Tearing Down Walls (Love Under Construction Series Book 2) (8 page)

Vic looked at all of the implements and took a few off the wall. Most of them felt awkward in his hands. The bullwhip Steve had hanging there was beautiful, its grip of woven leather accentuated by two different colors, black and red, and the weaving created a lovely diamond pattern. Vic couldn’t see himself ever wielding something like a bullwhip; too scary, considering his size. Steve stood back and watched him handling everything, wondering what he’d come up with that he’d like to try.

Then Vic glanced toward the corner and saw something standing there. He walked over and picked it up. It was a rod-like tool, but it had some give in its shank, and he wiggled it back and forth, watching the way it reacted to his movements. “What is this thing?” he asked, turning to look at Steve.

“Funny you should ask. That’s a sjambok. It was a weapon used against the South African people during apartheid, but it’s much older than that. It was used by herders to drive cattle and oxen.” Steve got up from the whipping horse he’d been sitting on and went to stand beside Vic.

“It has some give. What’s it made out of?” Vic asked, scrutinizing it. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That’s because it’s made out of hippo hide. The ones they sell now are made out of a type of polypropylene and way more stiff, but that’s the real deal; I paid over five hundred dollars for it from a collector. I was told it’s softer than most because it’s so worn.” Steve stopped, then said, “Believe it or not, since I stood it in the corner, you’re the only person who’s touched it.”

“Do you know how to use it?” Vic asked.

“Not really,” Steve said. “You can split a person’s head right in half with it. But I was curious about it because of the way it can be manipulated by various actions.” Vic tried it – Steve was right. The slightest flick of his wrist caused a slight recoil at the tip. “But there is a martial arts guy here in town who’s familiar with it. Would you be interested in getting in touch with him?”

Vic looked at the sjambok; he flicked his wrist and watched the end snap in double-time. It was far more interesting than the other implements hanging on the wall. “You know, I think I would. Can you make that happen?”

“I most definitely can, buddy. Let me see what I can do. In the meantime, feel free to practice on the horse here or on one of the benches. Start very gently, see what you can do.” Steve thought for a minute, then said, “Hey, try the same kind of application as the evil stick, you know, hold your wrist still but pull the shank back with the other hand and let it fly, see what happens. I’m going upstairs to make a phone call. Stay down here as long as you want. When you come up, just make sure to lock the door behind you.” Steve disappeared up the steps and left Vic by himself in the dungeon.

Walking to a discipline post, Vic stood even with it and put the tip of the sjambok against the post, reached out and pulled the shank back, then turned it loose and let it go. The tip struck the post with a loud pop.
Wow, what if that was skin?,
he asked himself. He tried again, this time pulling it back about half as far as he had the first time. That time, the pop was more mellow. He wished he knew a way to find out what it felt like. Then he decided he’d try striking the post with it – too harsh. His next attempt was to hold it perpendicular to the post and twist his wrist. The tip wiggled and popped the post with a satisfying “thwack,” but it was pretty much out of control. Vic wondered,
Could I control this with some practice? Would it work?
He was about to try something else when Steve appeared in the doorway. “Come upstairs; we need to talk.”

Vic put the sjambok back in the corner, but Steve looked back and said, “No, bring it. It’s yours if you want it.” Vic went back, retrieved it, and took the steps two at a time.

“I called the guy here in town, and he said he’d be glad to work with you. You in?”

“One hundred and ten percent.”

“He’ll call you. Welcome aboard! You’re our newest Dom in training.”

Vic was standing at a jobsite in Lawrenceburg when his phone rang. A tingle of excitement ran through him – it was a number he didn’t recognize. “Hello, Cabrizzi here.”

“Vic Cabrizzi?”

“Yes.”

“This is Alex Hendricks. I work at Bennett’s Martial Arts.”
YES!!!!,
Vic almost screamed. “How are you today?”

“I’m quite well, thanks. And you?”

“Very well. Steve McCoy tells me you’re looking for instruction with the sjambok.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’d require three weeks of instruction. Will that work for you?”

Vic couldn’t answer fast enough. “Yes! It sure will!”

“We can work out a payment . . .”

“No need. It’s no problem. Just tell me where and when.”

By the time the conversation was over, the dates had been set. Alex was wasting no time, and Vic was glad. They’d start the next week and work until he was satisfied that Vic was proficient, and that was fine with Vic. Then he dropped the bomb.

“By the way, Steve shared with me your reason for wanting this training.” Vic held his breath. He wasn’t mad at Steve – Alex had a right to know what he was getting into – but he didn’t quite know how to respond. “Vic, are you still there?”

“Yeah, Alex. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. It was fine for Steve to tell you, but it’s just such a source of, I don’t know, humiliation?” He paused, and Alex wondered if he’d hung up. Just as he was about to ask if Vic was still there, in a soft, weak voice, Vic said, “It’s almost destroyed me, and I don’t know what to do to make it stop. This is my last hope.”

