by Elle Casey
“Hey! I wasn’t ready!”
“Always be ready.”
He’s practically staring holes in me right now, and I’m really glad I have the arm protectors on.
“Remember the acronym B-E-D-S,” he says, taking some steps to the side.
I counter his moves in the opposite direction. “Beds?”
“Yes. BEDS. Those are your defensive options. Block. Evade. Deflect. And Strike.”
I say them a few times in my head. “Okay. Got it. Beds.”
“Readdyyyyyy . . . block!” He comes at me with his stick overhead.
“Ack!” I duck down and hold my stick up horizontally without conscious thought. His stick cracks down on top of it, rattling my arm bones.
“Good! Do it again! Block! ” His stick comes at me once more.
I block him again, only without screaming this time.
“Excellent! Evade! ” He swings the stick at me sideways and I jump out of the way. He’s moving too fast for me to think and decide what to do next. I’m just functioning on instinct right now.
“Perfect! Here I come again!”
I jump again but put the stick down too. His weapon hits it hard.
“Hey! That would have hurt!” I yell, getting mad that he’s playing so seriously.
“Better not get hit, then.” He’s prowling around the mat, looking for a chance to come after me.
My heart is beating like crazy as I wave my weapon around. Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving. A part of me wants to run out of the warehouse screaming, but the rest of me wants to teach him a lesson. How dare he teach me like this? What happened to the wax-on-wax-off method? The karate kid didn’t start off kicking people on his first day.
“What’s deflect!” I yell, trying to distract him from the kill.
“A mix of evade and block. Meet the stick but send it off in a nonlethal direction with its own force.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. The panic is rising up in me. I’m sure he’s about to attack again. If I vomit on my opponent, do I win?
“What about the last one?” I ask, my breath coming in gasps. “Strike?”
“That one’s self-explanatory,” he growls. And then he comes for me, stick raised.
I step to the side and meet his stick as it comes down, trying to make it bounce off to the side. Instead, it comes the other way and hits my shoulder.
“Owww! That hurt, goddammit!” I nearly trip on myself trying to get away from him. My striking arm feels dead now. I can barely raise my weapon.
“Say goodnight,” Dev says, circling around and stepping toward me.
I lift my weapon up to thigh level and put my other hand on top of it, making a big letter T. “Time out!”
“No time outs! Just death to the loser!” He lets out a really loud war cry and comes for me.
I drop my right arm and throw the stick into that hand.
Dev’s arm is above him as he prepares to take a swing designed to bring me down.
I swing the singlestick now in my right hand at his ribs as hard as I can.
The look on his face when I make contact is comical.
Shock. Pain. Anger. Pain again.
I jump out of the way as he trips on his own feet and goes down to the mat. His singlestick drops from his hand and rattles across the concrete floor as he curls into a ball.
“Ohhh shit,” he moans, “I think you cracked my rib.”
I lean on my singlestick, bent over trying to catch my breath. I don’t know how much of my inability to breathe is from the workout and how much is from being scared to death. I can’t believe I just did that.
“Sorry,” I huff out between respirations.
“Don’t apologize.” He groans a few times. “Dammit, did I see you switch hands?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell . . . are you ambidextrous?”
I cringe. “A little?”
He moans and then he starts laughing. Then he moans some more. “Oh, shit, that hurts.”
The door above the stairs opens, and Ozzie comes down with Thibault. When they see us below, they pick up the pace, jogging across the floor to where we are.
“What happened?” Thibault asks.
“He says I cracked one of his ribs.”
Thibault has to turn around so Dev won’t see him smiling.
Ozzie crouches down and puts his hand on Dev’s shoulder. “Can you get up?”
“With a little help from my friends,” he says. His voice expresses his pain very clearly, making me feel even worse.
“I’m so sorry, Dev. Really. I shouldn’t have hit you so hard.”
He leans up with Ozzie’s help. “Don’t apologize.” He holds his hand on his ribs. “That was awesome. Told you . . . perfect cover.” He winces as he tries to move.
“Hospital?” Thibault asks Ozzie.
“Get him up first. Let me take a look.” Together they get Dev on his feet. It’s not an easy job since he’s at least a full foot taller than Thibault. Ozzie does most of the work. He runs his hands gently over Dev’s rib cage.
Dev stands slightly hunched over, still wincing.
“What happened, man?” Thibault asks him.
“She tricked me.”
My jaw drops open. “Tricked you? I did no such thing.” I point my stick at him. “He just jumped right into the training! No wax on, wax off, nothing—just whack, whack, whack! Block, evade, defend . . .”
“Deflect, not defend,” Dev says.
“Whatever! You came at me too fast! I didn’t have a choice.” I drop my gaze to the mat. I feel guilty. Why, I don’t know, since I was just defending myself. I’m just glad I didn’t have a Taser handy. I would have electrocuted him and whacked him with my stick.
“What’s going on?” Toni asks from the top of the stairs.
“Bo Peep got the drop on Dev,” Thibault explains.
