26 - One Step Closer
Relief coursed through Carlos as Steph walked through the doors of the gym the next morning and her face lit up in a small smile when she spotted him. Despite the major turn around Steph had exhibited during their middle of the night discussion after he'd rescued her from her handcuffs, he worried that the attitude shift would have died out or been forgotten by the time she woke up this morning. The fact that she seemed pleased to see him was a good sign, though, and he hoped that it meant the angsty part of their reunion was now in the past.
His desire to know more about her life these days hadn't dissipated. In fact, the more time he spent with her, the more she pushed him away, the more he wanted to understand who his best friend was as an adult.
Last night was a start. She'd explained the most recent events in her life that had led to her blackmailing her cousin into giving her a job as a bounty hunter despite her complete lack of skill in the area. And he had to admit, it read like the beginning of a screwball comedy movie: Lingerie buyer (he couldn't think too hard about that or he'd get, well, hard) loses her job, her car and her apartment, over the course of only a couple of months and takes a job she is wildly underqualified for. All that was missing was a sidekick and it could be a buddy-cop type situation.
Carlos could be that sidekick if she'd let him, but he'd be damned if he participated in the screwball comedy part. Like it or not, Steph was determined to bring Morelli in, and with their high school rivalry as fuel to the fire burning inside her, let alone the fact that he'd broken into her apartment and handcuffed her to the shower curtain rod (another detail he had to actively stop himself from thinking about), there was likely no persuading her from her goal. The best he could do was ensure she was well equipped for the task. And that started with training. He could work on convincing her to leave bounty hunting once he was more secure in their renewed relationship.
"What are you doing here?" Steph asked as she approached, her high ponytail swinging side to side.
"You said you had a session this morning. I spoke to Tim and he agreed to let me take your training." He paused, watching her expression for signs of rejection, but there were none. Only a slight surprise and perhaps a question forming in the front of her mind. "Don't worry, I ensured he's compensated for the private session he would have had with you."
A smirk lifted the corner of her mouth and she tipped her head to the side, her curls cascading over her shoulder. "You paid off my trainer?"
Carlos mirrored her head movement with a tiny tilt of his own, just a twitch to the left, really. "It was that, or you do twice the amount of training, because as good as Tim is at teaching self defence for women, he doesn't have the skills you'll need for a takedown."
She seemed to think about that for a second, then nodded. "Good choice," she agreed. "How much do I owe you?"
"No price, Babe."
Her brow furrowed and Carlos worried he'd said the wrong thing, that she was going to turn on her heel and walk away from him and he'd have to start from square one all over again. Thankfully, though her keen analysing expression remained, so did she as she asked, "What do you mean, 'no price'?"
A second surge of relief trickled through his veins. It looked like she was serious about making amends. "I mean there's no price I wouldn't pay to ensure you are safe, and I would never expect you to pay me back for it." He just stopped himself from uttering the most vulnerable part of his explanation: you're important to me. It was as true today as it was back in high school and college, but he didn't think Steph was ready to hear it just yet. Not after the obvious hurt she was still dealing with where he was concerned.
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "I'll find a way to pay you back," she declared, swinging her gym bag off her shoulder and depositing it on the bench nearby. "So, where do we start?"
"We start by analysing the situations you've already found yourself in and ensuring you know how to save yourself if they were to happen again."
Steph just nodded, rocking back on her heels with an expectant expression.
"Tell me how Ramirez managed to get you on the ground?" Carlos asked. It was an image that had been playing on his mind ever since, and he wanted to be sure no one ever got her in that position again.
"He grabbed my ponytail, and pulled me backwards," she explained, shifting her weight awkwardly
The movement reminded Carlos of the injury she'd sustained during the altercation, and his gaze drifted down to the smooth lines of her leggings. No bulk from the compression bandage Bobby had given her. "How's your knee?" he asked. The last thing he wanted to do was exacerbate the injury with the training he had planned.
Steph shrugged. "It's fine. Doesn't really hurt."
"How long did Bobby say to keep it bandaged?"
Another shrug. "It feels fine."
Carlos shook his head. "That's not what I asked, Steph. Should you be wearing it?"
