Page 37 of Hiding for the Holidays
I nod again, my palms starting to sweat. He raises his hands, demonstrating how to position myself.
“Keep your hands up.” He lifts mine gently until they’re level with my face. “Like this. Elbows in, fists loose. You’re not throwing yet; you’re protecting.”
He positions me just so, one foot slightly forward, knees soft. “Now if someone swings,” he says as he slowly arcs his arm toward me in slow-motion, “you use your forearm to redirect. Not your hand; it’ll break.”
I flinch anyway on instinct, even though I know he won’t actually hit me. He pauses, and silence stretches between us.
“You’re safe here, Clara,” he says quietly, and something in his voice makes my stomach twist as I nod.
“I know, sorry. It was instinct.”
He frowns as if he doesn’t like my answer, then he moves behind me, arms reaching around to adjust mine from a new angle. His hands are warm and solid, and when he speaks again, his breath brushes the shell of my ear.
“Picture it like a shield. This,” he taps my forearm, “is your armor. You keep it between you and them always.”
I nod, but I’m not sure if I’m shivering from nerves or the heat of him at my back. Maybe both.
“Good,” Asher murmurs. “Let’s try it again. Faster this time.”
He moves back in front of me as the other two watch us silently. Asher pulls his arm back and throws a slow punch toward my face, not hard, not fast, but more real than before. I flinch again, but this time, I get my arm up in time. It connects to his forearm and redirects it off to the side.
“Better.” His mouth curves slightly, like he's pleased. “You’re a quick study.”
“Because I have a good teacher,” I say, a little breathless. My heart’s pounding too hard for how slowly we're moving.
“Want me to try?” Leo asks, eyes flicking to Asher with a teasing glint.
“Be my guest,” Asher says. “She’s warmed up.”
Leo steps in front of me, taller than Asher, but softer around the eyes. He gives me a reassuring smile as he raises his hands into a defensive stance. “Same thing. I’m gonna come in slowly. Show me how you block it.”
I nod and mimic the motion Asher taught me, catching hisforearm just in time. His touch is feather light when it lands, more like a tap than anything threatening.
“Good,” he says, nodding. “You want to try a little faster?”
I nod my head and we go again. He still manages to keep his punch light even though it’s a little faster. I barely get my forearm up in time, but I manage to push his fist away at the last second.
“Don’t tire her out,” Grant calls from behind him. He strolls over with a smile. “I haven’t had a turn.”
He takes Leo’s place as he says, “Alright, Clara. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I square up, nerves zipping through me again. Grant’s presence is heavier somehow. Not threatening, but solid and unshakable. I feel the tension rising between us.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises, already reading me too well. “You just react.”
The next half hour passes in a blur of practice. Leo is careful and encouraging, correcting my form with gentle touches and quiet words. Grant is firm but patient, pushing me a little harder. And Asher hovers nearby, always watching, always ready to step in.
By the time we’re done, my arms are trembling and my breath is short, but for the first time in forever, I don’t feel like I’d be completely useless if Scott found me.
I just hope he doesn’t.
I climb onto Asher’s bike, behind him, my new boots, coat and gloves keeping my feet warm as a cold wind whips through the parking lot.
“We won’t be able to take the bike much longer,” Asher says as I adjust the helmet and wrap my arms around him.
“I’ll miss our bike rides,” I tell him honestly.
“Me too,” he says as his hand lands on mine and gives it a small squeeze before he grabs the handles and starts the bike.
