Necessary Ends by Tina Whittle

Author:Tina Whittle [Whittle, Tina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781464209864
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press, Inc.
Published: 2017-12-22T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-eight

The class was scheduled to work on back choke, but I knew back choke so well I could do it in my sleep. Turn the head to relieve pressure on the windpipe. Drop the center of gravity to put your opponent off balance. Follow-up options abounded—thumb to the eye socket, elbow to the solar plexus, punch to the groin. So many ways to wreak havoc on the tender vulnerable parts of a no-goodnik.

Trey waited on the mat, barefoot. He didn’t bow or make any other acknowledgment when I joined him. This was no martial art we were practicing—no forms, no katas, no ritual politeness. Just down and dirty self defense.

I pulled out my handwraps. “You’re annoyed.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I realized we were at the crucial juncture where the rubber hits the road. Or not. The rubber could also spin in place and smoke and scorch and go absolutely nowhere.

I stood face to face with him. “We’re going to be separated. You didn’t see that coming, but since this whole investigation is your idea, you know you can’t back out of it. But you want to. Bad.”

He didn’t saying anything. I started wrapping my hand—three times around the wrist, five times around the palm, criss-cross between the fingers. Perfectly designed to distribute the force and protect the delicate metacarpals and phalanges.

“So yes,” I said, “you get to be annoyed, but you don’t get to—”

He snatched the wrap out of my hand without even breaking eye contact, then rolled it into a neat ball. “You’re right. I’m annoyed. I did not foresee that Finn would want us working separately, and I don’t like that. I should have expected she would, though—it’s good strategy—and that’s also annoying me. But mostly I’m annoyed that even though I thought I had progressed beyond this point, I have not. I still want to protect you. I can’t help it. It overrides logical processing.”

He moved even closer, toe to toe. I didn’t back up. He stuffed the handwrap into my waistband, leaving a piece dangling over my right hip.

“Today the class is working on back choke,” he said. “You, however, are working on close quarter weapons retention.”

And then he reached for the wrap. I moved away before he could get his fingers on it, but I knew he hadn’t really been trying. He was giving me a chance to get in gear. It wasn’t a courtesy a criminal would extend, but Trey did, at least in the first phase. The zone of proximal learning, he called it.

“Fine.” I adjusted my stance, opened my hands. “Let’s do this.”

No helmets. No shin guards. This wasn’t going to be rough. It was going to be fast, though.

Trey dropped his shoulders and took one step backward. I lowered my hands to waist level, angled my hip away from him. He was going for the weapon, in this case a balled-up piece of elastic on my hip, right where I’d side carry. He had speed and expertise on his side.

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