Page 62 of Among the Sins of my Father

Barrett grins lopsidedly and lowers himself to the ground. There isn’t a lick of sweat on him. Not even a flush. “You’d be surprised.” He chuckles. “I guess it’s not a matter of being unafraid, it’s more about teaching you what to do when you are afraid and using it to your advantage. Right now, you’ve got no fear of losing. I’m not a threat to you. If you don’t fight me, all that happens is you end up on the ground. But if you do, you have a chance of hurting both yourself and me.”

“I have no problem with hurting you.”

“Good to know.” He laughs. “You’ve got to decide which you fear the most, the possibility of getting hurt by me, or the possibility of being controlled by someone.”

“Control. It’s definitely control.” I shudder. Even though I force back specific memories, that feeling of being used, of being unable to stop it, unable to fight back, still lingers in my bloodstream.

“Well, you need to use that. You need to muster it right here, right now and fight back when I attack, okay?”

I let my hands slide over the mat, lowering myself back to the ground. “I’m not sure I can. Can you just teach me to slit his throat?”

“You plan on always carrying a knife, do you?”

“Why not?”

“Because it can be used against you.”

“They’d have to pry it from my cold dead fingers first.” I stare at the rafters of the ceiling as Barrett jumps back to his feet.

There’s something appealing about the thought of using a knife. I keep imagining myself running across the throat of those who have hurt me. I keep imagining the way their blood would gush out and flow down their chest. The way their clothing would turn dark with the stain of it.

Barrett is waiting for me expectantly. He’s got way too much energy. “Come on.” His face appears in my vision. “Let’s go again. You ready?”

I shake my head and moan. “Nope.”

“Oh.” Barrett blinks in mock concern. “Well, I’ll just sit here and wait until you catch your breath. Bad guys are usually pretty accommodating like that.”

Before I can even blink, Barrett throws himself on top of me, crushing his body against mine. My reaction is instant. The panic. The vice-like tightness in my chest. I push against his chest feebly, forgetting everything he’s spent hours trying to teach me.

Barrett laughs menacingly in my ear. “Is that all you’ve got?”

I twist and turn, struggling to get out from under him. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head. I fight against the panic, determined to use it rather than let it use me.

“Stop trying to push me away,” he says. “Pull me closer. Stop me from being able to get to you.”

I thrust with my hips, causing the smallest amount of leeway against his grip around my wrists. And then I heave myself up, hugging his torso, removing any of the distance between us.

“Good, good,” Barrett huffs. “Now the leg. Trap my leg.”

He’s helping me. He’s not using his full strength or ability but I’m assuming I wouldn’t stand a chance if he did. Not yet. I wrestle my arm up and over his shoulder and plant my free leg down heavily, using the leverage to drive up with my hips and roll him off me. But the way we’re entangled means I end up on top of him, my knees resting either side of his hips.

He grins. “And now this is where you decide to run or fight. You’ve got the advantage, you’re now on top. But you’ve got to weigh up whether you think you can keep that advantage. Personally, my recommendation is, whenever possible, run.”

I nod, my words not coming due to my heavy breathing. Even though he was helping me, he didn’t exactly make it easy. It’s not a simple thing for a person of my size to toss a person of Barrett’s size off.

“You okay?” he asks when I’m still struggling for breath.

I nod again, bringing my hand up to press against my rapidly beating heart. “Just need a minute,” I manage to say. “I did what I could while I was,” I pause for a moment, “while I was away, but there wasn’t exactly gym equipment on hand.”

Barrett cocks his head. “Take all the time you need.”

He looks at me then. And for the first time in years, a warmness creeps up my neck and flushes my cheeks. Barrett isn’t handsome in the same way Jericho is handsome. He doesn’t cause women to turn and stare as he passes. He doesn’t have a killer smile or a wicked grin. But there’s something about him that makes me feel safe. And that’s more important than anything else.

I grin sheepishly and slide off him, flopping onto the floor. “Are we done for the day?”

Barrett jumps to his feet. And when I say jump, I mean jump. His energy is boundless. “If you want to be done, then we’re done.”

“I don’t think I have any strength left.”

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