The Girl Who Cried Murder. Пола Грейвс

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СКАЧАТЬ groin. Foot to the instep or the knee. Fingers to the eyes or heel of the hand to the cartilage of the nose.” There were soft groans at the images those words invoked. “Those are all vulnerable targets on an attacker, true. But how easy is it for a small person to do damage to a larger person, even targeting those areas? That’s what we’re going to experiment with today.”

      Charlie realized he’d paired people up by size, small with large. At the moment, most of the larger people in the pairings were looking around with alarm.

      Mike nodded toward the side of the room, where a man stood in the doorway next to what looked like a large laundry bin. “This is Eric Brannon. He’s a doctor. I thought y’all might want him to stick around for this.”

      Eric grinned. Charlie’s classmates didn’t.

      “He’s also got some equipment to hand out.”

      Eric reached into the bin and pulled out something that looked like a cross between a life jacket and a catcher’s chest guard. He handed it to the man standing closest to him and continued through the other students, passing out padding to the larger of each pair.

      Eric stopped before giving anything to Mike. Charlie looked up at the instructor, one eyebrow arched.

      Mike grinned back at her, then turned to the class. “We’re going to start with the first thing you need to know how to deal with—someone grabbing you.”

      Without warning, he reached out and wrapped his arm around Charlie’s shoulders, pulling her back hard against his chest.

      She gasped, caught entirely flat-footed, and began struggling on instinct. His grip tightened and he lifted her off her feet.

      Her vision seemed to darken around the edges, sight becoming a single pinpoint of light as anger fought with panic.

      Damn it, Charlie. Do something!

      She was back in a darkened alley outside the Headhunter Bar. The world was tilted and spinning, like she was stuck on a merry-go-round twirling at an impossible rate of speed. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

      She kicked her heel backward, hitting his shin with a glancing blow that didn’t even elicit a grunt. His grip tightened. Clawing at his rock-hard arms with her fingers had no effect at all. She stamped her heel down on his foot, but his boots were hard and her foot glanced off, which was probably the only thing that saved her from a broken foot of her own.

      I’m sorry, Charlie, but I have to do the rest of this by myself. Alice’s whispered words rang in her ears, clarity in a world of insanity.

      She stopped struggling, and the grip on her shoulders loosened. The world seeped back in brilliant light and color, and panic won over anger. She dropped her whole weight downward, slipping from his grip, and rolled as hard as she could into his knee. The move sent Mike sprawling to the mat, and Charlie scrambled to her feet and ran for the door, her whole body rattling with the need to escape at all costs.

      Eric Brannon caught her arm, pulling her to a jerky halt. She was about to fight when she realized he was smiling at her.

      She made herself stop running. It was just a class. Just a game, really.

      No dark alley. No woozy world. No whispers in her ear.

      “Nice job,” Eric murmured, his blue eyes bright with amusement.

      She looked at Mike, who was back on his feet. Unlike Eric, he wasn’t smiling. Instead, he was watching her with a knowing wariness that made her stomach twist. After a moment, however, his expression cleared and he motioned her over. “That was actually a pretty good example of one of the things we’re going to talk about today,” he said as she walked with reluctance to his side. “What Charlie did was to use deception to change her circumstances. The more she struggled, the tighter I held her. When she seemed to give up, to stop struggling, I loosened my grip. It’s a natural response—assailants can tire of the struggle as well, even if they’re considerably stronger and larger than their targets.”

      Charlie slanted him a skeptical look. He didn’t look as if he’d tired at all. She was pretty sure he could have held her in check a whole lot longer than he had.

      He met her gaze, his smile seemingly warm. But he was smiling only with his mouth. His green eyes were narrowed and still wary.

      “The other thing she did is what I’d like to address today,” he added. “As soon as she was in the position to do so, Charlie bowled me over. She used her full weight to catch me off balance and send me to the ground. And yet I outweigh her by at least eighty pounds. Probably more. Which goes to show, even if your assailant is larger than you, you have more leverage than you think.”

      Charlie wrapped her arms around her, feeling exposed and vulnerable. She edged back toward the wall as Mike Strong walked the rest of the students through an attacker’s vulnerable points and how to strike back at those areas more effectively.

      “Put your weight into everything you do. If you can hurt them, you’re that much closer to knocking them down and getting away. Now, I want the bigger partners to suit up and play the part of the attacker. Smaller partners, go after the pressure points. For now, avoid the nose and face. What I want you to practice is putting your full weight into everything you do. Turn your body into a weapon.”

      The rest of the group got started. There was a lot of noise, most of it self-conscious laughter. Charlie watched the others for a moment, until she felt Mike’s gaze on her.

      She looked at him. He was studying her as if she were some scientific experiment on display. Her cheeks, which had finally started to cool off, went hot again.

      She half expected him to ask her what the hell had happened when he grabbed her. Surely he’d seen that her panic had been real.

      But when he spoke, he asked, “Have you had any self-defense training before?”

      “I was a skinny freckled redhead in public school,” she answered, going for levity. “I had twelve years of self-defense training.”

      He smiled faintly. “Formal training?”

      “I’ve read a lot. Watched a lot of videos on the ’net.”

      “So you’ve done the mental work. Just not the physical.”

      “Something like that.”

      “I have an intermediate class that meets Tuesday and Thursday afternoons at four. Do you think you could make that class?”

      He thought she should go into an intermediate class? Why? She hadn’t exactly covered herself in glory so far.

      “I have a flexible work schedule,” she said finally, wondering just what an intermediate self-defense class would entail. “But I’m really just a beginner,” she added quickly. “I just got lucky earlier.”

      “That wasn’t luck. That was your instincts kicking in. You’ve internalized the lessons in your head. Now your body needs to learn how to do the things your brain has already processed. But there’s no need for you to start from the beginning when you’d be learning a lot more in an advanced class.”

      Charlie narrowed her eyes, not sure she trusted Mike Strong’s motives for wanting to move her out of the СКАЧАТЬ