“Exactly.” Jimmy adjusts his grip, taking hold of my arm. “An elbow strike to the face can be devastating. Like this.” Heguides my arm through the motion, explaining how to generate maximum force with minimal effort.
As we practice, Ryder’s voice cuts through the air. “Put some power into it, Cora. Jimmy can take it.”
I shoot Ryder a glare. “Mind your own business, peanut gallery.”
Jimmy chuckles, then continues his instruction. “The neck is another prime target, though not always accessible. The key is to be adaptable.”
We run through a series of movements designed to break holds and create distance from an attacker. By the time we pause, I’m breathless but exhilarated.
“Not bad,” Ryder comments, approaching us with a hint of approval in his eyes.
A warm flush of pride spreads through me at his words.
Jimmy nods. “The goal is to make these reactions instinctive. When you’re in danger, you won’t have time to think—you’ll need to act.” His gaze intensifies. “But remember, Krav Maga isn’t just about memorizing moves. It’s about developing the mindset to handle any situation, even ones you haven’t trained for. Does that make sense?”
I nod, stealing another glance at Ryder. His face remains impassive, but there’s a glimmer of something—interest or concern, maybe—in his dark eyes.
“Want to try what you’ve learned now on our guy here?” Jimmy calls out.
“Uh... I don’t think so,” I stammer.
Jimmy’s eyes narrow. “Remember what we talked about, Cora? Krav Maga isn’t just about physical techniques. It’s about pushing past your mental barriers.”
I glance at Ryder, my pulse quickening. Fear isn’t the onlyreason I’m hesitant to grapple with him. Or maybe it is. Just not the kind of fear Jimmy’s thinking of.
“She’s not ready,” Ryder says. “It’s only her first lesson.”
Something in his tone ignites a spark of defiance in me. I narrow my eyes, planting my hands on my hips. “I’m always ready,” I declare, jutting my chin out.
Jimmy grins. “Now that’s what I like to hear!”
Ryder’s lips twitch, and I realize too late that I’ve fallen right into his trap. Damn him.
Before I can reconsider, Ryder’s in motion. One second, he’s across the room, and the next, he’s behind me, his hands at my throat. The suddenness of it all sends me reeling.
He applies the gentlest pressure, but it’s enough. Panic explodes in my chest.
I’m not in the gym anymore.I’m back in that alley, a stranger’s hands crushing my windpipe. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.
I gasp for air.God. No.
He releases me right away. “Cora?” Ryder’s voice sounds far away. “Cora, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head, unable to form words. Tears blur my vision as I sink to the mat.
I curl into myself, trying to make myself as small as possible. Maybe if I'm small enough, I'll disappear. Maybe then I'll be safe.
Time loses all meaning. I don't know how long I sit there, trapped in my own personal hell. But slowly, so slowly, reality starts to seep back in.
I become aware of the gym mat beneath me, so different from the rough alley pavement. I hear the distant thrum of pop music, not the menacing silence of that night. I smell the clean scent of the gym, a world away from the alley's stench.
And I sense Ryder beside me, a steady presence. Not touching, but close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body.
I take a shaky breath, then another. Each one comes a little easier than the last. I uncurl, lifting my head.
“Shit,” Ryder mutters, his expression worried. “I’m so sorry. I should have warned you.”
“The mugger,” I choke out between sobs. “He... he grabbed me like that. I thought I was going to die.”
