Page 12 of Allure

“Which do you prefer? Asshole or Fucker?”

For as dark as his hair is, his eyes are a light brown color. Those eyes narrow, and his nostrils flare ever so slightly. I probably shouldn’t be verbally sparring with him, but I can’t help it. When someone pushes me, I’ve always pushed back.

Just ask Kyle Murphy. He pushed me on the blacktop when we were in kindergarten. I jumped up and shoved him down. I landed on my rump and had been fine other than getting the wind knocked out of me and my pride being wounded, but Kyle? Both of his knees had cut open, and he got blood on his shorts. The teacher saw the whole thing and didn’t really scold either of us.

I’ve dealt with bullies before. You can even consider my father a bully to some extent.

“Go ahead. Press your luck, but you’ll be the one crying later.”

“I don’t cry,” I inform him. “Do your worst.”

And he does. He doesn't just lead warm-ups. This time, he teaches the class. Turns out that Declan King is a joshu, which means he's an assistant instructor, and he has us do leg kicks.

Which means we partner up and take turns trying to hit the perfect spot where we crush the quad muscle between the bone and our shin. My leg buckles every time because I’m paired up with Jackie, and she hits that accursed spot every time. I miss more than I hit, but she tells me if I’m too high or too low.

Of course, we switch so both legs can feel the utter agony, and by the time class is over, I can barely walk.

“How did you like class, newbie?” Declan calls out.

I eye him. “That the best you got?” I ask. “Because if you mean to run me off, you have to do better than that.”

He grins as if accepting that as a personal challenge.

What the hell? Shouldn’t he want there to be more students for the dojo, not less? Why does he want me to fail so damn badly?

I'm a lot of things. I might have a lot of personal demons, but one way I've taken to trying to battle them is not ever quit. I can be a real stubborn prick, and the harder Declan tries to get me to quit, the more likely I am to stick it out just to spite him.

Before class started, Jackie helped me with my belt and told me that the quickest track to becoming a black belt takes three years, maybe longer. It depends on when Sensei feels that you’re ready to test.

The thought of dealing with Declan and his shit for three years doesn’t exactly excite me, but I dealt with my father and his abuse for a hell of a lot longer than that, and I endured it. I’m not lying when I say I can handle anything Declan dishes out.

I just shouldn’t have to.

CHAPTER5

I’m not nearly as sweaty after class today like I was yesterday, and when I watch the other women get changed out of their karate clothes into street clothes before leaving, I figure I’ll start to do the same. I don’t care if my karate attire gets me strange looks, but it’s so pristine white, and I want my uniform to remain perfect.

Thinking about perfection makes me think of Declan and his stupid perfect teeth, and I huff as I open my car door. Dawn and I should probably eat on campus today. Check out the cafeteria. The food is supposedly really good here, and I do have a meal plan. Might as well make use of it. I just ate a protein bar for breakfast, and for lunch today, Dawn went out to get us Chick-fil-A. I just love chicken. Chicken and sushi are my favorite sources of protein. Seriously, I could eat chicken seven days a week and not get tired of it.

Before I can grab my phone to see if Dawn texted me at all, my phone rings. I grab it out of the glove compartment and groan when I see who’s calling.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey. How are you?”

“Good. Hungry. Just finished my second karate class.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, dear.”

Dear. Shit. She only calls me that when she wants something from me.

“What do you need?” I ask cautiously.

“Why do you sound so apprehensive?” she asks with a laugh. “I was wondering if you want to meet up for dinner.”

I blink a few times, trying to process this.

“You… You’re in California?”

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