Toni shakes her head in disgust and walks back into the room upstairs.
Great. Just what I needed—Toni pissed at me for this too.
“I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m fine. I think it’s just bruised.” He stands up straight and then immediately bends a little again. “Maybe.”
Ozzie points to the warehouse door. “Get it X-rayed.”
Dev shuffles off, but he looks over his shoulder as best he can when he’s a few feet away. “Keep the stick. Practice. You won’t get so lucky a second time.”
“I’ll drive him,” Thibault says. He walks over to me and puts his hand on my upper arm. “Well done. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You won fair and square.”
I try to smile, but it comes out more like I have stomach pains. “Thanks, Thibault.”
He winks. “Don’t mention it. It’s not often we see the giant brought to his knees.”
I try not to feel proud about being the one who did it, but it’s kind of hard when he calls Dev a giant. He is pretty big. Our fight probably looked like the legendary David and Goliath death match.
I catch Ozzie watching me when Thibault is getting into the car with Dev.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head, his expression a mystery. “Nothing.”
“Can I go home now?” I say, almost pleading. I look over at my Sonic. “I need a shower, I need to change clothes, and I’m tired of all this fighting stuff.”
He walks over and puts his hand on the back of my neck, leaning down to look me in the eye. “Your home is here now, remember?”
I blink a few times but don’t reply. Mixed emotions overwhelm me. I’m happy, scared, and sad all at the same time. I think it’s possible I’m PMS-ing. “Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
“Go on up. Do whatever you need to do. The afternoon briefing starts in an hour.”
I nod. He’s probably going to want to review what I saw on the tapes today, so I guess my day isn’t over yet. I walk over to my car, but only to put the singlestick inside. I’ll practice later when I’m gone from here. Maybe I’ll have time to g
o see Jenny. She’ll get a kick out of the primitive weapon, and I know for a fact that Sammy will want to hit some trees or lawn furniture with it.
Getting up the stairs is an adventure. I have to use the railing to pull myself up. I’ve definitely overdone it. No sex for me tonight.
How is Ozzie going to feel about that? Does he expect sex from me now? Is he thinking about it too, the way I have been all day? He’s probably way cooler about it than I am. I’m sure he can handle working and living with me without losing his mind, unlike me.
Emotions rise up and start to overwhelm me. What in the hell am I doing here? I can’t live with Ozzie! I can’t get into stick fights with coworkers! This is ridiculous! I’m a wedding photographer, for God’s sake!
I pull my phone out of my pocket when I reach the top of the stairs and pull the door open. I need some sister therapy, stat.
Jenny picks up on the second ring, thank goodness. “Hello, little sister! What’s up?”
I walk through the kitchen without saying anything to Toni. “Just calling to chat.” I wait until I’m in the bedroom with the door shut before I start to cry.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Hey, hey, hey, what’s up with the tears?” she asks, making me cry harder. Whenever she acts like my momma, that’s what happens. Total boober baby, every time.
I talk around the weeping. “I don’t know. I just needed to hear your voice and have you tell me I’m not being a stupid idiot over here.”
“Over where, honey?”
She doesn’t know what happened last night and I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t tell her. She’ll make me move into her house, and I can’t do that. If there is a threat against me—which I highly doubt there is—I can’t bring it into her home. She really is a soccer mom. Or she will be when one of her kids decides to start playing that sport.
“I’m at work,” I explain.
“Why are you crying at work? Were they mean to you?”
I laugh through the tears. “No, they weren’t mean. They’re very nice.” Except for Toni, but we won’t mention her.
“So what’s the deal? Are you on your period?”
“No.” I wipe my nose with my hand and then look around for a tissue. I pull one from a box on the nightstand. “I spent the night here and had massive sex with Ozzie.”
“Whoa. Massive sex? Is that different than regular sex?”
“Duh. Obviously.” She’s already got me smiling. Tears are still coming, but at least I’m not sobbing anymore.
“Okay, so why is that making you cry?”
I sigh, trying to push through the sorrow. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Uhhhh, yeah?”
“I mean without you freaking out on me.”
There’s a three-second pause before she responds. “Did you do anal sex? Is that what this is about?”
“Jennifer Alexandria Wexler! No! That’s not what this is about!” When I get over my shock, I laugh again. She’s nuts.
“Okay, then what is it? Geez.” She giggles too.
I can’t explain to her why I’m upset if she doesn’t know the whole story. I hate that I have to tell her anything that might make her worry, but I don’t have a choice. I need advice because I don’t trust myself to make the right decision on my own. My heart is biased in favor of Ozzie.
“Last night my house alarm went off. There was an intruder on the property.”
“Oh no.” Her laughter stops, replaced by concern.
“Ozzie was with me. He handled the call to the alarm company after he made sure no one was there, but he said I needed to come to his place and stay until he could figure out what was going on.”
“Sure he did.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“It’s not a joke, Jen.”
“No, of course not. I’m glad there wasn’t anyone trying to break in and that Ozzie was there for you. Continue.”
