Her Name Is Knight(Nena Knight #1)(83)

She and Georgia toured the facility. The gym was small and looked more like a boxing training facility. Didn’t have the purple of Planet Fitness or orange of Orangetheory. There weren’t a lot of people there, just a thick punching bag suspended from the ceiling and, in a back room, an expansive blue mat taking up much of the floor space. Georgia wondered aloud if they were about to practice gymnastics.

“You asked how I learned to fight,” Nena began, settling her eyes on the younger girl. “It wasn’t for pleasure, okay? It was for a purpose.”

“Okay,” Georgia prompted.

“The type of fighting you witnessed that night is called Krav Maga. It’s not easy, and it takes years to learn.”

“What is it? Like kung fu or something?”

Nena pulled a face. “No. There is no liberal philosophy with Krav. It’s about doing whatever you have to and using whatever is around you to be the one that lives. Do you understand?”

“Think so.”

“Krav is about acting by your instincts and using techniques that are simple and effective to get you away. It essentially makes you a human weapon.”

Georgia cracked a grin. “That sounds pretty fucking cool.”

Nena gave her a sharp look.

“Sorry,” Georgia mumbled sheepishly. She bent down to untie her shoelaces. “Should I take my shoes off and get on the mat?”

“Do you plan to have your shoes off when you’re attacked?” Nena asked curiously.

Georgia hesitated as if trying to determine if she was serious or not.

She was.

“No,” Georgia drawled when Nena didn’t answer. “I guess not?” It came out as a question. She seemed to wilt beneath Nena’s intense scrutiny.

Nena said, “When the girl from your school put the gum in your hair, what did you do?”

Georgia offered a limp shrug. “Do? Where?”

“When you fought.”

“I never said I fought.”

“You didn’t just stand there either. Show me,” Nena prompted.

“But what does that have to do with learning combatives?”

Nena didn’t answer, instead channeling her inner Witt.

Georgia gave in, positioning Nena as Sasha’s stand-in. She pantomimed hitting Sasha in the mouth by tapping Nena on hers. Nena blinked away her surprise at the unexpected force of the blow.

Georgia grinned, pleased she’d gotten one in.

She grasped Nena’s arm, recalling how she’d twisted Sasha’s until the girl had cried out in pain and embarrassment. When Georgia dropped Nena’s arm, she stepped back.

“And that’s when Coach came in and broke it up.”

“That’s all?” Nena asked.

Georgia’s head bobbed in several short nods.

“Was quick,” Nena observed, lightly touching her smarting lip. Little bugger. “Not bad.”

Georgia sighed with relief.

“Most fights are quick. Not long and drawn out like you see in the movies. And you tire fast because it takes a lot of energy to be that physical. Adrenaline is what pulls you through combat. You must use the little opportunity you have to get your opponent in a position for you to either get away or kill them.”

Georgia blinked multiple times. “Who said anything about killing?”

“Had you ever fought before? Before the racist girl?”

Georgia made a face that questioned Nena’s sanity. “No.”

“Self-defense, then. That’s what propels you.”

Georgia thought about it. “Yeah, especially because of the hair. And she made a slick comment about my mom,” she said between gritted teeth, fresh anger flooding her voice.

Nena nodded. She knew all too well about triggers. Nena’s own hair was a mass of brilliant, luscious coils now twisted in a thick rope of two braids and swirled into a bun at the base of her head. And there was that one time when Robach had made derogatory comments about her father and brothers. They were the last comments he’d made before she’d killed him.

“So your mother is your trigger.”

Georgia shrugged, toeing the edge of the mat. “I guess? And Dad too. No one can talk about my parents but especially my mom, since she’s gone.”

Who else but Nena would understand? “Let’s start with if you’re grabbed from behind.”

“Why from behind?”

“That is typically the case. Element of surprise.” She stopped, pursing her lips. “And I’d like to also work on if someone has a weapon on you.”

“A what? You think that’s going to happen to me?” Georgia choked out.

Nena frowned. “Hasn’t it already happened? Those gang guys?”

“Again. You cut me off before I could say ‘again.’”

Nena let out a cross between a cough and a snort. Georgia stared at her, wide eyed.

“I just made you laugh. Sort of. Was it a laugh? You need practice,” Georgia said, practically vibrating.

As quickly as Nena’s outburst had come upon them, her face blanked. “All sorts of things you never expect to happen can happen to you, and more than once. Remember that. Expect that.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s begin,” Nena said, pushing Georgia onto the mat facing the wall. From behind, she continued. “Couple things to remember. Fight with whatever is around you and in reach. Make anything a weapon.”