Does it matter?" Jaime asks, confused.

"Well, yeah. There's a huge difference between him grabbing my hand and grabbing a handful of my boobs."

With that, he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath like he needs to find some inner zen.

I don't think he succeeds.

"Fine," he says, arms wrapping me up in a big hug, pinning my arms to my sides. "He grabs you like this. What do you do?"

"I yell for help."

He shakes his head at me. "No, you don't yell help, you—" he starts, and I cut him off.

"Oh, yeah, you yellfire!"

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