An Act of Obsession (Acts of Honor Book 3) (3 page)

My thoughts fade as I reach the gym. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and enter to see the bright place empty. I stand in the entrance, looking around for Kolan.

“I don’t care. I told you, I’m not fucking interested.”

My gaze moves to the far corner of the gym where his angry voice echoes. He peeks his head out of the office with the phone to his ear and holds up a finger.

I give him a nod before he retreats back inside. Dropping my gym bag, I walk in farther to explore. I’ve always been athletic so gyms aren’t foreign to me, but I’ve never been to one like this. It’s dedicated to fighters and filled with equipment I would never know how to use. I feel completely out of my element here. That is until I find myself in an open area of mats that are surrounded by mirrors.

I come to a stop, staring at my reflection. Something I never do anymore, especially without my scarf on. I can’t bear to see the scars and it’s even harder when I don’t recognize the person looking back at me. It’s not Sophie Parish, the girl who used to smile all the time and love life. It’s a sad girl just trying to survive, hoping to live to see another day. Even if that day is a lonely one.

However, there are parts of me that will never forget who I am—who I used to be. As I stare back in the mirror, it’s as if my body has a mind of its own, and I suddenly find myself rising to the tips of my toes. The quiet music coming from the speakers is anything but soft, yet that doesn’t seem to matter. I extend my right leg straight into the air, wrapping one hand around my calf and bringing it to the side of my head. The familiar stretch has warmth spreading through me, settling all the way down to my bones.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I spin ever so slowly, coming full circle, and I can’t seem to stop. It’s as if I’m back in the dance studio. I continue to turn until I get lost in nothing but the feeling of freedom. The feeling of the old me. It’s so powerful and moving that I bask in it, letting it take me over. It isn’t until someone clears their throat that I remember where I am.

With a sharp gasp, I drop my leg and spin around to see Kolan only a few feet away, watching me.

“Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t realize you were finished with your call.”

“It’s fine.”

Before I can stop myself, I take him in for a second time. Tonight, he’s in loose, black athletic pants and a white muscle tank that shows off his cut arms and black ink. He wears a black ball cap that’s turned backward, brown wisps of hair poking out from all sides. My original assessment of him was right, he’s definitely the best looking guy I’ve ever seen but also intimidating.

When my eyes meet his, my cheeks burn with embarrassment, as I realize he’s watching me openly ogle him. His expression now amused.

Good god, Sophie, get a hold of yourself.

“I hope what I’m wearing is okay. I wasn’t sure what was appropriate,” I say, doing a crappy job at hiding my humiliation.

His eyes travel down the length of me, taking in my black capri yoga leggings and army green tank. “It’s good, except you need to lose the scarf.”

My blood runs cold at the terrifying thought. “No.”

He scowls at my quick refusal. “You can’t train with it on. It’s a safety hazard.”

“You don’t understand. I won’t take it off for any reason.” My voice trembles as much as my body, no matter how hard I try for it not to.

He continues to watch me, his hard eyes assessing before he shakes his head. “Whatever. Here.” He hands me a clipboard with a pen attached to it. “I need you to fill this out and sign at the bottom.”

I take the form from him, trying not to feel guilty over the irritation in his tone. After I fill out the waiver, I hand it back to him without meeting his eyes.

“What is it you’re wanting to get out of this?” he asks, his tone a little softer.

I shrug. “I’m not really sure. What are my options?”

“I can teach you what I do at the course. It’s basic moves to help you get out of a dangerous situation long enough to get help. That’s the main objective. Or,” he says, drawing my eyes to his, “if you want I can show you how to make sure no one ever fucks with you again. That’s more extensive, which means more lesson time.” He shrugs. “Your call.”

Thinking for even a second that I could possibly put a stop to Daniel for good has hope wedging its way into the cracks of my soul. Unfortunately, I’m not able to afford much at the moment. “How many lessons would it be if I choose the second option?”

He shrugs. “However long it takes or when you want to stop.”

