So, I grab the phone before I can change my mind and dial Tiffany, my determination and, yeah, just plain anger at the whole situation making me decide on a path I didn’t want to take.
“Yo! Long time no hear,” she trills as a greeting, her ever-present bubbliness making me cringe because I don’t want bubbly.
“I need you to take me to those self-defense classes you’ve been nagging me to go to.”
“Well, yeah! I’ll call my guy and ask him if you can join. But you have to understand that this class starts from beginners all the way up and we don’t change classes, so you’ll be coming in on the hard stuff.”
“That’s fine by me, babe. I need the hard stuff, and anyway, when have you ever doubted me?” I ask, laughing when she snorts.
“Never. I’ll come by to pick you up in about an hour. I got class tonight, so you may as well come on with me, and we can beg my teacher to let you join late.”
I thank her and rush around to get showered and changed into black yoga pants and a black vest shirt. I eat light, take my pills, praying this headache will ease sometime before the turn of the century, and wait for Tiffany, all the while telling myself that I am not making myself into a life-stealing machine, that this is necessary.
I am very opposed to hurting other people, after I woke up in the hospital and realized I would live. I know it sounds hippified, but it struck me as wrong to hurt others after what I went through. Now? If I am physically able, I will clean a clock like a boss and not feel one ounce of guilt.
Screw this. I won’t ever be helpless again.
Tiffany arrives just moments later, and I run out to the car, ignoring her gasps when she sees my throat.
“Mika, what the hell?”
“Little altercation at work, Tiff. Just a little misunderstanding that I don’t want to happen again, trust me, girl. I need to be able to defend myself if a man comes at me or I may just see my brother Lynx in a cell before the year is out.”
I tell her everything while she drives, even the part about how the EMTs told us that Alfred had a broken jaw and at the very least a fractured bone in his left cheek.
Tiffany fist-pumps the air and lets out a whoop, her enthusiasm telling me exactly what she feels about the violence I just witnessed.
“Hell yeah!”
“Hell no. You weren’t there, and while I am grateful to him, I don’t ever want him to have to do that for me again. Hells bells, Tiff, I really thought he was gonna kill that guy!” I shudder, shaking inside at the thought of Lynx doing something that will get him locked up because of me.
I don’t want to bring trouble to the people I love, and it’s as we drive and I relive the moments in that office that I fully understand how difficult I am making things for Lynx and Pop.
Most of the men like me and treat me with respect, but there are a few, buddies of Alfred’s, who just don’t like having to listen to a woman. It makes things hard for me, but I know that I don’t deal with half the shit Lynx has to.
Shit.
“I think I need to find another job,” I sigh when we stop in front of a brick building in the middle of the business district, the lighted windows the only lights on the block.
“I told ya it wouldn’t work, Mika. Society has come a long way with women’s rights and equality, but you will always find a bad apple somewhere in the barrel, and it’s worse when you have a bunch of macho men in the mix. Some will be decent, but some will be assholes. It’s life. You have to decide what to do with what you have.”
We get out of the car, and I think about her words, knowing that she’s right. I have one life, and telling myself that I want to be working in a job where respect is hit-and-miss on a daily basis is bull.
I can do anything I want, and the truth is that I don’t want to make it hard for the Wylders. Lynx and Pop will keep swimming against the tide to keep me there, because we’re family, but that isn’t fair, and I know it.
Hell.
“Hey, Tiffy!”
I look up just as that deep voice booms around us and gape when Tiffany throws herself at a big brunette giant, her squeal of laughter when he picks her up making me stop and blink.
Tiffany? Letting a man touch her? This isn’t the norm because after we were kidnapped, she was anti-men for the longest time. I’m shocked, especially so when he plants a long, wet kiss on her, palms her ass, and proceeds to make her moan.
By the time they’re done and pull away, I think I just lost a pound from the heat of blushing so hot.
“They’re disgusting, and I’ve told them that a million times, but he won’t listen.”
I whip around, dragging my eyes away, and meet the deep brown eyes of a man at least a head taller than I am. He’s nowhere near as big as the Wylders, but he is big. And very good-looking, with the same shade of brown hair as the man Tiffany is pawing.
“Uh, hello.”
Oh mama, do not drool, I tell myself heatedly, my eyes disobeying my screamed demands and traveling all the way down a body that is just…all good. So good in fact that I would fan myself if not for the fact that I’d be mortified.
“Hey. My name’s Harlan. I’m the big gorilla’s brother. I haven’t seen you around here.”
“I-I, uh, asked Tiff if I could tag along and beg a chance at this class. I know the big boss guy doesn’t accept late applications, but I—”
He stops me dead when he puts his hand around my throat, gently, touching the finger marks that are rapidly turning into dark bruises on my skin.
I’m shocked numb and stand very still while he strokes me, his brown eyes sparking with an anger I only see when the Wylders get pissed.
“Someone put hands on you.”
The snarled hiss is deadly, and I would be afraid, especially when he doesn’t remove his hand, but he’s so tender as he caresses me I can’t help leaning into the touch.
