My hands paused on her wrist, and my chest filled with shock and pride.
“When he didn’t let me go, I turned in his arms and started clawing at him. I kicked him . . .” She trailed off then and shrugged.
“You’re incredible,” I whispered in awe.
“Did I do it right?”
I fought back my smile and continued to massage her wrist. “You are incredible, and you fought harder than I expected you to.” The excitement in her eyes started fading, so I hurried to add, “Briar, you fought for your life, there’s never a wrong way in fighting. I’m proud of you. But tell me what the man did when you did those things.”
She only thought for a second before answering: “He tightened his arms around me. I got away once, but he grabbed my hair and pulled me back.”
Rage flooded me instantly, and something like a growl sounded low in my chest—but the man was already dead, so I couldn’t do anything about it now.
I swallowed thickly, pushing back that anger and need to hurt a man for hurting her, and nodded. “What you did when you fought is a lot of what an instructor would teach you. He would add in a couple stomach jabs and foot stomps, but the result would be the same—if the attacker really wanted you, he would tighten his hold instead of releasing you.”
“Then what’s the point of training?” she asked softly, her shoulders lifting in the barest of shrugs.
I dipped my head so my face was directly in front of hers and held her eyes. “Because I know exactly how someone would attack you, Blackbird. I’ve been that man.”
Her face paled and a shuddering breath fell from her lips. “Right,” she said, sounding breathless. “Right.”
“I know exactly how someone would fight, and I know exactly how the attacker would respond.” I forced back the memories that threatened to resurface. “And I know how to get away.”
Briar was silent for so long that I started to ask if she was okay before she suddenly asked, “You mean her, don’t you? The other girl you loved?” There wasn’t a hint of jealousy in her voice now, just numb curiosity.
I stilled then nodded slowly.
“Tell me how she fought.”
“Why, Briar?” I as
ked warily, worried that knowing would only scare her.
“I need to know.” Her head was shaking, almost absentmindedly. “I need to know how she fought.”
I swallowed past the tightness in my throat as those memories pushed through and swallowed again. “She kicked,” I began, releasing Briar’s wrist to fold my arms over my chest. “I was dragging her out of a closet, and she was clawing at the carpet, trying to stay in there. She just kept kicking, even when I forced her onto her back so we could knock her out. I dropped onto her to make her stop, and then one of my brothers brought a rag covered in chloroform. When she woke up, she fought harder. She punched and kicked and bit, so I sat down and held her in my arms. With each hit and bite, my hold tightened until she wore herself out.”
Nearly a minute passed in silence. Unease slowly crawled through me as the girl in front of me continued to watch me thoughtfully, before she whispered, “My first day here with you . . . it was like your first day with her.”
I hesitated for only a second before reaching out to cup her cheek in my hand. “In the beginning, I hated myself. I hated that I couldn’t continue carrying out my role with you. I hated that the time with you felt too much like my time with her—that it had all felt the same. I tried telling myself over and over it wasn’t, until I finally accepted it was. Then I fell in love with you and realized only the situation was similar—not you. And then you decided to stay . . .”
The corners of her mouth curled in a soft smile, and she turned her head to kiss my palm. When she looked at me, that smile had transformed into a smirk. “I’m glad she hit you.”
A surprised laugh burst from my chest.
“You deserved it.”
My amusement immediately drained from me, and my hand fell away from her. “For all I’ve done, I’ve deserved a lot more than that.” I took a calming breath and said, “But like I said, she fought, and my hold tightened. You fought, his hold tightened. I need to make sure that never happens again.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked lost in that moment. “I won’t be able to do this the way you’re hoping I will. I’ll be afraid of hurting you.”
“Don’t.” I turned and walked back toward the door of the room to flip off the light, talking as I went. “I want to start by seeing how you react when I grab you—to see what you do instinctively. Then I want to go over all the different ways someone will come after you. Running with you, dragging you, walking with you—all of it. I’ll teach you multiple ways to get away.”
“So no biting?” she asked as I walked back to her.
“If you bite, you don’t bite to hurt. You bite to rip out flesh.”
Briar shuddered then held her hand up to stop me when I neared her and pulled a bandana out of the back pocket of my jeans. “Wait, what are you doing?”