Bitten (Once Bitten, Twice Shy #1)(86)

Both girls startled when the sound of a door banging open echoed through the nearly empty parking lot. Katherine glanced at the school, sighing in relief when she saw Markus heading toward them, shrugging on his worn, plaid jacket as he did so.

About time.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Melanie sulked for a moment, before abruptly changing her demeanor and offering Katherine one last smile. “But, hey, if you change your mind, we’re heading to my place right after school tomorrow. I have a couple of outfits that would fit you if you don’t have anything club appropriate to wear. See you!” she called as she walked away.

As fond as she was of her friend, Katherine barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes at Melanie’s exuberance. Apparently, however, she couldn’t completely mask her incredulity from Markus, who smirked when he saw her expression.

“Ready to go, princess?” he asked, digging the truck’s keys out of one of his jacket’s many pockets and unlocking the vehicle’s doors.

“Definitely,” she agreed, not even bothering to object to the man’s ridiculous nickname for her as she pulled herself up onto the beige passenger seat.

Markus had the truck started and was darting out of the parking lot before Katherine even had the chance to pull the safety belt across her chest. “What’s the rush?” she asked, struggling to pull the strap free from the loop over her shoulder.

Huffing in mild annoyance, Markus reached across the cab, buckling the seat belt for her with his right hand while his left remained firmly on the wheel.

Katherine struggled not to blush. She must have successfully kept the red that threatened to blossom across her face at bay as he refrained from commenting on her complexion. Instead, he smirked at her. “No rush. I just thought you’d want to fit fight club in before Bastian got back from his uncle’s place.”

Katherine beamed.





#


Katherine glared.

When the words “punch me” had escaped Markus’s mouth, she’d been suspicious. Especially when she’d spotted Zane’s amused half smile.

Despite her reservations, however, the brunette had listened to the man. She’d balled up her fingers and swung. And then, when her fist was inches from his face, Markus caught it. Raising an unimpressed eyebrow, he easily shoved her fist – and as a result, her – away from him.

He’d pushed hard enough to knock her over, and she landed on her butt. Of course.

Hence, the glaring.

“That had to have been the saddest excuse for a punch I’ve ever seen someone throw,” Markus scoffed loudly as Zane, whose half smile had transformed into a full-blown grin, helped her to her feet.

Flat out ignoring the way she glowered at him, Markus grabbed her right wrist as soon as Zane had pulled her up. “Hey!”

“Thankfully, I’m here to teach you the right way to do it. Now, make a fist.”

Katherine rolled her eyes at the man’s abrasiveness, but did as she was told, curling her fingers around her thumb just as she had moments before.

Markus frowned, using the hand that wasn’t holding her wrist steady to quickly unbend her fingers. “Never tuck in your thumb like that. If you’d actually managed to hit me earlier – and your thumb was like that – you probably would have broken it.”

Katherine blinked. “Oh.”

She applied his correction, making sure her thumb stayed on the outside of her fingers this time as she made a fist.

“Better. Now, do you see how your knuckles protrude a bit when you ball up your hand? When you throw your next punch, make sure you lead with them, alright? Not the flat your fingers.” Markus released her wrist. “Zane, fix her stance.”

Jumping into action, Zane helped her separate her feet so that they were a good twelve inches apart, her left foot well ahead of her right. “The key to putting your weight behind a punch,” he explained, “is to shift your weight from your back leg to your front as you lean in to hit your opponent. There’s no need to actually wind up and pull your fist behind your head. Think jabs, not swings. Got it?”

“Got it,” Katherine assured, replaying both men’s instructions in her head. Shift weight forward. Jab, don’t swing. Lead with knuckles.

“Alright,” Markus said, stealing her attention, “now let’s try this again. Punch me.”

Wary after what had happened the last time she’d complied with that particular request, Katherine hesitated. When Markus sighed impatiently, however, she forced herself to disregard her misgivings and once again took aim.

Just as before, the man stopped her fist well before it could connect with his face. “Wrong,” he sniped, making his displeasure clear.

Tearing her hand from his before he could push her over again, Katherine furrowed her brows. “Wrong? What do you mean wrong? I was following your instructions.”

“Sure,” he agreed, “but you went for my face – easy to anticipate and block.”

“I was aiming for your nose. You’re the one who taught me that it was one of the body’s main weak spots,” Katherine argued.

“You’re right. But while a broken nose would hurt, it would only incapacitate your opponent for so long. If you could even connect your hit at all, that is. Not only is it easy to anticipate, but a nose is a pretty small target. A much smarter move would have been to go for the throat.”