“One thing led to another and we had sex. Twice.”
“Hmmm . . .”
“And it was really, really good.”
“No anal, though, eh?”
“Stop!” I laugh again. I can’t help it. It’s way better than crying, anyway.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Anyway . . . today was just my second day of work. So there I am, working with him, the whole time thinking about what we did last night.”
“As I’m sure he was.”
“How do you know that?”
“How could he not? Men think about sex over a hundred times a day. Or is it a thousand? I can’t remember. Anyway, it’s a lot. And you don’t think he was reliving those moments with you? Imagining all the ones he wants to have in the future? Please. The guy probably had a raging hard-on all day long.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. He did. Trust me. He’s probably imagining you bent over the toilet right now.”
“Wow. That’s sexy.”
“You have no idea what’s sexy to a man. They’re sick puppies.”
“I’m starting to get scared about how you know all this.”
“What can I say? Miles talked too much.”
“Ew. Not all men are like Miles.”
“Yes, they are. They all are. So what else? Why are you crying?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s your period. Has to be.”
“No, it’s not. I think it’s just . . . overwhelming. I changed jobs just days ago, started working with a team of really nice but slightly crazy people, I’m sleeping with my new boss—living in his house, for God’s sake. My dog is in love with his dog . . . it’s crazy! Nuts! Who does this kind of stuff?!”
“That does sound a lot more interesting than my life. You know what I did today?”
“No. What did you do today?” I wipe my nose again and let out a big sigh. I’m feeling better already.
“I removed a hairball from my shower drain that was the size of a baseball.”
“Ew.” I can totally picture it. My sister has really long, thick hair. “That’s disgusting, Jen. I’m so not glad you told me that.”
“I thought about mailing it to Miles, but then I didn’t.”
“Probably a good move. We wouldn’t want him having you declared legally insane.”
“If he doesn’t come get these kids from me this weekend, he’s going to learn all about legally insane, trust me.”
“If he doesn’t show, I will.” I go all warm thinking about my sister and her kids. At least some things never change. I can always count on them for love bundled up in a whole lot of noise.
“And what does the man in your life think of all this?” Jenny asks.
“The man in my life? What man?”
“Felix.”
“Oh.” I picture him and Sahara sleeping together. “He’s in love with Ozzie’s dog. He doesn’t even sleep with me anymore.”
“Wow. That is serious.”
“I know.”
“I think you should trust Felix’s judgment.”
“Really?” It’s kind of crazy, but that makes a lot of sense to me. Felix has never let me down.
“I don’t know. Don’t dogs have a sixth sense about people?”
I think about it for a second. “He does have his preferences.”
“He hated that one boyfriend of yours, remember?”
I snort. “How can I forget? The guy was a felon, a fact he neglected to mention when I first met him.”
“Good thing your sister is a computer wiz who can do background checks.”
I smile. “Saved my butt again.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here for you. Always.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“So you’re going to stick this out?” she asks.
I nod, feeling way more confident about it than I was ten minutes ago. “I am. I’m worried I’m going to get my heart destroyed when he figures out we’re really not all that compatible, but until then, I guess I’ll just enjoy myself.”
/> “Yeah, do that. Great idea. You can’t live life always worried about what might happen tomorrow.”
“That’s pretty much what he said.”
“See? He’s obviously very smart. When are you going to bring him around to meet the kids?”
“Can I? Should I? Isn’t it too soon?”
“I don’t see how it can be too soon if you’re sleeping with him. I guess it means you’re serious about him, and that’s what matters.”
“Maybe I’m just sleeping with him because I’m wild and free and live life by the seat of my pants.”
“Yeah, right. How long did it take your last boyfriend to get in your pants?”
“Four months.”
“Exactly. Obviously this Ozzie guy is different. Bring him over tomorrow if you feel like it. I have the lasagna already made.”
I chew my lip, considering the offer. “I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Listen, Sammy’s been quiet too long, so I’d better go. He’s probably beheading all his sister’s dolls again.”
“Wow. That’s not freaky at all.”
“He’s a boy.” She sighs. “Boys are so different from girls.”
“Okay, better go lock him up. Thanks, Jenny. I really appreciate you putting up with my mania.”
“It’s not mania. You’re just being a girl, and you’re allowed to act like one.”
“Love you.”
“Love you more! Bye!” She hangs up before I can respond.
Dammit. I hate when she wins the love-you-more game so easily.
I send a quick text before shutting my phone off.
Me: Love you more! Ha!
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
I use a wet washcloth to erase the signs of my breakdown, and then I return to the kitchen with renewed vigor and determination, joining Ozzie and Toni at the table. Lucky comes in as Ozzie starts to talk and sits next to me.
“Did either of you get any data today worth discussing?” Ozzie’s addressing Toni.
“Not sure. I wrote a few things down.” She pulls a legal pad out of a folder and runs her finger down the page. “I think someone must have opened a window at some point, because I started picking up conversations inside the house too, I think.”
