Page 38 of Girl Long Gone

18

Loud grunts and the banging of weights erupted around the open space. Men with bulging biceps and women in skintight clothes ran on treadmills and lifted dumbbells. “How long will we be here?” Evelyn wrapped her hoodie tighter around her.

Working out had never been high on her priority list. She’d spent most of her life trying to detract attention from her body, not tone it up so people would want to look at it. Her sweatpants, T-shirt, and baggy hoodie made her look like a bum compared to the other women in their skimpy outfits.

And why were there so many mirrors everywhere? Who wanted to stare at themselves while they sweated and couldn’t catch their breath?

Maybe I’m the only one who has that issue.

Connor shrugged and maintained his clipped pace toward the back of the room. A duffel bag dangled from his shoulder, and toned calves peeked from beneath his gym shorts. “Not long. I just need to relieve some tension. This is the best way to do it. I’m usually at the gym every morning. I haven’t been since Monica went missing.” His words came out tight, reminding Evelyn of the thin thread holding him together.

She stole a glance at the chiseled muscles pressed against the back of his T-shirt, and a shiver raced down her spine. Of course he went to the gym every day. No one could have a body like his without working on it often. “What are you going to do? Lift weights? Punch a bag?”

He chuckled. “No. We’re going to do some self-defense moves.” He stopped at the far corner of the room, opening a door that led them into a quiet space free of other people. He threw down his bag and kicked it out of the way.

Taking a step backward, Evelyn searched for the nearest exit. “I’m good, thanks. You do your thing and I’ll watch.”

Connor clamped a hand around her wrist and pulled her forward. “Isn’t this what Gabriel did? Grabbed your wrist?”

She swallowed hard and locked her gaze on the hand rooting her to the spot. Her heart beat erratically, and beads of sweat clung to her forehead. Panic stole her motor functions, even if all logic told her Connor would never hurt her.

She yanked her hand back, but he tightened his grip and closed the small gap between them. “Stop. I don’t like this.”

Connor loosened his hold but didn’t let go. “You need to learn how to defend yourself.”

A humorless laugh bubbled in her throat. “I can’t defend myself against Gabriel. Hell, I’ve never defended myself against anyone. That’s why I’m sticking by your side until he’s caught. You’re like a living, breathing superhero.”

“Thanks, I think, but you can defend yourself. I’m not saying you could kick Gabriel’s ass, which for the record you probably could, but you can learn a few techniques to buy yourself some time to get away if the worst happened.”

Connor had shown her she didn’t want to hide anymore. She wanted to be seen for the woman she was. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to be proud of herself.

She lifted her gaze to his and tightened her jaw. “Fine. What do I need to do?”

A smile lit his face, and he reestablished a tight hold on her wrist. “Okay. In this situation, put your free hand over my knuckles.”

She placed her hand over his.

“Good. Squeeze tight. Now swing your arm,” he said, shaking the wrist he still held. “Grab my wrist and push down. The pressure will push your attacker to the floor, no matter how big he is.”

Evelyn sucked in a deep breath and swung her arm, along with Connor’s hand she still clasped, in a wide circle. She pulled his straightened arm behind his back, and he bent forward. The corded muscles of his forearm tightened, and she used all her weight to push him forward.

He released his grip and fell to the ground.

Excitement lifted her to her toes. “Did I do it right?”

Connor rolled over on his back and grinned. “What do you think?”

Her gaze flew to his full lips. His wide smile held a playfulness she hadn’t seen from him, and it twisted his words in her mind. Heat burned in her belly, but she shoved it aside and concentrated on what they were here to do. She narrowed her gaze. “Did you fall on purpose?”

“Never.” He jumped to his feet. “Want to try another one?”

She nodded.

“Okay. Last night you had your hair in a ponytail. A lot of attackers go after women with their hair up, because it gives them something easy to grab onto.”

She touched the crown of her head where a rubber band secured her hair then trailed her hand over her long ponytail. She shuddered. She never imaged it could make her a target. “Should I leave it down?”

“Your hair’s still long, so someone could always grab a handful. It’s better to learn what to do if someone grabs it.” He grabbed a fistful of hair, adding just enough pressure to pull her head back. “Your instinct would be to yank your head forward to get away, but that won’t work. You need to swing your arm over mine—the one that has your hair—and hook the bend behind my elbow under your armpit.”