Alex had never met Vic, and yet he felt a good measure of sorrow for the man on the other end of the phone. “Vic, if anything will help you gain control, this training will. I’ve devoted over forty years to the practice of the martial arts and I can tell you, if you apply yourself, you’ll gain the self-control you seek.”

“I can’t promise that I’ll be a good student, but I’ll be the best student I can be. I’ve got a lot riding on this,” Vic said.

“And you won’t be disappointed. Monday night?”

“I’m looking forward to it.” As they hung up, Vic felt more hopeful than he had in a long time.

When the workday was over, Vic headed straight to the Shelbyville house. No one would understand how excited he was more than Tony and Nikki.

“W
here’s Vic been lately?” Peyton had to ask Steve. He hadn’t seen Vic around for a couple of weeks.

“He’s training. On use of the sjambok.”

Peyton’s face went white, and Steve retorted with, “I assume from the look on your face that you’re familiar with the instrument.”

“Uh, yeah,” Peyton almost whispered. “I was involved in martial arts for years before and after the service.” He looked at Steve like he was deranged. “You’re not planning to let him use that here, are you?”

“Yep. My idea.”

“Uh-huh.” Peyton looked at Laura. “Well, I’ve got to go follow the lieutenant governor around. I’ll see you tomorrow maybe?”

“Yeah, okay.” Laura shot Peyton a funny look before turning back to Steve. “What was that all about?”

“I see Stokes doesn’t approve.” Steve grinned and headed toward his office.

So Vic had been training;
that’s
where he’d been for the last couple of weeks. Even though she told herself she didn’t want to see him, she’d wondered where he was – maybe a little too much.

“Hey, cuz. Everything going okay?” Vic was concerned that he’d piled too much on Tony by taking the three weeks off.

Tony put those concerns to rest. “Going good! I’m enjoying being back out there in the truck, jobsite to jobsite, working with the guys. That grandbaby isn’t even here yet and she’s already keeping us busy; Katie’s having terrible morning sickness and Nikki’s been going over there every morning, trying to help them so Annabeth can make it to work. I don’t think she even notices that I’m gone.”

“Oh, I don’t believe that! Listen up, I just don’t want the two of you screwing around on my truck seat. I don’t need traces of your sexy mojo all over the backside of my jeans, okay?” Vic laughed.

“Don’t worry. We’re trying to keep our daylight humping protocol to a one point five.”

Vic chuckled. “What’s a point five?”

“Um, you don’t want to know. Let’s just say it drastically increases the evening humping protocol.

“Hmmm. You’re right – just keep that to yourself.”

“So, how’s everything going with you?” Tony asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Good – great, in fact. I’m learning a lot about the sjambok, and this guy is someone Steve knows from the club, so I’m getting a refresher course on the whole lifestyle, the relationships, everything. I thought I was already pretty knowledgeable, but this guy is really in touch. You know, here I am, over fifty, no telling how many women I’ve been with over the years, and I never realized how complex the sexual aspect of the human being is. I feel kinda stupid.”

“Don’t. Remember that New Year’s Eve when I told you I’d had sex two years earlier, but I didn’t date?”

“Yeah, I remember that. I never knew what that was about.” If Tony had wanted to pique Vic’s curiosity, he’d managed.

“Well, if you’ve got a minute I’ll fill you in.” Tony told Vic all about how he’d realized that, after thirty-two years of crazy Dottie, he didn’t know shit about sex and hired a hooker, who then connected him with a woman who taught him, in ten eight-hour sessions, everything he could possibly want to know and more. “And, that,
mio fratello,
is how I managed to not make a complete idiot of myself in bed with that beautiful woman I’m married to.”

“Wow.” Vic didn’t know what to say. “I mean, wow. So I’m not the only one who’s had issues.”

“Bud, we all do. I’ve got ‘em, you’ve got ‘em, Nikki’s got ‘em.” He stopped for a second, then added, “Laura’s got ‘em.”

His comment surprised Vic. “What made you think of her?”

“I dunno. I just did. There’s something there, and I don’t know what it is, but somebody, somewhere down the line, needs to unlock that door and let that girl walk through. She came over the other day to do some stuff with Nik, and she’s got the weirdest energy of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Boy, you can say that again,
Vic thought.
I don’t know if I’d have enough years left in my life to get down to the bottom of that.

“You ready for the evening?” Steve asked Laura. She was drying glasses and setting up the liquor for the evening.

“Yeah, but if you’re going to constantly reassign Stokes, maybe you should just make me the regular bartender,” she growled.

“Maybe I should,” Steve flashed her a snotty smirk.

“I was being sarcastic,” she deadpanned.

“I wasn’t. Be careful what you ask for.” He walked away.

“Hey!” He turned and looked back at her, and she made a motion for him to come closer. When he reached the bar, she whispered, “Hey, is Cabrizzi about done with his training? He was hanging out here, and now I don’t see him anywhere.”

“He’s busy, but I’ll tell him you asked after him,” Steve said as he walked away again.

“Not necessary!” Laura called out to him, but he waved her off as he disappeared around the corner.
Great. I’m fucked,
she told herself.