I roll my eyes.
A muscle jumps in Ryder’s jaw, and I stifle a smile before turning and heading inside.
The gym looks exactly as I imagined. Thick gray mats cover the entire floor, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and determination. A boxing ring dominates the center while punching bags hang like strange fruit from the ceiling. On one side, wooden bleachers provide seating for dozens.
A man in his forties emerges from a side door, his muscular frame filling the doorway. He’s not as massive as Ryder, but the way he moves screams “dangerous.” His short hair is graying at the sides, and his blue eyes crinkle with warmth as he approaches.
“West, you son of a bitch!” he booms, engulfing Ryder in a bear hug that looks more like a wrestling hold. The sound of skin slapping skin echoes through the space. “Thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”
“Tried to,” Ryder grunts, returning the embrace with equal force. “Earth kept spitting me back out.”
Jimmy’s expression softens. “Heard what happened. I’m sorry, man.”
A shadow crosses Ryder’s face, there and gone in an instant. He gives a curt nod, and Jimmy turns his attention to me.
“So, you’re the one West here needs to toughen up?” His eyes twinkle with mischief.
I bristle at the implication. “I can kick someone in the balls if I need to,” I retort, demonstrating with a high kick that’s more enthusiastic than accurate.
Jimmy barks out a laugh. “I like her, West. She’s got fire.” He turns back to me. “Ready to start?”
I nod. Ryder walks over and sits on one bleacher. He’s going to watch me train? Seriously?
Jimmy positions me on the mat, his stance relaxed but alert. He launches into an explanation of Krav Maga that’s equal parts philosophy and combat tutorial.
“Krav Maga isn’t just another martial art,” he begins, his voice carrying a hint of reverence. “It’s a comprehensive fighting system designed for real-world self-defense. But before we get to the physical stuff, I need you to understand the principles behind it.”
I nod, curiosity piqued. “What kind of principles?”
“At its core, Krav Maga is about overcoming the fears and excuses that hold you back,” Jimmy explains, his eyes intense. “It’s not just about learning to throw a punch or break a hold. It’s about developing a mindset that applies to every challenge you face, in and out of combat.”
“So, it’s like...a life philosophy?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around the concept.
Jimmy grins. “Exactly. The habits and character traits you develop through Krav Maga can transform every aspect of your life—work, relationships, personal growth. It teaches you to assess threats, act decisively, and always prioritize your safety.”
I absorb his words, a mix of skepticism and intrigue swirling in my mind. “And you think I could take down someone Ryder’s size?” I cast a doubtful glance at my hulking bodyguard, who sits motionless on the sidelines.
“With proper technique, absolutely,” Jimmy assures me. “Size isn’t everything in Krav Maga. It’s about using your attacker’s strength against them.”
“Let’s see it, then,” I challenge, a spark of determination igniting within me.
Jimmy moves behind me, his muscular arms encircling my waist. “I’m grabbing you from behind. What’s your move?”
I struggle, pushing forward and trying to wriggle free, but it’s like fighting against a brick wall. Frustration builds as I attempt to pry his fingers loose, only to have him tighten his grip.
“Good effort,” Jimmy encourages as I pant from exertion. “But remember, you’re not trying to overpower me. Use my weaknesses against me.”
“Okay,” I breathe. “What should I do instead?”
“Remember that kick you mentioned earlier?” Jimmy prompts. “That’s a solid start. I’m a guy, after all. I have balls.”
From across the room, Ryder lets out a groan. We both glance his way, and I catch a flicker of amusement in his eyes before he schools his expression back to neutrality.
“How about you demonstrate that kick?” Jimmy suggests. “Just go easy on me. I’m not wearing a cup.”
I fold my leg back, mimicking the motion of a groin kick in slow motion. Jimmy nods. “Good. Now, let’s explore other vulnerable areas. Where else could you strike?”
“The face?” I venture.