“Yes,” I say, breathlessly, my heart pounding in my chest when he leans in to look closer and I smell his clean sweat and the not unpleasant scent of bubblegum on his breath.
Oh my Lord, I am so getting me some, I think, trembling when he pulls up and drops his hand after one last stroke to my skin.
“You’ll get into the class,” he murmurs, his eyes still focused on my neck. “Tell me what happened.”
“Madman at work took it personally when I wouldn’t fudge his clock card again. My brother-in-law broke his jaw for it.”
He laughs and gives a contented growl, the kind you only hear from men who advocate violence in bad situations, and nods once at me.
“And yet you’re here…” He pauses and cocks his head questioningly.
“Mika. Mika Evans,” I whisper, keeping our eyes locked because I can’t look away from him.
I feel intensity and a tingle, a warning to steer clear unless I want to be devoured, but I don’t heed it because, hell, baby, eat me all up and make me mush, I think.
“I like that. It’s not a common name. Special.”
Oh, I know this is flirting from a master. I hear his soft drawl and see the way his eyes go velvet soft when he looks at me. He hasn’t perved on anything below the neck yet, but it’s working, as if he’s already stroked my skin.
“Thanks. So, uh, you think they’ll let me in the class? Tiff says the instructor can be a hard-ass.”
“Oh, I think he’ll let you in, sweetheart. Who wouldn’t after seeing your neck? You wanna learn to defend yourself and not rely on the men in your life?”
“Absolutely. I think I have to or I may see my brother in jail come next week,” I say ruefully.
“Let’s go, then. Tiff! Getcha ass in that class, and stop messing around with the lump,” he calls, taking my hand to pull me behind him.
Tiffany groans her denial, but I see her kiss her man again and skip after us, throwing a kiss over her shoulder.
“Oh my God, Har, I haven’t seen him in like three days.”
“Tell someone who cares, little lady. Now get in position.”
<
br /> Oh man, oh man, I think when I follow Tiff and stand at her right, blinking when Harlan goes to the front of the class and waits for about ten others to stand to attention.
“Good evening, ladies. It’s good to see you all back here in one piece and not behind bars.”
We all laugh, me giggling nervously when he looks straight at me and smiles.
“We have a late recruit this fine Monday night. Please welcome Mika. As you can already see, Mika has had some trouble of the stupid variety and she needs some help learning to defend herself. What is our motto?”
“Be prepared, never be scared!”
They yell it like a mantra, and I find myself looking around the room and seeing a variety of women. Some short and a little on the rounder side, some thin and tall. One woman is so tiny I have the urge to take a picture and show Lynx that Teeny is no longer the smallest female I know.
“That’s right. In any situation, it is always a good idea to be prepared. Your opponent will be big, small, fat, muscular. He will be an unknown face with unknown capabilities. If you can’t run, what do you do?”
“Stand and use his own strength against him!”
“That’s right. How do we use his strength against him?”
“Never panic, and always be prepared!”
He keeps asking questions, and by the time he’s done, the women are amped and ready to take a fighting stance. The class is really advanced. I can tell when one woman tosses a teaching assistant twice her size to the mat, his crow of approval making me smile because any other man would be pissed, but these guys all seem to take delight in watching a weaker female take them down.
“Good, Harriet! That is excellent. Now, Mika, it’s your turn.”
I’m sweating bullets when he stands right in front of me and raises his hands. He is so big and brawny the first instinct I have is to turn and run, but he shakes his head and narrows his eyes.
“Running is only an option if you know you can get away. See here? There’s one exit, and dead to rights your attacker will be covering it the way I am. Turn and run, and you will box yourself in. So, what do you do?”
I gulp and look around at the faces watching me, my nerves screaming at me even though I know this isn’t a real attack situation.
“Fight?”
“No! You stand your ground and assess your attacker. Assess me. Tell me what you see,” Harlan barks, making my heart pound in a stuttering pulse.
“You’re too big.”
“Bullshit. I’m big.”
“What else?”
“You, uh, you’re muscular.”
Way too strong-looking for a girl like me to ever take down, I think miserably, watching him shift around me and feeling anxious when he comes around me, circling me.
“I am. That makes me a big, bulky target, Mika. I may have height and weight on you, but you have speed. So, what do you do?” he asks again.
My mind races because with every circle around my body, I want to run and hide. I can’t do this! Just look at me. I don’t even reach his shoulder, and he’d squash me like a bug with one slap.
“I don’t know.”
“No! You don’t ever look at an attacker and falter. You know. You just don’t want to say it. What do you do?”
“Attack?” I manage weakly, hating that everyone’s watching me, seeing how weak I am.
“Wrong, Mika. You don’t ever attack a bigger target unless it’s your only option. You wait. First rule, don’t let him get behind you. Sure, I know you’re thinking that once he’s not covering the exit you can run, but the truth is you won’t make it before he’s on you, and that’s bad. You don’t want eyes off him. What do you do?”
“Wait?” I mumble, breathing through my nose before letting my breath out slowly.
“You wait. Big guys are cocky and arrogant. He will come at you after a bit, never doubt that, and when he does…”
“Take him by surprise!” they all yell.