"It doesn't fit under the leggings," she sighed, but he watched as she stooped to retrieve the bandage from a side pocket of her gym bag. "In case you haven't noticed, the leggings are skin tight. The bandage kept rolling every time I tried to pull them up."
He had noticed. He'd have to be dead or blind to not notice. And the attention she brought to the fact made him almost painfully aware. "Did you try putting it on over the leggings?" he asked, trying to focus on his point: making sure she didn't hurt herself further.
Steph rolled her eyes and plopped down on the bench next to her bag. "It seems so obvious now that you've said it out loud." She toed off her shoe and leaned forward, giving Carlos an unanticipated view of her cleavage.
This training may well be the death of him.
Willing his gaze away from the view he'd been granted before he embarrassed himself (or worse, someone noticed and called security), Carlos focused on the movements of Steph's hands instead as she adjusted the tight fabric tube over her knee on top of the legging and slipped her shoe back on.
"Better," Carlos said with a small nod as she stood once more. "We'll take it easy today. Walk through a few scenarios and steps you can take to get out of them, but we won't properly simulate them until your knee is better." He paused, glancing at the curls spilling behind her shoulders from the high ponytail. His fingers itched to touch her hair. "Tell me what happened with Ramirez," he requested again, tipping his head towards the mat for her to follow him as he took a few steps backwards to the middle of the area.
Steph took her place directly in front of him, bouncing a little on the springy floor as her gaze flitted from Carlos's face to his exposed arms and then further down. When she dragged her eyes up again Carlos had to suppress a shudder as he felt it like a physical caress on his body.
"We were standing kinda like this," she explained, gesturing between them. "And I turned to leave, but he grabbed my neck."
Carlos ground his teeth together as his attention shot to the column of her throat. Her skin was clear now and he hadn't noticed any bruising in the few encounters they'd had since the incident, but the thought of someone coming close enough to choke her, to cut off her air and attempt to extinguish her life…
He took a quick breath and stepped forward, lifting his hand to hover in front of her throat for a second - just long enough to warn her of his intentions in case she wasn't comfortable - before he made contact and wrapped his fingers loosely around her neck.
"Like this?" he asked, dragging his attention from the rapid beating of her pulse against his fingers, up past her parted lips to meet her wide-eyed gaze.
She shook her head, swallowing twice before she managed to speak. "No."
"Show me," Carlos instructed.
Slowly, her eyes never leaving his, she reached up and moved his hand to the back of her neck, adjusting his grip by pressing his fingers into the right position. When she lowered her hand again, she closed her eyes briefly, sucking in a deep breath as her expression tightened.
"I'm not gonna hurt you, Steph," he told her, feeling like she needed the reminder. "You're safe." He stroked his thumb back and forth in what he hoped was a soothing motion while he waited to see those beautiful blue eyes pop open again. "What happened next?"
"He pulled me down," she said, lifting one hand to lay it on top of his and press down so he understood where the pressure came from as she stooped in front of him. Instinctively, Carlos lowered his stance to match and she nodded, letting go of his hand so she could position her body how it had been. "Then I twisted out of his grasp and swung my purse at his head," Steph explained, slowly demonstrating the motion and miming the arc of her back in Carlos's direction, freezing at the end of the combination.
"You had your purse with you," Carlos said, more as a reminder to himself as he played out the scene she'd just described a couple of times in his head, making a mental note of details that needed to change.
Steph just nodded, a curious expression on her face as she watched him. He felt exposed under her scrutiny in a way that only a handful of people had managed to make him feel in his adult life. It was like she could see past all his defenses and was watching every cog and wheel turn in his brain. With time, he had no doubt that she'd be able to understand all the ins and outs of his thought patterns, which both terrified and thrilled him. Allowing anyone to know him on that level was dangerous, but Stephanie Plum wasn't just anyone.
"What happened next?" Carlos prompted.
She blinked and glanced down at her own hands still holding the imaginary bag strap. "I ran for the door," she said.
"Where?"
"It was behind me. I had to turn my back on him."
Carlos gestured for her to demonstrate once again, and she turned away from him, taking a few hasty steps and reaching for an invisible door handle. She froze again and glanced over her shoulder to him.
"That's when he grabbed my hair," she told him, waiting while he closed the distance and snagged her ponytail in his grip. "He pulled me back and around and I landed face down on the floor with Ramirez on my back." As she spoke, she guided them both through an approximation of the actions, but remained upright.
