Page 22 of Liar & Champion
“That’s not true,” Nix said easily. “There are a lot of places to go for help, and just because you’ve been hurt before doesn’t mean you will in the future, or that you can’t become strong enough to resist evil. The truth is, bad things happen to everyone. The real strength comes from rising after you’ve been beaten and living your best life in spite of it. Still, it’s nice to win when you’re attacked, so let’s do some basic escape moves. Get a partner and find some space.”
Christina weaseled next to him. “I can be your partner,” she breathed, pressing her chest against his arm.
He smiled at her. “Actually, I’m going to be helping out everyone, but Henry needs a partner. Henry, this is Christina. This is the hold. Now, you’re going to escape the hold.”
I watched and practiced on myself, trying to get the grabbing and the escaping right. It was kind of confidence boosting to have something specific to know that you could do.
“All right. Good work, everyone. Next class will be about how to take down an opponent when you’re attacked. Next week, same time. All right. We’re done here.” He walked over to me and sat down in the chair Henry had been sitting in. “Well, Kitten? Are you glad you came?”
“I want to put my head on your shoulder.”
He looked at his shoulder and rolled it a few times. “That’s right, because I left the pillow in the truck. Poor Kitten, having to settle for my shoulders instead of soft, fluffy down. Do you want to walk out, or do you want me to carry you?”
I smiled and got up, crutches under my arms. “I’m good. You can go chat with the ladies while I make my slow way out.”
“Not a chance are you leaving me alone with them,” he hissed, eyes widening in alarm. “Did you see that female, using a man’s unnatural fixation to asphyxiate me?”
I blinked at him. “Oh dear. Do I need to use my crutches to protect you?”
“Yes,” he said, slipping around to my other side so he could open the door for me.
Outside, the breeze was chilly, but I was wearing my favorite yellow cardigan.
“Why do you like yellow?” he asked as we walked slowly down to his truck.
“It’s happy.”
“You’re already happy. You don’t need yellow. That first day in philosophy, you in that smiley face t-shirt was almost painful.”
“You should have told me so I could have taken it off.” I wiggled my brows at him.
“Hey now Kitten, don’t you start flirting with me or I’ll be forced to reciprocate.”
We reached the truck and he helped me in, putting my crutches in the back. Christina came up to him, slipping her arm in his, so I got to see her brilliant smile and fabulously batting lashes. I could also hear her because the window was rolled down.
“That’s so chivalrous of you to help poor Sunshine, but you shouldn’t let her spoil all the fun you could be having at college.”
“If I wanted to have fun, college isn’t where I’d be,” he said, moving around her, trying to get to his side, but she kept getting in front of him.
“I’m sure that you’re the kind of man who can multitask,” she said, smoothing her hands up his chest.
He stiffened up then he shoved her down and landed on top of her right before I heard a distant pop. Pop, pop! Was that a gun?
I shoved open his door and threw the blanket out over the side of the door and them so they weren’t visible to whoever was shooting. Nix pushed Christina inside the cab in front of him, and she landed on me, wearing Beastie’s favorite perfume.
Nix slammed the door and started the truck, while shots kept going off.
“Are you bleeding?” Christina shrieked, and grabbed Nix, where blood was streaming down his arm.
He winced and then ducked down, pushing her head down with him. “Stay down, if you would be so kind,” he growled. The tone did not go with the polite words.
I slid down to the floor, breathing hard and trying to think of something I could do. I looked down at my phone and then texted Daniel.
someone’s shooting at us.I hit send, but it didn’t deliver. I smacked it on the seat a few times, but it wasn’t working. Michael Dupre had taken my phone, sent it back, and had no doubt messed with it. I opened the door a crack and tossed out my phone. The truck hit a bump and I almost followed the phone out, but managed to catch myself in time and pull myself back inside.
“Where do you live, Miss Smallfield?” Nix growled, that same hard voice not matching the well-mannered words.
She gave her address from her place hunched down on the seat, her feet in my face. Happily, she was too distracted to kick me intentionally.
