Page 97 of Timelessly Ours
“Roundhouse kick,” I hear Nicole say through the glass windows as she lifts her foot high in a circular motion to an imaginary opponent, aiming it at his head.
“Damn.” I don’t realize I muttered the word out loud until a nearby parent turns his head.
Rory mimics the move, her foot only rising about halfway to the opponent's chest. Nicole nods and then sits her down on the mat with her. “Can you do a split?”
I’m in awe. In all the time I’ve known this woman, I never imagined how she might fit into the absent piece in our lives.
A piece I’m not even sure Rory and I knew was missing.
After their session, I don’t tell Nicole I’m taking them both to dinner. We drive back to town quietly since Rory fell asleep in the backseat.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
I glance at her. “I know the history of how you got into karate—from your brother. But what I’m curious about is why you stuck it out all these years.”
“I wanted to kick some butt, I guess. And not only is it allowed. It’s encouraged.” She laughs.
I nod. “Why did you really stick it out?”
She lowers her head. “You’re asking if I was afraid of being violated?”
“Self-defense is an obvious answer. But…so is pepper spray,” I point out.
She gazes out the window. “Aggression mostly. This place helped me control it physically, while my therapist helped me control it mentally. But the discipline and respect that goes along with martial arts is a big part of it too.”
“Yeah, because you’re so damn respectful,” I joke.
She chuckles. “Yeah, well, I skipped a few classes.”
I laugh.
“Want me to sign up for a refresher?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
“There were four of ‘em,” David tells me.
I’m in my bedroom returning a missed call from the police chief while Nicole reads Rory her bedtime story.
“Okay?”
“Three in prison. The last one never trialed, by the name of Kyle Johnson. Tried to start fresh—we’re keeping an eye on him.
“Keeping an eye? So, you know where he is?”
“We didn’t have enough to bring him in. Similar to Nicole’s story. Been brought in a few times, but nothing stuck. And hanging out with Frank Lidowski doesn’t count. At least not to a judge."
“Whereabouts?” I ask, testing my luck.
“Downtown.”
“Can you tell me where Johnson was seen specifically?” I need to make sure Nicole never sees any of these men again.
Even if they’re currently considered harmless.
A little under two years ago, when Nicole came face to face with Frank at his poor attempt at an apology, she suffered a severe anxiety attack. Luckily, she was under the care of her brother who made sure she was alright, but we didn’t see her again for some time.
I can’t let that happen again.
