Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
"I was actually going to look into self-defense anyway. Before this thing with Duke even happened. One time getting my butt handed to me was more than enough for one lifetime. I had no idea how to fight back. It was terrifying. They could have easily, effortlessly really, killed me."
Lo nodded. "Yeah, believe me, I know. None of us were raised with the skills we have. I learned through classes and then through some of the men and women here who had military training. Janie learned from us. Summer did as well. And Maze learned from an ex-boxer, a private investigator with street fighting skills, and a Krav Maga instructor in the City. We all, save for maybe Janie, learned pretty late in life how to do it. So we are proof that it can totally be done if you put the effort in."
"I'm excited to start," I said honestly.
"Good. We can start as soon as Ashley looks you over again. She needs to make sure the ribs are better." My ribs were sore, but I had a feeling that was just because of the sex, not an indication that they were hurt more than we thought. "And she will wrap you up in gauze too just to make sure your stitches don't get messed up. We'll start with just footwork and avoiding punches until they come out. Then we can really have some fun."
Lo's idea of 'fun' was, really, just genuine torture.
There was no other way to put it.
She was one of the nicest, most giving, most awesome women I had ever met.
But that being said, when she put on her boss lady pants, yeah, she was like a fascist dictator trying to train an army to overtake their enemies.
I learned that fact about seven days after I moved into Hailstorm. My stitches had been taken out that morning by Ashley who declared, "You're going to scar like a bitch, but you're all closed up."
When Lo got wind of that, she showed up in the doorway of the medical ward which I had, very, very slowly started to see as home. It was just all so new. I wasn't used to the noise and the toys and the sounds of little kids having dreams. Actually, I just wasn't used to children at all. I had never really been around them.
That being said, Maze and Summer were always around, shooing kids onto other tasks when they thought they had been pestering me for too long and making sure I was never the one fetching food and drinks and whatever else the kids might need.
I was actually really starting to enjoy it.
There was nothing like sitting down with kids and building a Lego town or coloring pictures or listening to them tell their uniquely long, rambling stories that often seemed to have no real clear-cut end to them.
"Uh-oh," Summer said, holding her belly and smiling. "I know Instructor Lo when I see her." Then she turned to me and gave me a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry to inform you that for the next several days, lowering yourself down onto the toilet or bed is going to make every single muscle in your body scream in pain. That is if you don't have complete muscle failure and have your legs give out from under you and make you crash down onto the toilet or bed, that is."
"I would tell her to not scare you," Maze added with a shrug, "but she's really just preparing you for the inevitable. You will become acutely aware to just how many muscles your body has and exactly how much they can hurt. Have fun!"
Yeah, they weren't wrong.
I thought that, after having Lo teach me about foot work and dodging punches and stuff that I had an idea what I was getting into.
I didn't.
I was completely and utterly clueless.
Because Lo, having learned a varied set of fighting styles herself over the years, busted my ass from Brazilian Ju Jitsu to LINE training that is taught to the US Marines. And when that brought me to my knees, she wiped the floor with me with Krav Maga.
I was a boneless mass of flesh for the better part of a week.
But even being in pain and exhausted was no excuse to miss out on training. Not for a single day. So I was pulled out of bed and I was pounded on day after day after day.
And I hated it.
But at the same time, I didn't.
It hurt and it was hard and I failed a million times more than I succeeded.
"Failing is the most important part," Lo told me, whipping hair out of her face. "Failing lets you see where you are screwing up so you can learn to change that behavior so no one can use it against you."