Page 12 of Teach Me
His fingers grazed her neck as he dropped his hand. “You can. He’s already turned physical once; the odds that he’ll do so again are high and going higher. You have to pay attention to your safety. I’m here to teach you how to do that.”
Because he wanted her safe, not because he just wanted her. Who would, except, apparently, the maniac who refused to take the wordnofor an answer?
The thought made her angry. She tightened her spine. Con nodded his approval.
Folding her hands into fists, he said, “This is to block, both around your face”—his hands coasted down her forearms—“and your chest and rib area. The way your feet are positioned helps you keep your balance.” He pushed against her forearms, and she felt her weight shift into the leg positioned a bit behind her. “Now stand up straight, feet together.”
She did. This time when he pushed, it forced her to take a step back. There was no bracing if she stood upright.
“See what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do.” She could get this. Something eased deep in her gut. She returned her feet to the braced position, one slightly back. “Okay, now what?”
“Now we practice some blocks.”
Conlan took a similar stand a couple of feet in front of her. Hands up. Legs braced. The slight smile she’d given him disappeared. He looked a lot more intimidating than Brit ever had. Bigger. Jess felt small standing in front of him, a tiny David to his Goliath. She took a breath.
Suddenly Conlan’s fist shot out, right at her face. The sight of the hit coming turned her body to ice. She froze, watching in a kind of morbid fascination as his fist opened, his fingers extended, and he delivered a light tap to her nose.
“Come on, Jess. Block. Open your hand and slap mine away.” He reset, and Jess swallowed hard.
Another punch. Another tap.
She told herself to move. Think. Blink. Nothing; her feet stayed glued to the floor, her arms up, immovable. The only part of her that responded was her heart, which galloped so hard her chest felt close to exploding—if she could breathe that long.
A hurting grip. Bones ready to break. Screams burning her throat. That voice in her ear. “Mouse.”
Conlan maneuvered around, trying to engage her, relentlessly patient with her lack of response. The standoff lasted for what seemed like forever but could’ve been minutes. Finally Conlan gripped her wrists, forcibly lowering them, and shook her arms out. Her fingers were numb. Con rubbed over them, his rough touch triggering the blood to flow again.
“Just breathe,” he said, the deep slide of his voice obviously meant to be soothing.
“I can’t.” But she had to. She dropped her palms to her cotton-covered thighs, running them up and down her yoga pants in short, jerky strokes. “It’s just—”
“Just what?”
A feeling of failure settled heavily on her shoulders. “I’m trying.” She swallowed, the dry click grating on her nerves. “But when I see it coming, I just can’t… It’s like my brain and my body completely disconnect and I’m frozen so hard I can’t even move to breathe. It’s like I know I have to defend myself in here”—she tapped her temple—“but here”—she held up her hands—“nothing’s happening.”
“It will. You have to push past it.”
“No kidding,” she snapped. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t realize that the minute I walk out that door, any safety I might have is going out the window?” She snorted. The sane part of her brain wondered why she was jumping all over Conlan, assured her this wasn’t his fault, but she simply couldn’t get herself to stop.
“Jess—”
“Jesus, Conlan, I’m the one he attacked, remember? Every time you punch, all I see is his fist coming at me. I remember the pain and my body just…can’t do anything.” A massive shudder finally broke over her. “I can’t… The thought of facing him, of anything… It’s just—”
Con drew her trembling form to him. Some small part of her cried at the knowledge that she was too upset to enjoy it, but the soothing hush of his breath helped her own settle into an easier rhythm. Gradually, so gradually, the tension inside her drained away. The heat radiating from all that muscle filled her with an uneasy peace—and an aching sadness.
“This is normal, Jess.” At her choked denial, he sighed. “It is. And I’m sorry. I know this is hard. I do. But we will get you through it.” He leaned back, his gray eyes dark as they met hers. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he stared for several long minutes, searching, digging deep until she worried what he’d see. “Let’s try something different, okay?”
Her body felt cold when he stepped back. “Okay.”
Before she could comprehend what he was doing, Conlan spun her around so he stood behind her. Steely arms immobilized her instantly.
“No!”
Chapter Six
Con thought his heart was going to break. As many women as he’d helped, he’d never wanted to give in, to stop teaching her to survive and just hold her and protect her and make sure nothing ever touched her again. Not until Jess. Forcing her to face her nightmares was killing him, no matter how necessary it was. Shuddering sobs echoed through the room, so loud they blotted out every other sound except his own ragged breathing, a rhythmic roar in his ears.
