22
RORY
A few of Daddy’s men are cheering me on, and Daddy is standing off to the side, watching as Mal tries to teach me how to defend myself from much larger douchebags.
“I know you’re small, but you’re fast. Use that speed to your advantage. Rather than coming at someone head-on, use your surroundings to keep your distance. There’s no shame in hiding.”
“Or punching people in the dick,” Tag adds.
“Or punching people in the dick,” Mal agrees. “Okay, so you’ve got nowhere to hide in here. What are you going to do?”
“Help! Someone please help me!” I scream at the top of my lungs, and everyone claps for me.
“Perfect,” Mal says. “Now, if no one comes to help, what would you do? Tag, get up here.”
Tag stretches dramatically and climbs into the ring. “Show me what you got, rabbit.”
He’s pretty scary when he’s up close. Which is a good thing when he’s protecting me, but not now. I’d never be able to fight him.
So I take off running, which surprises Tag, and he lumbers after me, but he gets stuck in the ropes before running after me. That gives me the second I need to hide, so I double back and slide under the ring.
“Shit,” Tag grumbles as he runs back into the room.
“I’m starting to doubt my decision to hire you.” Daddy laughs, and a minute later, the flap of the ring flies up.
“Gotcha.” Tag reaches for me, and I bite his hand before rolling away.
“Nice work, Rory.” Mal high-fives me when I climb back out.
“Fucker bit me.” Tag shakes out his hand. “But I’m so proud of you,” he finishes excitedly.
“You didn’t teach me how to bite.”
“Nope, but if you need to fight dirty, you do it.” He high-fives me too.
“I feel bad fighting dirty,” I admit.
“Anyone who’s trying to hurt you deserves it, and who made up the rules of fighting fair, anyway? A good dick punch is the best way to win a fight.” Tag executes a dick punch to emphasize his point.
“Moving on. If you find a safe place, stay there until help comes or the danger has passed. But you can’t hide from him anymore. So what can you use as a weapon?”
I pick up a weight, or try to, and then grab a smaller weight.
“Good, but just remember you’d kill somebody with a weapon like that,” Mal warns.
I put the weight back and grab a chair, holding the legs out toward Tag. “I don’t want to kill anybody.”
“Rory, if it’s you or them to die, it’s always them,” Daddy chimes in.
“He’s right. Sometimes in this business, it’s better to shoot first and ask questions later,” Mal agrees.
“After you kill a few, it’s not so bad. You get used to it.” Tag flicks a hand, and most of the men around me nod in agreement.
“I’m going to pretend that you’re joking.” Even though I’m sure he’s not.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Tag shrugs.
“I think that’s enough training for today.” Daddy comes over and picks me up. I settle against his chest and enjoy the ride inside. “Did any of that help you?”