I shift on my feet, biting my thumbnail. “Um, we haven’t talked about price yet. How much per lesson?”

“We’ll worry about that later,” he says, turning around.

“Wait.” I grab onto his arm, not missing how hard he feels under my fingertips. When he stares down at my hand, I quickly release him. “Sorry. It’s just…I need to know because I can only afford so much.”

“I don’t have a set price because we don’t usually offer this. Like I said, we’ll worry about it later. Let’s see how the lessons go first. We’ll make sure it’s within your budget.”

I frown, wondering why he would do that when he doesn’t even know me. But I don’t bother asking and be grateful he’s willing to teach me. “Okay, thank you.”

“Let’s warm up,” he says, leading me over to an open area of mats.

He takes me through an endurance circuit, reminding me how long it’s been since I’ve exercised. He does it all with me, barely breaking a sweat. While we stretch, we discuss how to avoid being caught off guard and to always be careful of your surroundings. As he talks about following my instincts when something doesn’t feel right, I think back to that night when I entered my dorm.

Those alarm bells are always something I wish I had listened to.

After we’re done, he takes me over to the punching bag, or what he calls a heavy bag. “Have you ever hit anyone before?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I guess. My sister and I got into some pretty good scraps growing up. Most of it was hair pulling, but a few times we came to blows.”

A feeling of nostalgia flows through me as I think about Tess and the few catfights we got into. It vanishes quickly though when I see Kolan trying to bite back a smile, rubbing that strong jaw of his.

“I meant have you ever thrown a punch?”

My blood heats with embarrassment as I realize how stupid I just sounded. “Of course you did,” I mumble.

He chuckles, the simple act sounds rusty, as if he doesn’t do it often. It should make me feel worse but oddly, it doesn’t. Instead, it has my tummy doing somersaults.

“Before we do anything, we need to make sure you can throw a proper punch.”

He positions himself behind me and grips my shoulders to turn me, his very clean male scent penetrating my senses. Sliding a hand down my arm, he encircles my wrist, sending goose bumps to break out across my skin. I pray with everything I am that he doesn’t notice the reaction.

Get a grip, Sophie.

“Make a fist,” he orders.

Swallowing thickly, I close my hand.

“Like this.” He opens my hand up and makes me curl my fingertips in higher, then positions my thumb a certain way. “This is the best grip. When you throw a punch you hit straight on and make sure your knuckles are flush against your target for the most powerful contact.” He helps me through the motions, my hand barely touching the bag. “We’re not hitting hard because I have no protection on your hands. We’re doing this for technique first,” he explains, as if hearing my thought.

I nod in understanding.

He guides me through it a few more times then backs up and lets me try some on my own.

“Good. Those are good. Okay, come here.” When I do as he says, he slips a pair of fingerless gloves on my hands. “We’re going to work on power now. Do what I just showed you but with as much strength as you can.”

I face the bag again and hit what feels like cement. An
oomph
sound comes from me and the bag doesn’t even flinch.

“Well, that was pathetic,” I muse out loud. Glancing at Kolan, I catch him smirking at me and notice what a striking smirk it is.

“Not pathetic,” he says. “I haven’t shown you how to hit it yet.”

I frown, wondering if the guy has a memory problem. “You just did.”

“Not with power. Watch.” He moves to the bag, his hands also masked in gloves. “I’m going to throw the same punch you just did.” His fist connects with the bag, making it swing.

“It makes a difference when you’re a hundred pounds heavier than me,” I grumble under my breath, but not quiet enough because he hears me.

“This has nothing to do with size and everything to do with technique. Watch the difference with this next one.” This time, when he hits the bag, it flies. He catches it then turns back to me. “Did you see what I did differently?”

I shake my head, completely clueless.

“Come here.” Grabbing my shoulders, he places me in front of him again. “When you throw a punch it’s important you step into it. Your power doesn’t come from your arm, it comes from your hips.” He leads me through a new set of motions, adding to the ones he already showed me. “Good. Now make the bag move,” he says, stepping back.

Sure, no problem.

