Her breath catches. I'm close enough to smell her shampoo, something floral that doesn't belong out here. Close enough to feel the heat of her body through the flannel.
My shirt.
"Like this?" Her voice is slightly unsteady.
"Better." I force myself to step back, putting professional distance between us. "Now try again."
Her next grouping is tighter, more controlled. She's a quick learner when she's not being defensive.
"Good. Now move to the twenty-five-yard target. This is where most shooters fall apart."
She adjusts her aim and fires. Less precise but still respectable. I spend the next hour drilling her on different distances, different stances, shooting while moving, shooting from cover. By the end, her arms are shaking with fatigue, but her accuracy has noticeably improved.
"You have natural aptitude." I take the Glock from her and clear it. "With practice, you could be genuinely dangerous."
"I'm already genuinely dangerous." A spark of her usual fire. "Just usually with words instead of bullets."
"Words don't stop someone kicking down your door."
"No, but they put people behind bars. They build cases that destroy criminal empires." She meets my eyes, chin lifted. "Different weapon, same result."
I hold her gaze for a beat too long. She doesn't look away.
"Lunch," I say finally. "Then we work on hand-to-hand."
Her eyebrows rise. "You're going to teach me to fight?"
"I'm going to teach you to survive a fight long enough to get away or get to a weapon. There's a difference."
We eat a quick meal of sandwiches and fruit, then clear space in the cabin's main room. I push the furniture against the walls to create a makeshift training area. She stands in the center, looking equal parts nervous and determined.
"First rule of self-defense." I circle her slowly. "Don't fight if you can run. Your goal is never to win. Your goal is to escape."
"And if I can't run?"
"Then you make escape possible. Create distance. Disable, distract, do whatever it takes to get free."
I step closer, demonstrating basic defensive positions. How to protect your face and throat. How to lower your center of gravity. How to absorb a blow without going down.
"Now I'm going to grab you. I want you to break free using what I just showed you."
Her jaw tightens. "Okay."
I move slowly, giving her time to react, and wrap my hand around her wrist. She twists, pulling against my thumb like I taught her, and breaks my grip on the first try.
"Good. Again."
We run the drill several times, my grip getting stronger, her responses getting faster. She's a natural, her body learning the movements with surprising speed. But I can see fear flickering beneath the concentration. This isn't abstract for her. She's fought for her life twice already.
"Now something harder." I move behind her. "Someone grabs you from behind. What do you do?"
Before she can answer, I wrap my arms around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides. She goes rigid, breath coming fast.
"Don't panic. Think. Where am I vulnerable?"
She squirms against me, testing my hold. The movement presses her body against mine in ways that make professional thoughts impossible. Her ass against my groin. Her back against my chest.
Focus.
