as Four, the Guardian assigned to teach me how to defend myself. We never talked about things like the kind of pizza we preferred. Or whether coffee is a necessity or the foulest drink on the planet. We’re diametrically opposed on the coffee front, by the way.
As for Griff, he insists I continue to work on my self-defense training. I thought I had that shit locked down, but evidently, I have a lot to learn. When not sleeping, eating, or fucking, he drills me relentlessly in the evasion techniques I need to master. Based heavily on Krav Maga, the premiere self-defense method on the planet, this skill is supposed to keep me safe.
I need to confide in him and extend that trust, but I can’t stop beating myself up about what I did. I killed two men—one by my own hand and the other by premeditated action.
The pizzas are amazing, not that I expect otherwise. We eat, clean the dishes, and ignore all the issues we’ve been side-stepping around these past few days.
After lunch, I head outside, where I enjoy the California sunshine. Griff disappears to work out in his home gym. I never understood how much time and effort went into maintaining his Guardian physique, but I have a pretty good idea now.
The man’s a machine.
And can I say how appreciative I am of the results?
As for our sparring, most of our sessions on the mat end with sex. There’s just something supremely erotic about grappling and fighting that turns us both on. We practice in the evening, which means I have a few hours to lose myself in a book while Griff works his body down in the gym.
I’ve yet to take him down, which pisses me off because Griff’s holding back. He protects his leg, doing his best to listen to doctor’s orders and take things easy. We talk about what it may mean if his leg doesn’t heal.
I worry. He does not.
I don’t know if that’s male stupidity or overwhelming confidence. Either way, I leave him to do what he does best while I get lost in my book.
As for tomorrow, I’m scared.
Twenty-Two
Griff
With more trepidation than I’m willing to admit, I drive Moira to the Facility as the sun rises over the eastern hills. Morning is my favorite time of day. I love waking before dawn. There’s something about pounding out a five or ten-mile run before the sun crests the horizon that makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something for the day.
It’s been a week and a half since I’ve pounded the pavement. Doc Summers’ words echo in my head; threats of permanent disability aren’t something I can sweep under the rug.
In the afternoons, when Moira escapes into her books, I double-down on my upper body and core workouts. From the waist up, I’m ripped and more defined than I’ve ever been in my life. From the waist down, the atrophy in my legs bothers me.
“You ready for this?” I reach across the seat and grasp Moira’s hand. She’s been unusually quiet during the drive in.
“No.”
“Do you have an idea what you’re going to do?”
“Well, first things first, I’m going to my room to pack.”
The smile lifting my lips isn’t something I can contain. Moira could choose to return to the Facility, but she’s decided to stay with me.
This trip is a necessity for her to gather her things to bring home, but there’s more to it than that. With each mile we put behind us, she comes closer to facing some hard truths.
There are people there who can help her if she opens up to them. But if she does that, leaving becomes problematic. The Facility likes to keep things in-house. They’re not going to be happy with her decision to stay with me. Not that they can do anything about it. Moira isn’t one of their legal wards. They have no grounds on which to force her to stay. That doesn’t mean they won’t try.
Moira and I both worry about them pressuring her to spend just a little more time at the Facility to work through her issues.
“And after you pack?” I try to draw her out and get her to talk to me. If she won’t tell me what happened on that ship, I want her to at least trust one of her counselors with that truth.
“If you’re asking whether I arranged an appointment, the answer is yes. But I’m still not ready.”
“We never are.” I grasp her hand and give it