“We’ll need them for this nex
t part.”
I crossed to the hooks in the entryway and riffled through my bag, finding the keyring I had. I jangled it in front of me as I walked back into the living room. Beckett held out his hand, and I dropped them into his palm. There were only three keys on the ring. One to this house, one to the garage, and one to Hayes and Everly’s place that she had insisted I have.
Beckett surveyed the options and selected one. “Keys are a great weapon.” He wrapped his hand around the key to this house and held it up, making a stabbing motion. “This is called a hammer strike. You want to aim for soft spots like the eyes. Even if you end up hitting the cheek, you can still do some damage.”
I shivered at the thought of my key hitting anyone’s eye.
Beckett caught sight of the movement. “The adrenaline will help.” He tossed me the keys.
I wrapped my hand around one and practiced the motion. Beckett moved in closer. “Aim for me.”
I lifted my arm and brought it down slowly towards his face. I hated the action but knew it would be useful if I were in real danger.
“Good.” Beckett walked me through several other moves like a palm strike to the nose and a knee to the groin. “How would you feel about practicing getting out of holds?”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly going dry. “We can do that.”
Beckett didn’t move for a moment, just kept studying my face. “If it’s too much at any time, just say the word.”
“Purple elephant?”
His lips twitched. “Purple elephant.”
Beckett circled slowly until he was behind me. He wrapped his arms around my chest and pulled me flush against him. “You okay?”
My heart took up a riotous rhythm, but it wasn’t because I was scared. Somewhere along the way, I’d lost all fear of Beckett. It was the closeness that had my heart doing acrobatics in my chest. “I’m good.”
He gave me a little squeeze. “All right, what would you do to get out of this hold?”
I squirmed a little, seeing if I could duck out of Beckett’s grip, but it was firm. I tried to pinch his arm lightly.
“That’s not a bad idea, but you want to be able to take action with a little more punch.”
I squirmed harder. “I don’t have any room for that.”
“So, make room.”
“How?”
“Try twisting your hips.”
I did as instructed, and the action gave my arm a little more space. Still, it was locked at my side. “Now what?”
“Hit to the groin. Please, don’t actually do it,” he hurried to add.
I couldn’t hold in my laugh. “I’ll try to restrain myself.”
“Thank you. Now, try it in slow motion.”
I twisted my hips and swung my arm back, stopping just shy of making contact.
Beckett released me. “That’s great.”
I turned to face him. “I worry that all of this will fly right out of my head in the heat of the moment.”
“That’s why we practice. If you do it enough, muscle memory takes over.”