I had been expecting a right cross. Instead, I got kicked in the stomach.
My body crumpled like a paper doll. I couldn’t help clutching the injured spot with both hands, as if that would dull the pain. It wormed up from my abs to my chest, blossoming outward to my limbs. Still, I couldn’t stay in the same place or he’d hit me again, so I threw myself to the side as he tried to trip me. I came up on one knee and brought both forearms up as his right leg came down, heel first. I blocked the blow and punched him in the back of the knee.
Jared hissed and danced two steps backwards, hopping on one foot. “Damn. Good hit, Jor.”
“Thanks,” I rasped, rubbing my midsection. I’d be bruised later. Michael wouldn’t like that. Then again, that was why I hadn’t told him about this little session of mine.
Jared offered a hand and I took it, grateful as he pulled me to my feet. After a moment, I could breathe normally and returned to a defensive stance.
A couple people had stopped to watch us. I shot them hard looks, which made them wander off and pretend like they hadn’t been staring. I understood them, though. It wasn’t every day that a big black guy and an average height mixed girl with a bandaged chest and scars trained in a gym. Though I suspected they wanted to make sure he wasn’t wiping the floor with me, which he was.
Jared was a fourth-degree black belt. I hadn’t even had official martial arts training. Everything I knew about self-defense, I learned from him shortly after I moved to Albany two years ago. We met at the gym, and since he knew I couldn’t afford lessons, he took pity and taught me whenever he had free time.
His brown eyes wandered down my upper body and he paused, giving me a concerned look. “Need a break yet?”
I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “Nah. Maybe in about ten minutes or so. What’s the verdict so far?”
He relaxed his 6’3’’ frame and I knew I was in the clear for at least another five minutes. Jared wasn’t the type to attack without warning. “Your reaction time has taken the biggest hit, if you ask me. The advantage you usually have over me is speed, and that’s nowhere present from what I’ve seen. For instance, when you raise your arms to block, it’s not very solid. I could break through it if I wanted to.”
I winced. “Got it. Anything I can do to fix that?”
He shot me a disapproving look. “Oh, I don’t know, bed rest like your damn doctor recommended?”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
Jared sighed. “Fine. If you swear up and down that you want to improve…yoga.”
“Yoga.”
“Yes, yoga.”
“Can you really see me in a pair of tights bending myself into a pretzel?”
He rubbed his goatee, adopting an amused look. “Y’know, it’s not a bad mental image.”
I flipped him off and he laughed. “I mean it, though. It’ll get you limber without stressing your body out too much.”
“I’ll take it into consideration. Now let’s go again.”
He sank into a defensive position. I launched myself at him, aiming kicks at him since my upper body strength had taken most of the damage from Belial’s attack. Jared blocked my blows with expert ease, hopping out of the way when I tried to trip him. I aimed a chop at his throat when I found an opening, but he grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm, throwing me over his shoulder. I hit the mat with a solid thud, groaning as pain flooded up my spine in a startling rush.
Jared stood over me with a neutral expression. “You okay, tough guy?”
I waved a hand to dismiss the comment. “Sure. I’ll let you know when my dislocated vertebrae pops back into place.”
He chuckled, but then the grin disappeared when he spotted something over my head. “Uh, were you expecting company?”
“No. Why?”
Jared pointed. “Because there’s a tall guy heading this way who looks like he wants a piece.”
I tilted my head up to see Michael storming down the aisle between the mats with a death glare aimed in my direction. Great. Busted.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded when he was within earshot.
I sat up, rolling my shoulder to make sure it hadn’t popped out of alignment when Jared tossed me. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You told me you were going grocery shopping.”
I glanced around. “Hm. Must’ve gotten lost on the way there.”
Michael closed his eyes and I swore, it seemed like he was counting to ten. Instead of hurtling another pissed-off comment in my direction, he turned to Jared and stuck out a hand. “Sorry. I’m Michael. I’m attempting to be her at-home assistant.”
Jared shook his hand and then glared at me. “You failed to mention that, Jor.”
I stood, bending down to touch my toes. In top form, I could press the pads of my fingers to the floor, but in my current state, I could barely brush the ground. Shit.
“You didn’t ask.”