Page 33 of Savage Ruin
I grit my teeth but say nothing.
She closes the garage door.
“Garage door closed.”
“Interesting, I didn’t know it did that,” she says, laughter still coloring her voice. “Can you show me the gym? Since I’m not allowed to take a walk outside, a treadmill will have to do. You have one, right? I remember seeing several purchases for exercise equipment in your bank account.”
I give her an incredulous look. “When were you snooping in my bank account?”
She waves a hand like it’s nothing. “Before we met. I needed to know if SEI was a legitimate business or if you were doing illegal things, like laundering money. Your account is pretty boring. Tons of exercise equipment, jewelry for your… dates, tailored suits, and flowers every Sunday.” She points over her shoulder. “Oh, and super excessive luxury vehicles.”
Most of the women I’ve dated would love to have access to my bank account, but I can’t say any of them would care what I’d bought with it, only the number on the bottom line. My mouth twitches. “Sorry to be so boring. Did you look at all our accounts?”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course. Mateo likes to spend a ton of money on education.” Her lips quirk like she approves. “Grayson is the interesting one. The amount of money he spends on yachts is obscene. What do you even do with that many?”
I close the front door and lead her past the living room and down a set of stairs. “The ocean is his escape. The gym is mine. It’s in the basement,” I reveal. “And yes, I have a treadmill. Several, in fact.”
We land on the bottom step, and she gasps at the sight in front of her. The entire basement is one large workout center. “We have the main area with treadmills and other cardio equipment.” I point to the right. “Free weights.” I point to the left.
I wave a hand toward the various doors. “They lead to a sauna, a pool, and hot tub. And a restroom.”
She stares around in disbelief.
I grab her hand and pull her to the back of the gym. “This is what I call ‘the arena’ and it’s where we train using various fighting techniques. Plus, I use the bag to work out when I need to get rid of some stress. What do you think?”
“I think you’re probably better equipped than most professional gyms,” she states with a chuckle. Her hand reaches out to push the heavy bag. “Can you teach me?”
I frown, not sure I heard her correctly. “Teach you… what? To box?”
“Can you teach me to fight? To defend myself? Enough to bring someone down or get out of their hold? I watched a few videos, but I must have done them wrong because they didn’t work,” she states matter-of-factly, but her voice trembles slightly with fear.
A fierce wave of protectiveness rises in me. This is something I can do for her. “Yes, I’ll teach you some moves, and we’ll practice every day until they become second nature, okay?”
Her eyes shine with relief. “Thank you,” she says fervently. “I want a few surprises up my sleeve when he comes for me.”
I inhale sharply, then reach out and pull her to me. “He’s not going to come anywhere near you,” I respond with a growl. “We’re going to flush this bastard out and remove him. Permanently.”
She pats me on the chest but shakes her head. Her blue eyes are dark with determination. “Maybe, maybe not. Teach me the best and worst moves you know. Teach me as if you know he’s going to take me. The probability is a lot higher than you think, and you might be giving me an advantage.”
I recognize the fierce determination in her gaze. She’s a fighter, and if I can put another weapon in her arsenal, she’ll use it. “You’re right. Go change. We’ll start today,” I reply, to her surprise. “I understand more than you think. It’s the reason I started working out. If my father found us, I wanted to have more options than running.”
She lifts her chin at my confession and smiles. “Thank you. I’ll be back in ten.”
While she’s gone, I unwrap my hands and organize my thoughts on the best moves to teach her. We don’t have years to perfect her skills, so she needs the most impactful moves she can master in only a few sessions. I hear her on the steps and turn to find her entering the room wearing leggings, one of Grayson’s t-shirts, and running shoes.
I grab the loose fabric of her shirt and yank her toward me. “Tie it close to your body. Loose clothing can be used against you.”
She nods earnestly and ties a knot in the bottom of the shirt.
I dip my chin. “Good. Now, I want you to yell.”
She frowns, clearly uncomfortable with this simple order.
Crossing my arms, I wait.
“Aaarrggh!” she semi-yells.
“That was terrible. Do it again. Louder.”
