Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“I’ll stay here if that’s okay? Do you want me to make dinner while you’re gone?”
I nod and smile. Fuck, that just made my dick hard. Just the thought of her being here when I get back, dinner ready, going to bed together afterward. I never want this to end. I want her to stay here with me forever.
“That’s perfect. I’m not sure what time I’ll be back, but it won’t be too late.”
“It’s okay, take your time. I’ll still be here, studying, most likely.” She smiles at me, and I feel that smile in my bones. I always want to see her smiling, happy, and content like she is right now. Saying goodbye, I head out the door with my gym bag in my hand.
On the drive, my thoughts drift away, and I wonder what type of abuse she endured beyond that horrible physical shit I saw. Emotional had to be there, too. Was there something worse? Something even darker? It doesn’t matter, no one deserves to have any of that from their parents, a friend, another fucking human. It doesn’t matter who they were to her, they shouldn’t have hurt her. Gripping the steering wheel, I feel completely defeated for a moment. I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know how to earn her trust, and I get the sense that might never happen, but I’ll be damned if I fucking give up.
When I get to Iron Fist and walk in, I wave at Dex and head to the locker room. Dex is one of the other trainers, though my least favorite. He pushes people too hard. Screams and belittles them on the regular. I had enough of that shit in boot camp to last me a lifetime. I don’t want to have to listen to that. Some people like to sign up for that shit, but I will never know fucking why. Stupid. That’s not how you train people, at least not in my book.
Once inside the locker room, I change into some workout clothes and grab a towel and a bottle of water before I head out. There is ten minutes before the start of class, but it seems everyone is here already. I enter the central ring, the only one completely fenced but also the largest, and raise my hand to signal the start of class. Quickly, the students gather in front of me in a loose group. There are men and women, some smiling, some just looking straight ahead with an eagerness to learn.
“Let’s go! Make a circle, make a circle. If you are here for the Krav Maga defense class, it is time to huddle up.”
The group adjusts to build the line, making a circle with me. When they’re settled, and I have their complete attention, I lower my hand and look them in the eye, one by one.
“Krav Maga is a military system of self-defense and fighting designed for the Israeli defense forces.” I raise my voice for the next part. I want the pansies and wannabe karate masters to hear this and self-select out. “It is known for its application using real-world situations. Which means, my delicate little flowers, you will not be having fun. You will not be play-fighting. You will not earn a belt for best attendance. You will be trained for safety first. You will learn how to protect yourself and others before you learn combat. You will cry, sweat, and likely bleed before the next 30 days is up,” I pause long enough to point to the cage door, “if you have a problem with that, please, get the fuck out of our way. I’m only here for the badasses.”
I survey the students, knowing at least one of them is going to tap out.
“Okay, here is the deal. Anyone who utters the word ‘can’t’ exits. No questions. No crying in baseball. No, ‘oops, I didn’t mean to say that.’ ‘Can’t’ is now your safeword. Use it wisely. You won’t get to use it twice.”
I look around one last time and see no one walking toward the door.
“All right then, today you are a pussy. Tomorrow, if you survive, you become a student. If you are in agreement, say it loud and proud and clap it out. What are you?”
Without exception, they yell, “PUSSIES!”
I nod and get them started.
After some basic safety exercises, I put them through their paces on the simple maneuvers. Then we progress to the most advanced techniques in hyper slow motion, which is absolutely fucking painful for someone without the right muscle development. I want them sore. So sore tomorrow that we weed out the weakest temperaments, saving all of us from some weepers. They have no clue how hard this class is. But they will. I only want the best, the ones that want to be here. I’m not about wasting my time on those that don’t give a fuck.