Page 10 of Moved
The answer lay before me. I fought not to smile as I bit him...on the nipple. But lightly.
My considerate restraint didn’t seem to matter to him. Again, I found myself on the mat with him on top of me. His eyes blazed, and his mouth pressed into a grim line.
As I watched, the whites of his eyes darkened. Not red, but more of a rust brown. I hid any sign of surprise, of jubilation.
Racer closed his eyes and took a slow breath.
“Use your head before you act. Try to anticipate your attacker’s reactions.”
When he opened his eyes, they were back to normal. Excitement coursed through me but I didn’t let on that I’d just witnessed something out of the ordinary.
“I did. I anticipated you pinning me to the ground, which got me out of your arms.”
“The goal is to get away.”
Once again, he moved off me and offered a hand. I didn’t accept.
Lightly getting to my feet, I watched him closely. He, in turn, studied me. I kept my stance loose, trying to anticipate his next move.
When he moved, he moved fast, lunging to the right and grabbing for my shoulder. I pivoted, but felt his hold tighten on my hoodie. Dropping to my knees, I raised my arms and slid out the bottom of it, leaving him holding the empty garment. He threw it to the mat and started for me. Still on my knees, I rolled to the side and tried to get to my feet. Not fast enough. He grabbed my leg. I kicked out with my free leg and connected with his face.
I froze, and so did he.
“Sorry!”
“Never apologize.” Was it my imagination or did he sound way less stuffy?
He stood, still holding my ankle, his expression impassive.
Fine. No apologizing during practice. Just one more thing he was taking way too seriously. He arched a brow at me, waiting for my reaction. So I kicked at him again, aiming for his face. He dodged and dropped my ankle.
“I think we’re done for today.”
The five-minute scramble on the mat had my heart pumping. I nodded and rose to my feet. He grabbed my hoodie and handed it to me.
“Washer and dryer are in the basement. Help yourself to what you need.”
“Thanks.”
We walked to the house together. Maybe staying with Racer wouldn’t be so bad after all. I wanted to start hammering him with questions right away but given how he was about following Dad’s orders, he probably wouldn’t answer them. I’d need to plan it out. Time my questions.
I went upstairs, grabbed my laundry, then went to the dark, damp basement. Not my favorite place. I used his soap, threw the load into the washer, and noticed he had a load of clothes in the dryer. I figured I might as well be helpful and loaded them into the empty basket he’d left. I set the basket outside his door and made my way upstairs for the night.
Sleeping in meant I wasn’t tired. I vacuumed, cleaned the windows, and channel surfed. Death by boredom. Boredom did have amazing sedative properties, though. By nine, I lay in my bed curled on my side.
Mom faced Dad with her hands on her hips. “I refuse to keep this from her.”
Dad wiped his hand over his face. I could read his weary frustration and his adoration. Mom always got her way.
“Diana, it wasn’t supposed to be possible. We don’t know what it means for her. All I’m suggesting is that we wait until we know. You said she smells like me.”
I stepped around the corner, my blanket trailing behind me. “Mama?”
She turned toward me with a smile and scooped me up into her arms. “Come on, bug. You belong in bed.”
She tucked me in and kissed my cheek. When she pulled away, it wasn’t my mother’s face but Chuck’s.
“You were mine from the start.”
