Free The Dead List by Jennifer L. Armentrout

do is stomp a foot.”
    “Stomp a foot?” My brows rose.
    “Yep. Bring your leg up—you’re right handed, right? Use your right leg and slam your foot down on mine as hard as you can.”
    Jensen walked me through it and then he switched to a different tactic. In a smooth, rolling voice, he instructed me in the different ways to break a bear hug. One involved shifting to the side and bending down. By extending my arm back, I could get a good crotch shot in.
    Swinging back toward that area on him was about seven kinds of awkward.
    “Come on,” he coaxed. “I know there have been plenty of times you’ve wanted to hit me in the balls, so I know you can do better than that.”
    I grinned despite everything. “Now that you mention it…” I swung my arm back, stopping at the last possible moment. When I felt his chest rise sharply, a disturbing amount of satisfaction whipped through me. “How’s that?”
    “Uh, yeah, that’s much better.”
    I dropped my phone on the mat, but kept my keys for the next round. Another involved bringing my knee up and kicking it back into the assailants’ knee. He went over that until I got the hang of the motion, and a few more utilizing the same kind of technique.
    “I want you to go through this—the crotch shot. Don’t hit me,” he said. “I just want to throw that out there. When I let go, you have two options. Run like hell.”
    “Sounds like a good option.”
    He ignored that. “Or you fight. Okay? We’re going to start from the beginning.” He released his hold and when I started to look back at him, he snapped forward, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back.
    I did as he instructed. First, I raised my right leg and stomped my foot down on his. Jensen grunted and his grip loosened enough to give me some room. Holding onto my keys, I shifted to my left as I bent at the waist. Extending my right arm, I swung it back, my hand knocking off his inner thigh. Close enough for him to suck in an unsteady breath. He let go as I wrenched forward.
    Two options. Fight. Or flight.
    I didn’t think it through as I spun around, facing him. Jensen had started forward, but drew up short when I raised my hand back with the keys.
    His brows, darker than his sandy hair, rose. “You’re going to fight?”
    Breathing heavily, I watched him. Would I fight? I’d gotten free Saturday night and I’d run. I hadn’t gotten very far. “Seems like a smart thing to do would be to injure the person and then run.”
    “It would be, but I would rather you run.”
    I frowned, thinking by choosing to fight I’d done the right thing. “Why?”
    He looked away for only a moment, and then he shot forward, wrapping his large hand clean around my wrist. He hauled me against him, chest to chest. The contact frazzled my senses and I dropped the keys.
    Like a total loser.
    Jensen lowered his head, coming so close that his mouth was inches from mine. “You should’ve probably held onto those keys.”
    “No shit.”
    “Although, there’s not much you can do with the keys when I’m holding your wrist,” he pointed at.
    “Double no shit.”
    “When did you get such a mouth on you?”
    “When you weren’t around,” I shot back without really thinking about it.
    “Good point.” His gaze dropped for a moment and then rose, the hue of his eyes deepening to a magnetic blue. “See how easy that was? That’s why I’d want you to run. Not to mention you have no idea where to even shove your keys.”
    “How about in your face?”
    “All I have to do is lean back.” He didn’t lean back, though. If anything, it felt like he got closer. A sweet, low simmering warmth washed down my neck. “If you’re going to fight, you need to really know how to fight, Ella. If not, you need to get away. That’s the smart thing to do. That’s what we teach in self-defense. How to utilize these moves to get away. Not to turn around and engage.”
    “But I did get away,” I whispered, and my lashes