He comes at me then, and I react as if on cue, slamming my hand out blindly. Harlan grabs it, twists me, and pulls me into his chest, his arms trapping mine.
His heat wraps around me instantly, and though I struggle to get free, all I accomplish is getting a load of him under those sweatpants, the feel of his man’s body making my own still and tense against him.
“Don’t go for the most obvious attack. I’m too tall for you to get to my face or eyes the first time. Go for the knees or balls. The aim is to get your target to become smaller.”
He releases me again, and I face off with him, shaking inside when he comes at me again. This time I surprise him because I don’t do what he expects and go for any of his weaker parts.
I leap, just like Lyon once taught me, and land on his chest, my momentum and speed making him stumble back a step and wobble. Then I go down and swipe a leg out.
He goes down hard, and I have a knee pressed to his nuts as I straddle him and mock jab at his eyes. I don’t hurt him because that’s not the aim here, but I feel good when he lays there panting and grins up at me, showing his respect.
“Good girl. Someone’s taught you something before.”
I smile because, yes, I have had some training, when I allow Lyon’s nagging to finally wear me down. Now that I think about it, I do know how to defend myself in a pinch, and knowing that makes me feel stronger when I pull away and stand, stepping back while Harlan rolls to his feet.
The other women are all grinning at me, and the assistant gives me a thumbs-up.
“Good. That was good, but this time I want you to come at me with more fear. You’re not afraid of me, and that’s good, but if you are attacked, you’ll be hopped up on fear and adrenalin. Your responses will be shaky, and you’ll instinctively go for the worst part on a man. Let’s see how it plays out.”
Predictably, it doesn’t work, and I scowl when he takes me down this time, my victory of moments before melting away like ice on the pavement.
“But you expected that!”
“Yeah, and so will other men. I want you to feel what it feels like to be taken down, Mika. Now that you’re down, what do you do?”
I take a minute to think about it because I was just attacked myself, and he’s right. Fear made me panic. I’m a little panicked now, to tell the truth, because he is huge and could hurt me so easily.
“Eyes?” I ask, not at all sure what I could do if a man his size pinned me.
“Good. What else?”
I think again, aware that I am being watched, that Tiff is looking at me and expecting something when, honestly, I have no clue. And that, I realize, is what happens to most women when they’re taken down.
Panic, fear, desperation would have most women grabbing for a man’s hands when they’re down and trapped beneath a few hundred pounds of aggressive male.
“Balls?”
“Excellent! Any man would expect you to go for his hands to try and stave off further attack. He’ll go for your throat or try to hit you. Daze you. Don’t fall for it, not even when your mind tells you to. You attack him, not his actions,” Harlan says, coming to his feet in a graceful roll and giving me a hand up.
We keep practicing for another hour, and by the time we’re done, I am covered in sweat but feeling amped on my own achievements. This feeling won’t last long. I know it, but it’s bittersweet because for this moment I feel in control and as if I can beat the odds in one area of my life.
Chapter Seven
Mika
I’m trembling as I sit in the cool office of one Doctor Forbes and wait for him to come in, my mind going in a million different directions as the minutes tick by slowly, and all I have to stare at is a breast cancer poster warning of the signs to look out for when performing a self-examination.
I do one of those once a week, my sex ed class and the doctors words a constant drumbeat in my head since I walked out of the hospital with warnings never to feel as if I’m free of the dreaded rogue cells.
I really do not need to see
the words though because they only make my heart beat harder with the what-ifs I’ve been carrying around for a week. He finally comes in after another ten minutes of interminable waiting, and I feel my heart sink when he takes his seat and looks at me somberly.
“It’s back?” I breathe, swallowing the lump that’s been in my throat since I woke up this morning.
I had the CT and blood work and so many other tests I feel like a pin cushion, and now, here I am to get the results, and words I’ve played out over and over again in my head.
In the first one, I get to see him smile and give me a high-five and lollipop before I skip out of the hospital amidst musical-esque singing from the staff, my own voice strangely sweet as opposed to the off-key wails I am capable of.
In that one, I’m singing Britney Spears’s Stronger and the nurses are grinding and twerking in their scrubs.
In the other scenario, I see him look at me just as he is now and shatter my world apart.
“Your counts are high, Mika. We need to check on something we caught on your scans.”
“What is it?” I ask, needing everything because not knowing it all makes it worse.
Mom and Dad tried to keep the severity of my cancer away from me at first, but all that did was make me anxious and certain that I was dying fast.
Knowing makes me stronger, and as the words filter through my head, I smile because that thought is so much Harlan that I feel better in a way. He’s strong and smart and sexy, and I trust his words. He’s right. Be prepared.
“We saw something on one of your fallopian tubes that has us concerned. We need to get in there and test for cancerous cells,” he says softly, almost kindly, because I am not holding up well despite the clenched lips and the determination not to cry.
This is it, then, huh? I’ve spent years being afraid of something, and it’s finally here? Oh God. I don’t think I can deal with all of this. Not the attack and subsequent move to be more independent and strong in the face of adversity, not the growing attraction I have for Harlan that has turned my life upside down at a time when I need calm. Definitely not having to face the possibility of being sick again.
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