Page 28 of My Undead Heart
The young man turns, his face falling to a frown at Matt’s presence. “Haven’t seen him, Coach.”
“At all? What’ve you heard?”
Ricky chews on his plump lower lip a moment, his gaze flicking between the door and Matt. “You didn’t hear it from me.”
“That bad?” Matt runs his hands over the top of his head and grabs at the knot holding his hair back. “Shit.”
“Yeah, ’fraid so. Word is, he got into some trouble.”
Matt’s eyes widen and concern etches in his brow. “What? Why? He’s not selling—”
Ricky shakes his head. “Not that I know of. But he made a deal with the wrong people and couldn’t come through. If you want, I can go over there ...”
“No, I don’t want you involved. I’ll stop by his mom’s tomorrow. He still staying there?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Thanks, Ricky. You okay getting home?”
“Riding in style, Coach. The city bus loves me.”
“I bet it does, man. Stay safe.” Matt pats the young man on the back and walks him to the door, then locks it behind him. The gym that moments ago felt warm and full is now empty and sterile. Even Matt’s footfalls seem to reverberate from the floors and walls as he stalks toward me. His lips disappear beneath the scruff of his beard as he mashes them together, and his forehead crinkles with his frown.
“Is now not a good time? Should we reschedule?”
“No. Sorry about that. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.” He shakes his head and his face transforms into a friendly grin. “I’m glad you came, Mia. How you feeling? Ready to train?”
I have to fight the urge to return his smile, and those damn nerves are back, skittering across my skin. I shrug instead. “As much as I’ll ever be. Is this okay? I didn’t think to wear workout clothes.” Our office allows for an extremely casual dress code except for special meetings, and until I stepped inside I hadn’t considered bringing more than my T-shirt and jeans.
Matt’s gaze travels over my outfit, his grin still in place, and I hate how my body lights up with the perusal. “Totally fine. Though kick off the shoes before stepping on the mats.”
“Got it.” I unzip my boots and tuck them with my bag along the wall before following him to an open space in the gym.
“Okay, so have you ever done hand to hand combat?”
“No. Not really.” I shake my head, my grin pulling up with my next words. “Unless you count sticking a steel rod through a walking corpse’s brain.”
His chuckle bounces around the room. “Please tell me you’re talking about a video game.”
Hands on my hips I raise my brow. “What if I’m not? You scared?”
“Not in the slightest.” His smile only pulls wider. It’s a nice one, too. Unbridled and full of genuine delight. Even his beard moves with the motion. Matt seems to be the kind of person who smiles often, and that relaxes some of my nervous energy.
“This is the only time you can tell me what to do, so ... I guess, let’s get this over with.” I smart back in a cheeky tone and sure enough, he laughs again.
“I’ll remember that. Why don’t we go through a few simple techniques first? Slowly. Grab my arm ...” He proceeds to walk me through skill after skill until I can successfully deflect an attacker trying to grab at me from the front. I’m not sure Matt understands how much this alone means. My confidence grows with every minute. Sure, I fudge the first few, allowing him to capture me in a tight hold before he releases me so I can attempt it again. But with trial and error I quickly catch on, and even with his size I’m able to escape his reach again and again.
He’s a good teacher, too. Patiently breaking down the movements and critiquing me when I don’t get it just right. Complimenting and cheering each time I do. We don’t share much conversation outside of directions, but the energy is comfortable as he teaches and I learn for the next hour.
“Yes! Good!” he says from where I’ve shoved him to the floor. “Now back up, without turning around, and remember what I said.”
“Get off me! Help! Call 9-1-1!” I jog backward, keep my eye on him, and shout just as Matt’s taught me. It’s all in character and I don’t hold back.
“Good! Just like that. Be as vocal as you can and don’t turn your back.” He jumps from the floor and begins to tuck back his hair from where it’s come loose around his face. “You want to keep going or call it a night?”
“I think I have that down. At least I feel comfortable with it.”
“Good.” He nods. “You’re a hard worker. Next time we’ll go over floor work. Sometimes even with the right moves you’ll get knocked to the ground. It’s important to not panic and know what to do.”
