Page 7 of Quake
The man frowned slightly, then plucked down the flyer I’d been about to take from the board. “No pressure,” he said. “We do self-defense classes every Saturday, Tuesday, and Thursday. The class today is at two. You don’t need to book. Just turn up, and pay the instructor at the end. We do other kinds of classes as well if you want something different. Boxing, MMA, general fitness.”
He offered me the flyer, and I plucked it from his fingers. It seemed easy enough, but I felt the familiar tang of fear at the back of my throat and glanced at my feet. I was going to hurl the moment I got out of here, I knew it.
“You’re nervous, right?” the guy—Caleb—asked. Not waiting for an answer, he stood beside me and pointed to the mats by the roller door. “The class happens right there. We usually have about ten to fifteen people show. All women at various stages of fitness, but it’s not about that. Each class goes through some basic moves that you can use to get out of tight spots and some more advanced techniques if you really want to hurt the sucker. The instructor’s name is Tommy, who is that ugly son of a you-know-what over there.” He pointed to a man who was standing by himself, tidying the mess left behind by the lineup of guys doing push-ups by a boxing ring toward the back.
My lips curved slightly knowing that the guy beside me had given them as punishment for making me feel uncomfortable, but not that I’d needed any help. I’d been borderline crippled with anxiety since the previous night.
Tommy raised his head and gave us a small wave. He seemed nice enough at first glance, but who was I to judge? Everyone in here looked as if they moonlighted as thugs for the mafia, and there were no women in sight. Just muscled men training to punch each other until one of them dropped.
A wave of fear pulsed inside me, and I clutched the flyer to my chest. Why did I come in here? This Caleb guy had picked up on my anxiety and was being nice, but the only thing I wanted to do was turn tail and run. Damn, he was so attractive, and I was such a mutant.Great first impression, Jules.
“There’s no pressure,” Caleb went on, watching me closely. “This place is a bit of a Boy’s Club during the day, but we don’t want anyone to feel intimidated. Everyone’s welcome. Anytime.”
He flashed me a dazzling smile, and the emphasis on that last word didn’t escape me.Anytime.
Glancing down at the crumpled flyer, I said, “Thank you. I’ll, uh…think about it.”
“Are you sure?”
I looked up and found him smiling lopsidedly at me, his blue eyes twinkling. I didn’t know how to take him, not having much experience with men, so I just backed away nervously.
I shrugged, managing to hold back the jumble of words I desperately wanted to ramble at him, then I turned and fled. When I got to the end of the street, I leaned my back against the wall of the greengrocer and held the flyer against my beating heart.
Shit, I was such a mutant.
4
Caleb
Iwatchedthe woman practically run from the studio and disappear down the street.
She looked to be in her late twenties, freckled cheeks, pale blue eyes, and long black hair. Beautiful in her own way, but there was an unmistakable panic inside of her. It wasn’t lack of confidence, not quite, but something else. She was afraid. Of what, I didn’t know, but I hoped she’d gather the courage to come back. Stepping into this place with twelve hungry men staring at her was gutsy, especially if she was carrying around something fucked up.
I wondered what it was.
“What was that about?” Tommy asked, coming to stand beside me.
A breeze was blowing through the open roller door, the cool change the news had been forecasting finally falling over the city. It was about bloody time. Things were sweltering in more ways than one.
“I’m not sure,” I replied, completely beguiled by the strange woman.
“She looked terrified.”
I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest, my forehead creased with a deep-set frown. The self-defense classes had been a fixture around this place long before I’d taken the helm, and I’d seen my fair share of women come and go, each here for their own reasons. Wanting to feel safer, wanting control, wanting to overcome a fear of some kind, or to gain some confidence, and the boys’ favorite…to perv on their sorry asses. It seemed some women only wanted to salivate over muscles and tattoos rather than actually learn something that could save their lives one day. I’d lost count of how many times I’d had to reprimand the guys for dipping their wicks into the clientele.
“You think she’ll come back?” Tommy asked.
“I don’t know, but I hope so.”
“There goes your bleeding heart again,” he said, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Shut it,” I grumbled, “or I’ll make you drop and give me two hundred.”
“Lucky for you I only work here,” Tommy said with a chuckle. “I train my own sorry ass.”
He left me standing by the notice board alone, my mind mulling over a million and one questions that didn’t have any answers. As an afterthought, I stepped out onto the street, but the woman had already disappeared.
My phone began to ring, vibrating in my pocket, and I stepped back into the shade, my skin never quite adjusting to direct sunlight. I wasn’t exactly a summer loving kind of dude.
