Page 80 of Cruel Debts
It was one thing to jack off to the thought of an imaginary version of her I'd never met. To pretend I'd ever be worth her time, that we'd ever fit in each other's worlds. It was another entirely to see her, know her, protect her, and then turn around and imagine doing filthy things to her like I just had.
As I toweled off my body, dick hard once more, I decided the least I could do was make sure she could protect herself. Self-defense was one of the first things they taught us in the military. How to react in certain situations, to keep ourselves safe, to perpetuate escape from captors as a hostage. And she'd already been kidnapped once.
Maybe it was a good idea to show her the basics.
Asher couldn't do it. Man was a wet blanket when it came to fighting. He'd roll over and give up and then end up under her as they lost their clothes and their sanity. Hawke was no better—his only preferred problem-solving method was a carefully-placed time bomb, whether literally or figuratively, that he could walk away from and never be tied to.
I was the only one of us who ever bothered to learn hand-to-hand combat or self-defense. It had to be me. Keehn would have wanted me to do it.
I threw on a pair of sweats and a compression top and steeled myself for an interaction that would prove to be awkward. My feet carried me to the door of my room.
And then I stopped, with my hand on the knob, waiting for—for what?
I wasn't sure.
Twist the knob, buddy. Twist it, push open the door, and take a deep breath before you embarrass yourself. You kill evil men for a living. How the hell are you so scared of a simple fucking girl?
I wasn't. I wasn't scared of her at all. The fear that raced through my veins was because of the real possibility that I'd do more harm than good the second I opened my mouth and spoke to her.
When I finally reached the kitchen, Hawke was nowhere to be found, though. It was just her, sitting at the island, her fork in hand as she speared what looked like sliced chicken and some sauteed vegetables, bringing them slowly to her mouth with a frown on her pretty lips. Her eyes trailed over to Asher's door, then Hawke's, and when she got tired of that, she turned to mine and spotted me standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall.
Her frown deepened. "Oh, it's you." As if it might be someone else coming from my room's direction. "You come back to yell at me some more?"
The desire to match her sullen attitude nearly suffocated me, but I managed to tamp it down and pretend it didn't exist. "No. I came to make you an offer."
I watched her brow climb. "An offer? What is this, where you shove money at me like one of those cheesy dramas and tell me to leave you and your brodudes alone, and walk away? Take the money and never be seen again?"
I didn't follow. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Never mind." She shook the thoughts from her head and turned back to her food, taking another bite. "What do you want, Liam?"
I want you to leave my brothers in arms alone. I want you to stop fucking Asher. I want you to stop mind-fucking Hawke. I want you to start fucking me.
"I want to teach you how to defend yourself."
Great.
"Like self-defense?" Somehow, the idea seemed as preposterous and insincere to her as it did in my own head. "Why would you want to help me when you've made it so clear that you can't stand me?"
Why, indeed?"Because I've been a bit of a shit human being, and a shit friend, and I owe it to you, and to Keehn, to do right by you. And if you're not going to listen to us, or stay where you're safe, then it'll make me feel immeasurably better to know that you can do more than whine and wait for rescue if something were to happen to you."
"So this is to makeyoufeel better," she said with a huff, her lip twitching in a scowl. "No thanks. I'd rather be shot to death by accident or be held hostage for a year, than take lessons from you."
In seconds, I had her in a reverse headlock, and she struggled against my grip, though I didn't hold her tight enough to hurt her.
I was an asshole, sure, but I was just trying to prove a point. Show her how necessary it was for her to know something more than what she did. Instead of working in my favor, though, the move seemed to have done nothing more than incense her. And that wasn't helping my case any.
"Let me go, Liam, or I swear I'll?—"
I looked down at her with side eyes, sarcasm dripping from my words. "You'll what, Trin? Hurt me? Go ahead. Try to hurt me."
She tried kicking, but I was too fast. Her feet flailed pointlessly in the air behind her as I lifted her tiny frame intothe air and immobilized her. Then, she resorted to trying to slam the back of her head into the bridge of my nose—a smart move, but she wasn't fast enough, and I easily dodged the attempt. She brought her heel down where my instep was seconds before, and then she tried to claw at my arms, before I pinned her hands to her sides, despite the strangled snarls she made at her plight.
"Okay, okay, so what if I can't fight back? You happy now? Does it make you pleased to prove that you're so much better than the spoiled rich girl, that she's too weak to be trusted on her own?" There was something below the surface, something more than the anger she projected at me, but I'd never pry it from her. Not like this.
"I'm not happy or pleased," I said instead, my eyes hard. "I'd be happy if you would learn how to prevent a situation like this, for when I'm not around to save you."
"I did just fine when you left me in the gym alone," she huffed, her mouth hanging open as she leaned down and bit me in the forearm. Whereas her other attempts were unsuccessful, this one hit the mark, and I hissed as she slipped from my grip and danced out of reach, triumphant at her perceived victory. "And I can do just fine now."