I hit the bag again, but of course nothing happens.

“Again,” he orders.

I do it a few more times with no success.

“Quicker. Use your hips and put more power into your step.”

Taking a deep breath, I back up then move into it faster, doing as he instructed. This time, I barely feel my fist connect with the bag but it actually moves.

With a gasp, I spin to face Kolan. “Did you see that? It moved!”

He nods, a smirk lifting his lips. “It did. Now do it again.”

This time, I have a little more confidence and put more oomph into it, making the bag swing once more.

I smile over at Kolan, happy about my small feat.

“Good job. Let’s move to the ring now.”

I follow him to the center of the gym where the ring is located. He steps on the rope, making an opening for me. After I climb in, I secure my infinity scarf a little tighter around me. His eyes follow my movement but he doesn’t call notice to it.

“Let’s start with some basic scenarios first. In most cases, attackers strike with the element of surprise. It’s important for you to use the same tactic on them. Your reaction time is everything. So, as hard as it is in that situation, you need to control your fear and act quickly. If I were to jump out in front of you and grab your shoulder”—his large hand covers my bare shoulder—“the first thing you’re going to do is lower yourself. Slightly bend your knees.”

I do as he says.

“See how awkward my grip is on you now?”

I nod.

“It also makes me lower myself to you, which is good because of our height difference. Now there are a few different things you could do here. There are certain parts on the body that you want to aim for, to cause the most pain. The nose is one of them. Since I’m forced to bend down to keep my grip on you, this would be a good opportunity for you to take the heel of your hand and thrust up against my nose. Do it hard enough and you’ll break it.” Grabbing my wrist, he briefly shows me the motion. “Another place, and always the most effective when dealing with a guy, is his groin.”

Without meaning to, I drop my gaze. When I realize what I’ve done, I snap my eyes back up to his face, hoping he didn’t notice, but no such luck.

“You gotta look if you’re going to hit it,” he says with a smirk.

My face flames, as I wish for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. The reaction only makes him chuckle and the sound does funny things to me again.

“All right, now with this scenario, if you’re going for the groin you’re not going to push him away, you’re going to bring him closer. Grab his shirt or whatever he’s wearing then pull him in and bring your knee up… Go ahead and do it, just don’t make contact. I’m not protected.”

I raise my eyebrows at the idea, deciding to mess with him since he seems to enjoy giving me a hard time. His scowl makes me giggle, something that I haven’t done in a long time.

I begin going through the moves, my fists curling into his shirt to bring him closer. That’s when there’s a shift. My pulse begins to race as I feel his hard body against mine. His dark eyes hold me captive, making me feel things I shouldn’t—dangerous things.

Clearing his throat, he steps back, breaking the heated moment. “Let’s work on something else.”

With an awkward nod, I regain my wits and focus on his instructions as he goes through the different ways for me to break out of someone’s hold. This time, he seems more careful with how close he gets to me.

“Any questions on those?” he asks when he’s done.

I shake my head. “No, but I have a question about something else.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, what if they have me pinned on the ground? How do I get out of that?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“The objective is to not let them gain that control over you.”

“But what if they do? What if they come at you from behind and knock you down?”

My eyes drop to the ground as silence stretches between us, the intensity of his stare seeing more than I want him to.

“There are ways. We can work on that next time.”

I nod. “When do you want me to come back?”

“Tomorrow evening? Same time?”

“That works for me. Are you sure I can’t pay you something?”

“No,” he says, seeming a little annoyed I asked.

I clear my throat. “All right. Well…thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He steps on the ropes again, making an opening for me.

Climbing through, I feel him watch me while I go grab my water bottle and bag. Just as I head for the door, he calls out to me. I turn around to see him jump from the ring and make his way over. My tummy dances at his purposeful strides, head craning back as I keep eye contact with him.

He stops in front of me, leaving a very small space between us. “You got a phone?”

I stare up at him, dumbfounded. It’s as if I’m brain-dead and I’ve been robbed of all coherent thoughts.

His smirk snaps me back into myself.