Tugging on a mat, he huffed. “Is that so?”
“You’ve given the women who come here hope.” Hope they needed to make a fresh start, to stop being afraid of the dark, to face their fears. “They know they don’t have to depend on someone else to take care of themselves. You’ve given them what they need to move forward.”
I glanced outside the glass to the gym. One woman—Gloria—showed up like clockwork. Her face was permanently damaged thanks to the beatings she took for years. Now, with Mike’s help, she was rebuilding her life and putting it back together again.
“Take her for instance.” I lifted my hand, indicating Gloria. “When she started class, she was terrified of her own shadow. You’ve given her power and freedom. You’ve shown her that she can stand on her own two feet.”
“She’s just one of many, but I can’t help them all, not if they won’t let me.” He flipped the mat over and rotated again, facing me. “Like you. You keep people at a distance, so no one ever has the chance to get to know you. I don’t know who it was that messed you up so bad, but you still can’t let it go. Until you do, your past will control you.”
Yep, that was me in a nutshell. When did Mike become the fucked-up people whisperer?
“Maybe you should keep that in mind when I ask for help. Since I appear to lack the common sense you wish I had, maybe it would be best if you taught me how to fight myself out of a tight spot. Who knows? Maybe over time I can let my guard down a bit and start living the life you want me to.”
He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “There’s always one.”
I took a drink of water and asked, “One what?”
“Person who thinks they can go it alone. That nothing can touch them.”
The two sentences were extremely sobering, summing me up better than I cared for. “I don’t think I’m infallible. I know I can be killed. I’m not Superwoman.”
“Maybe not, but you’re reckless.” He lowered his hand, studying me again, shaking his head. “I want to help you, but I won’t if you refuse to help yourself.”
Damn. All of this over a cab ride home? “How about this?” I asked, attempting to find common ground. “I’ll take a cab home, but there’s a condition.”
This time, his smile was genuine. “What might that be?”
“Weapons training. I’m tired of waiting.” I glanced at the Bo nestled inside the cage at the side of the room. Okay, so it did remind me of Kung Fu and Kane, but for some reason I really wanted to learn how to use the weapon, to manipulate it in the same way I could my butterfly knives.
“Done,” he said faster than I’d anticipated. “But I also have a condition.”
“What might that be?” I repeated his question with a grin, trying to pull him out of his funk.
“We start small,” he said and walked over to me. When he stopped inches away, he tapped my forehead again, this time softly. “And when you come to class, I want you in class. Nothing else exists outside this room.”
If only he knew what existed outside the room, he might have a different outlook on life. Mike was a big dude, one who could easily take care of himself. But if he found himself fighting the things I did, he’d understand just how weak he really was. Strength and muscle only got a person so far. Fortunately, he didn’t know about the things that went bump in the night, and I wasn’t going to enlighten him.
I brought my fingers up and gave him a playful salute. “Consider it done.”
“Good.”
“Do we really have to start small?” I couldn’t tell him how quickly I could adapt thanks to vampire blood, but thankfully our time together had proven I was capable—when my head was screwed on tight.
“Absolutely. You have to crawl before you walk.”
“Or take a cab before someone gives you the keys to your own wheels,” I quipped, sullen but not caring.