Carlos knew the position she'd been in when he burst into the scene so he didn't need her to demonstrate it, but just the memory had his fists itching to slam into the boxer's face over and over until all that was left of it was a bloody pulp.
Squashing the urges down, he untangled his hand from her hair and stepped back, surveying their surroundings for a moment while he thought through next steps. He hadn't factored in Steph's injury when he'd decided to crash her training time, but it was probably a good thing he'd crashed it, since he was eighty percent sure that Steph wouldn't have mentioned it to Tim.
There were certainly things they could work on, but the more practical side would have to wait, as he'd told her.
"A few more preparation-based suggestions first," Carlos said, propping his hands on his hips as he eyed his friend carefully, watching for any adverse reactions to what he was about to say. "You've gotta limit the grab points." Her blank stare let him know that he needed to elaborate further, so he darted a hand out to fist in her hair, then the other to secure a hold on the oversized t-shirt she wore, using both to drag her in close. "Loose clothing, long loose hair, bags," he listed. "These are all easy to grab in a scuffle. They're like the flags in flag football, except they're more secure, so they'll do more damage when yanked."
"I'm not cutting my hair," Steph informed him, crossing her arms over her chest as Carlos released her and stepped back once more, lest he let his thoughts run wild with how easy it would be to lean down and press his lips to hers. "Deb would kill me this close to his wedding. Not to mention the fact that I'd look like a fucking poodle."
The corner of Carlos's lips tipped up. "I'm not suggesting you cut it," he pointed out. "But you need to contain it. Braids, buns. Hell, sticking it under a cap will work provided the cap stays in place."
"Okay," she said slowly. "And I guess, wearing tight clothes? But what about my bag? I need everything that's inside it."
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Everything, Babe?" Having grown up with three older sisters, Carlos had witnessed the amount of pointless crap that got stuffed into handbags more times than he could count. He could almost guarantee that at least fifty percent of what was currently in Steph's purse wasn't necessary to carry around day to day.
"Almost everything," she conceded.
"We'll figure out the bag situation later," Carlos assured her. "For now, I want to run through the scenario a couple times and figure out what you could have done differently to turn the tables." He gestured for her to follow him closer to the centre of the mat and take up their beginning positions again. "Your first mistake was turning away from your opponent."
"Oh good," Steph said sarcastically. "I was wondering when we would be pointing out my flaws."
"You can't learn if you don't know what you did wrong," Carlos countered, his tone even. He'd been expecting the defiance to sneak back in at some point during their lesson, and he was prepared to ignore it in favour of focusing on the task at hand. "And they're not flaws, they're points for improvement."
Her lips pursed, but she didn't argue, so Carlos continued on to walk her through options for what she could have done differently at each point in the altercation. The suggestions ranged from ducking and weaving, to leveraging Ramirez's momentum to flip him over her shoulder, though she seemed skeptical she would be capable of the latter. And eventually, they got to the final position. The one that had burned itself into Carlos's retinas and haunted his dreams. While she'd been knocked around physically up until that point, he didn't like to think about how close she'd come to being assaulted sexually. If he hadn't been at that set of traffic lights at just the right moment to see her car go by…
Steph was laid out on the floor, having just lowered herself slowly after Carlos's mock attack and as he climbed on top of her, settling some of his weight on her back as his legs locked her arms to her sides, he had to crack open his mental box of horrors a little more. This absolutely wasn't the position he wanted Steph in, but his body was interested in the feel of her under him nonetheless.
"How did he even manage to trap your arms?" Carlos asked, peering down at her position as he ran a hand down her left arm. It made no sense. It was human instinct to throw your hands out in front of you to break your fall, which meant Steph's arms should have been free.
"I don't know," Steph said, her voice sounding strained, her breathing shallow.
Carlos lifted more of his weight off her, and was about to ask if she was alright when a low whistle from nearby drew his attention to one of the last faces he wanted to see right that second.
"Geez, Steph, looks like you got yourself in quite the predicament, there," Lester said, striding across the mat to examine the hold from a few different angles. "I don't know whether to give you pointers on how to get out of it, or offer to clear out the rest of the gym so you can have some privacy."