Page 51 of A Brother At My Back

19

Tiffany…

“He scares the shit out of me,” I confessed in a whisper and Nik glanced over my shoulder at Reaver who was striding through the door of the gym. He stopped by Mali and they bumped fists.

“Ah, yeah, he’s half-cracked, that one, but you don’t have anything to worry about. I promise you that. He keeps his crazy pretty well contained when it comes to it.”

“Good to know I’m not crazy,” I muttered.

“Nah, but I wouldn’t go trying to psychoanalyze him either. He’d pick up on it and probably wouldn’t be too happy.”

“Noted,” I said quickly under my breath as he and Mali came this way.

“Now is when this shit gets fun!” Mali declared and I straightened.

“You don’t like guns,” Reaver said, “So I’m here to show you a thing or two about knives.”

I shuddered inwardly at how his eyes lit up when he said the word ‘knives.’

“Okay,” I said cautiously, and Mali stepped in front of him.

“First we’re going to go through some of the drills we went through last week, though. Then, when Reaver has a grasp on how much you know, he’ll introduce the sharp shiny objects and how to deal with them in the same sort of scenarios. Sound good?”

No. It sounded really fucking overwhelming, actually. What I said out loud, however, was: “Sounds great.”

We went through everything we’d already been through and I was super glad that Nik and I had practiced an hour or so the day before after our sex and a movie date and a couple of days before that after work.

Mali seemed pleased we had too and I can’t tell you how grateful I was when the ‘sharp shiny objects’ that came into play weren’t, in fact, the real thing but rather were rubber variations for practice purposes.

“I think you’re right, Mali,” Reaver said, after the third or fourth go at a particular scenario. “Her dancing is helping her out by, like, a lot.”

“I can’t tell you how much I hate that I’m over here panting and dying while you’re standing there cool as a cucumber and haven’t even broken a sweat,” I said between gasping breaths.

“I’m used to these moves and cardio, cardio, cardio,” he said with a grin.

“I do cardio all night every night five nights a fucking week!” I cried and he laughed. “I’ma punch you,” I muttered flippantly and he laughed harder.

“So much for being a pacifist,” he teased, and I was beginning to like him.

I took a drink of water and shrugged, “I wouldn’t call myself a pacifist,” I said. “Granted I don’t like violence, especially when there are other options, but when you run out of those options and it’s the last resort…”

“You find yourself here, with us, busting your ass to make sure it’s covered,” Mali said and nodded. “Trust me, Sweetheart, I get you. I’m just a little more proactive than reactive, if you catch my drift.”

I nodded, I understood her. She probably would have handed Silas his ass before he ever got the chance to use a broken beer bottle on her face. I was young and dumb, though, and had thought that I could still change him. Trust me, all those stitches and the lesson on how stupid that viewpoint had been had been sewn into my very being with every single one of them.

“I really hope he just fucks off, but I just know it from the bottom of my soul that he’s out there looking for me and to cause trouble.” I scowled. Men like Silas didn’t quit. It hadn’t been in his nature when it came to riding bulls and with something that was so fundamentally a part of someone, well, it was likely something that hadn’t changed.

“Okay, explain that look,” Reaver demanded, scowling. I shifted from foot to foot.

“I still haven’t heard from Delia and she’s not answering her phone.”

“That the best friend?” Reaver asked, but he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking over my shoulder at Nik who was leaned up against the wall. Nik nodded.

“She ever did anything like this?” Mali asked.

“Gone off with a guy for a few days without so much as a text?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Reaver looked me over.

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