My head clouded from lack of oxygen, my vision graying at the edges.
There’s always a way out, Grady.My professor’s voice invaded my thoughts like I was rolling with him at this very moment instead of ten years ago. There had to be some muscle memory left from my Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Krav Maga training.
I gripped Craig’s wrists and yanked them outward while simultaneously ramming my knee into his groin. His grip broke, and he folded.
Not willing to take chances, I shoved off the hood, wrapped an arm around his neck from behind, and squeezed. He didn’t fight back, and within seconds, went to sleep.
Breathing hard, I lowered his heavy body into the grass.
Hot-white pain exploded at the back of my skull. I swayed and collapsed onto all fours. The grass and dirt felt cold under my hands.The other guy. Baseball bat.
A foot stomped down on my back, flattening me to the ground. I groaned.
Get up! He’s gonna kill you. Then he’ll go after Harley and—
A growl ripped from the depths of my lungs. I rolled over with my back to the guy, and as I did, swung my right leg and kicked my heel into his. Swept his leg from under him.
Thud.He hit the grass next to me.
I pounced. Slapped a rear naked choke on him. The guy clawed at my arm. Tried to reach for my face. Then he went limp.
Head pounding and throat burning, I stumbled to my feet. Had to get out of here. Who knew how many more of them were nearby.
I was halfway to the F-150 when Harley hopped out the cab and stormed to me. “Are you okay?” Her question was laden with worry.
“We gotta leave.” I made a spinning motion to Matt, urging him on to fire up the engine.
He did. Harley and I climbed back into the cab, and a moment later, we rolled up the incline and onto the road. I leaned my head against the headrest, suppressing the groan that wanted out. My whole body burned. The first and only time I’d taken a beating like this had been thirteen years ago.
“What on earth was that?” Matt asked after several miles of silence. His voice shook. “The guy tried to punch in my window.”
“They were drunk.” This was Harley’s story to tell, so that’s all I offered.
She remained uncharacteristically quiet.
“What did you do to them?” Matt demanded.
“Choked them out. They’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t know you could fight like that.”
I closed my eyes. “Trained Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Krav Maga in my teens.”
“Just because?” This from Harley.
The occasional streetlamp zoomed by. Every pothole we hit felt like someone stabbed a knife into the back of my skull.
I glanced at her. “We had a family dinner in the city once. I was unwell, so I pestered my sister until she agreed to drive me home. At fourteen, I couldn’t drive myself. She, on the other hand, was eighteen. We had to walk through a dark alley to get to her car.” My gut revolted at the memory that had dramaticallychanged my life. “Five guys materialized out of nowhere. Beat me up. Pinned her down and . . .” I swallowed hard. “They made me watch her getting gang raped.”
Harley sucked in a sharp breath.
“Kimball refused to tell our parents,” I pushed on, wanting to get this story over with. “Made me swear to keep my mouth shut. I did. Didn’t talk at all for an entire year. Our parents sent me to a mental institution. My silence pushed the therapists to their limits. What got me talking again were BJJ and Krav Maga.” I’d trained like a maniac, swearing to myself I’d never be helpless like that again. Never let a woman get hurt again.
But the guilt still lingered. Guilt over nagging until Kimball agreed to drive me home. Guilt over being too weak to help her.
Something warm brushed my knuckles, causing me to flinch. Harley slowly uncoiled my fingers I had dug into the polyester seat and interwove them with hers.
My heart thumped as warmth spread through me. I made no move to pull away. Not even when she leaned over, her shoulder pressing into my arm, our thighs touching. It was like her silent comfort reached into my soul and soothed whatever part of me had broken in that dark alley.
