Free West-End Boys (Naïve Mistakes) by Rachel Dunning

too strong, now what?"
    I couldn't speak. Trey wasn't pulling any punches. He was really strangling me! I felt the blood collect in my face. I lifted my pelvis as high as I could, slammed it down, giving my elbows extra strength to push down and away against his arms and finally loosened his grip from around my neck.
    I saw him smile at my success (yeah, and I'm supposed to believe he wants to hurt me?)
    I didn't even take a breath, the next steps came to me like second-nature. I slid left, put my foot on his hip, then the other, pushed him away! Then I kicked him in the face, hard !
    "OK, OK, OK! Stop!" He held his hands up. "Thank the blooming Lord I'm wearing head gear!"
    I stood up, exhaled triumphantly.
    "Well done, Leora. But we will practice it more. You're lucky you worked out for so many years. Gives you an edge."
    I nodded, exhausted. "So when can I actually learn to kick some ass? I mean, that Krav Maga stuff?" All we'd done in the previous week had been self-defense stuff, not the Israeli Army solution to all problems East and West of The Holy City.
    Trey undid his hand-wraps, walked to the edge of the ring, leaned back once on the ropes. "I guess we could start now." He grinned. And something told me I was in for one helluva lesson...
    Trey started with the basics, the philosophy. "Krav Maga is about threat neutralization, simultaneous defense and offense, and aggression . It's street fighting, Leora. Now I understand you're a boxer?"
    I nodded.
    "Sadly, as a woman, that won't help you much. If you're a man, sure, boxing—if you're good at it—is great self-defense in the streets. Boxers spend years honing that one punch so that, correctly placed, it will knock a guy out. But a woman needs more than that.
    "Krav Maga is deadly, ruthless. Man or woman. It's an anything-goes philosophy, find a stone, a stick, dig your fingers into your attacker's eyes, kick his nuts, then kick them again, break his nose with the heel of your palm."
    Trey's eyes went dark, his face stern. His ebony skin was gilded by the setting sun shining in from the gym's high windows.
    "The main thing to understand, Leora, is that Krav Maga is about lack of restraint. Do what you can, when you can, defend yourself at all costs. You get that?"
    I did.
    And then he showed me.
    And then I really understood.
    -2-
    The moves were ruthless, thumbs in the eyes, elbows to the cheekbone, maximum destruction by extending the knee way back and pulling the guy down by the lapels before slamming up into his crotch. The goal was permanent damage. Then doing it again. Simultaneous kicks and punches, blocking, hitting.
    The damn thing empowered me. I felt myself wanting to take someone on, wanting to be given a chance to beat the crap out of that guy in that warehouse who'd sucker-kicked me in the ribs. By the end of our two-hour session, my chest burned like wildfire. In the corner of the ring, I dropped cross-legged, unable to stand anymore.
    "You did good," said Trey, ruffling my hair like I was some kid as he slid out under the ropes.
    In the distance, I heard a slow clap.
    I looked up. And there he was, backlit by a solitary lamp. My man.
    Conall smiled, looking slick in his trench coat, his hair styled back. "You look sexy in that corner, babe."
    I smiled at him, flashing him my black mouth guard. Then I gave him the finger. He walked up to me, kissed me through the ropes. The kiss was heaven after two hours of hell, fresh ice cream on an empty stomach.
    I must've tasted like shit, but Conall never let me know it. "Shower?" he said.
    "Do I stink that bad?"
    He rolled his eyes, pretended to faint.
    "Watch out, buster. I can pack quite a punch these days!" I held my fist up, but it felt like I was lifting a ten-ton anchor. "Oh, who am I kidding? I couldn't fight off a kitten right now."
    I somehow got myself out the ring and onto the gym floor, fell onto Conall's arms and he held me there, kissing my god-awful sweaty hair while I almost fell asleep on him.