"Yes. I moved here about two years ago. Saw a job opening and took it."
"From where?"
"A few towns over. I wanted somewhere smaller. Quieter."
"You didn't grow up here."
"No. Did you? Grow up anywhere, I mean."
"Pennsylvania," I say. "Small town. Left when I was eighteen. Joined up right out of high school."
"Your family still there?"
"No family," I say. "Not anymore."
"I'm sorry."
I shrug. It's an old wound, the kind that stopped bleeding years ago but never quite healed right. "It is what it is."
We sit in silence for a moment. It should be uncomfortable, this pause, this sitting on the floor of my gym with a student I can't stop thinking about fucking. But it's not. It's almost... easy.
"Why did you come here?" I ask. "Really. To the gym. For lessons."
"My ex," she confesses. "He won't leave me alone. He shows up places. Texts constantly. I don't know how he always knows where I am, but he does. And I—" She stops. Takes a breath. "I wanted to feel less afraid."
"He hurt you?"
"Not physically. Not yet. But I don't know if that's because he hasn't wanted to or because he hasn't had the opportunity."
"Have you gone to the police?"
"And say what? That my ex-boyfriend texts me too much? That he shows up at the grocery store when I'm shopping? They'll tell me to block his number. Get a restraining order maybe, if I'm lucky. And then what happens when he violates it?"
She's right. I know she's right. I've seen enough to know how this goes, how the system works, or doesn't work, for situations like this.
"How long?" I ask.
"Since we broke up? Three months. Since he started doing this? The same day I ended it."
Three months. She's been dealing with this for three months, and she's still showing up, still living her life, still trying to feel safe in a world that clearly isn't.
"I'll teach you," I say. "Everything I know. By the time we're done, he won't be able to touch you without regretting it."
Chapter 6 - Chloe
What is happening?
That's the only coherent thought my brain can form as I sit here on this mat, four feet away from Cole Steele, both of us sweating and breathing hard and having what might be the most honest conversation I've had with another human being in months.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
I came here for a self-defense lesson. That's all. Learn some basic techniques, feel a little safer walking to my car at night, maybe build enough confidence that the next time my ex shows up unexpectedly, I don't completely freeze. Simple. Professional. Nothing complicated.
Except nothing about this is simple anymore.
Because for the last forty minutes, Cole has been grabbing me from behind, and I've been feeling something very specific pressing against my back. Something hard and thick and absolutely unmistakable.
The first time, I thought I imagined it. The second time, I thought maybe he had his phone in his pocket, even though that made no sense because he wasn't wearing anything with pockets. By the third time, I knew.
