Read Online Wounded Angel (The Earth Angels) by Stacy Gail - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stacy Gail
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to do now is play the role of attacker to the hilt.”
“Can’t you play Creepy Bad Guy first?”
“Somehow I don’t think anyone’s going to buy that.”
“I’ll try to look helpless.”
“Even if you were in a coma you wouldn’t look helpless. Now behave yourself and put your arms around me.”
A predatory expression struck like lightning across his face. “Now we’re talking.”
“From the back, like an attacker,” she expanded before he could get too excited. Or she could get too dazzled by that hefty dose of male appreciation. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“I’ll just loosely circle you with my arms and make it look like I mean business.”
“Not good enough. These people need to have a dose of reality, so do your worst. Act like you want to tear me apart, like I’m nothing more than weak meat to you.”
The light that had brought his eyes to life vanished with an ominous chill. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a big guy. I don’t want to hurt or scare you, so I think you’d better pick someone—”
“I picked you, so follow the instructions before I kick your butt out of my class.” The look she threw at him felt hot enough to scorch. What was it about her that made everyone think she should be treated like a delicate flower? “All right, class. Try to imagine what it would be like. A person comes up from behind and grabs you like they’ve got a world of nasty growing inside of them, and all they want to do is take it out on you.” When he didn’t move, she tried to cover with a smile while talking out of the side of her mouth. “Step closer.”
He did, reluctantly. “At this juncture I would like to file a formal complaint. I am not a happy camper.”
“Duly noted. All right,” she said, raising her voice so everyone in the room could hear her. “Just as we learned in the frontal-attack class, the main goal for us now is not to beat the opponent into submission—this isn’t a boxing match where you have to knock your opponent out in order to win the prize. Your only goal is to incapacitate your attacker and get away . And just like we learned in the last class, the points of attack that you should focus on are the eyes, nose, throat, groin, the instep and knees. Is everyone ready?”
Behind her, she heard a glum sigh. “No.”
“The person behind you attacks, using what we commonly call the bear-hug hold to drag you to a place where they wish to control you. Now is the best opportunity you’ll have to save your life.” She again glanced over her shoulder when nothing happened. “Do it.”
Nate gave her what might have been the dirtiest look in the history of dirty looks. Then with another sigh any martyr would have envied, he moved like lightning to clamp massive arms around her. In that instant, when sheer brawn surrounded her, a wave of alarm slammed into her with the force of a brass-knuckled punch. It bubbled up from that malignant place where she kept all the nightmares that weren’t really nightmares, and spread through her system like a paralyzing poison. Just like it did the first time around, when she was nothing but a...
A victim.
No .
The force of his hold was so strong it lifted her off her feet, a position that would send anyone into panic-mode. Off the feet meant no control of where the body went. Or at least that was what it meant if the brain drowned in that deadly, trapped-animal kind of fear. With a strength of will honed by countless hours of Jacob-driven practice, Ella forced herself to focus on the body pressed against hers, calculated the general area of where his knee was, and sent her heel rocketing back.
The connection wasn’t as solid as she would have liked, bouncing off the kneecap to the outside of his knee, but his grunt and the loosening of his arms to instinctively distance himself from the source of discomfort was all she needed to drop, crouch back into his personal space and aim a nasty chop to his Adam’s
“Can’t you play Creepy Bad Guy first?”
“Somehow I don’t think anyone’s going to buy that.”
“I’ll try to look helpless.”
“Even if you were in a coma you wouldn’t look helpless. Now behave yourself and put your arms around me.”
A predatory expression struck like lightning across his face. “Now we’re talking.”
“From the back, like an attacker,” she expanded before he could get too excited. Or she could get too dazzled by that hefty dose of male appreciation. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“I’ll just loosely circle you with my arms and make it look like I mean business.”
“Not good enough. These people need to have a dose of reality, so do your worst. Act like you want to tear me apart, like I’m nothing more than weak meat to you.”
The light that had brought his eyes to life vanished with an ominous chill. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a big guy. I don’t want to hurt or scare you, so I think you’d better pick someone—”
“I picked you, so follow the instructions before I kick your butt out of my class.” The look she threw at him felt hot enough to scorch. What was it about her that made everyone think she should be treated like a delicate flower? “All right, class. Try to imagine what it would be like. A person comes up from behind and grabs you like they’ve got a world of nasty growing inside of them, and all they want to do is take it out on you.” When he didn’t move, she tried to cover with a smile while talking out of the side of her mouth. “Step closer.”
He did, reluctantly. “At this juncture I would like to file a formal complaint. I am not a happy camper.”
“Duly noted. All right,” she said, raising her voice so everyone in the room could hear her. “Just as we learned in the frontal-attack class, the main goal for us now is not to beat the opponent into submission—this isn’t a boxing match where you have to knock your opponent out in order to win the prize. Your only goal is to incapacitate your attacker and get away . And just like we learned in the last class, the points of attack that you should focus on are the eyes, nose, throat, groin, the instep and knees. Is everyone ready?”
Behind her, she heard a glum sigh. “No.”
“The person behind you attacks, using what we commonly call the bear-hug hold to drag you to a place where they wish to control you. Now is the best opportunity you’ll have to save your life.” She again glanced over her shoulder when nothing happened. “Do it.”
Nate gave her what might have been the dirtiest look in the history of dirty looks. Then with another sigh any martyr would have envied, he moved like lightning to clamp massive arms around her. In that instant, when sheer brawn surrounded her, a wave of alarm slammed into her with the force of a brass-knuckled punch. It bubbled up from that malignant place where she kept all the nightmares that weren’t really nightmares, and spread through her system like a paralyzing poison. Just like it did the first time around, when she was nothing but a...
A victim.
No .
The force of his hold was so strong it lifted her off her feet, a position that would send anyone into panic-mode. Off the feet meant no control of where the body went. Or at least that was what it meant if the brain drowned in that deadly, trapped-animal kind of fear. With a strength of will honed by countless hours of Jacob-driven practice, Ella forced herself to focus on the body pressed against hers, calculated the general area of where his knee was, and sent her heel rocketing back.
The connection wasn’t as solid as she would have liked, bouncing off the kneecap to the outside of his knee, but his grunt and the loosening of his arms to instinctively distance himself from the source of discomfort was all she needed to drop, crouch back into his personal space and aim a nasty chop to his Adam’s
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