by Leslie North
Silence reigned in the training room.
“Great to meet you all,” Jace said, waving. “Vann’s handling the class today, but I’ll see you all tomorrow.” He raised his fist in a salute. “SEAL strong.”
“SEAL strong.” Mercy said, along with the rest of the class, returning his gesture as she watched him jog out of the building. Jace seemed nice. He certainly seemed much more affable than Vann was.
“All right, class. Let’s get started on today’s topic. Psychology of Defense and Danger Awareness.”
For the first two hours, the class proceeded as Mercy had suspected. She took copious notes and did her best to commit them all to memory, wanting to do well on that day’s test. Vann was a good teacher too, informative without being too wordy, animated without making a clown out of himself. She’d always had a thing for quiet, authoritative men anyway, and damn if he didn’t fit that bill nicely. If she didn’t live a half continent away in New Orleans, she might’ve considered dating a guy like him.
“Miss Conde?” Vann asked, jarring her out of her musings.
He, and everyone else in the class, was staring at her with expectant looks. And…shit. She’d completely zoned out there for a second and missed his question. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?”
One dark brow raised in annoyance, he said, “I asked what are the keys to surviving a dangerous situation?”
Slightly frazzled under his direct scrutiny, she scrambled through her notes, seeking the answer. She’d basically written down every word the guy had said so it had to be in there somewhere.
Crap, crap, crap.
Finally, her finger landed on the information he wanted. “Uh, preparation and awareness.”
“Thanks for proving my point,” he said, giving a derisive shake of his head before turning away. “Irony at its finest.”
Several snickers rang out around the class and Mercy felt like an ass.
“Don’t worry,” Hector said, nudging her shoulder with his. “You got this.”
Well, that made one person who thought so.
“Okay, class.” Vann clapped his hands and Mercy jumped slightly at the unexpected sound. “We’ll take a fifteen-minute break then come back to start the hands-on portion of the class.”
Hands-on?
As her classmates filed over toward the refreshment area set up against the far wall of the large room, Mercy tucked a long auburn curl behind her ear and set her binder aside. Vann had grabbed several dummies and was placing them around the mat. Feeling like she should apologize for her lapse in attention, she made her way over to him. “Sorry about that.”
Vann looked up at her from where he crouched on the mat. “Not paying attention out in the field isn’t an option, Mercy. You break concentration, you could end up dead.” He straightened to tower over her, his gaze narrowed. “I don’t care that you missed my question. I care about you potentially taking a bullet to the brain during a terrorist attack. I’m not trying to be hard on you; I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“Right.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts and rocked back on her heels. “So, hands-on training, huh?”
“That’s what I said.” He brushed past her to toss another plastic dummy on the mat. “If you want water for later, you better go get one now.”
Okay then. Mercy might not be proficient in direct combat, but she knew a brush-off when she heard one.
She walked away, praying her performance later would be better. If she could only fail two classes and still graduate, she needed to save those for the classes sure to give her the most problems—Strikes/Fit to Fight and Deadly Force Situations/Weapons Training. Otherwise, she could kiss this class and any hopes of securing the job from her parents goodbye.
Yeah, this is not going well.
Vann did his best to hide his cringe as Mercy stumbled and froze up against her partner. This time she was working with a skinny, twenty-something female computer technician named Sandy who seemed to know all the buttons to push to get Mercy to crumble. They’d been going at it all afternoon and most of the students were starting to show signs of fatigue.
Shaking his head, Vann moved closer to them. “Grab her again, Sandy.”
“From which angle?” Sandy asked, wiping sweat from her forehead.
“Whatever one you want. In real life, your attacker isn’t going to give you a choice, right?”
“Right.”
Sandy gave him a provocative smile and Mercy gave him the equivalent of a mental middle finger. Okay, well at least she still had some fight left in her, despite her abysmal performance today.
“Give me your wallet, you pathetic bitch!” Sandy yelled before grabbing Mercy from behind in a chokehold and pressing a plastic water pistol to her temple. “Do it!”
The gal was a bit too enthusiastic for Vann’s taste and he could’ve done without the name calling and bully tactics, but Mercy had to learn to have more confidence in herself. He crouched in front of her, keeping his gaze locked with hers. Even under the harsh fluorescent lights of the training center, her bright auburn curls sparkled and her turquoise-blue eyes shone. Vann had never gone for redheads before but Mercy Conde made even a loner like him second-guess his choices.
To help raise her esteem levels, he played to her strong suits—intelligence, problem solving. “What are the two internal triggers we need to neutralize during an attack?”
She struggled against Sandy’s hold, trying to flip the larger woman without success, before slumping. “Fear and ego.”
“Good. Do we want to eliminate those triggers?”
Mercy tried to swipe Sandy’s ankle out from beneath her as she’d done to Vann the day before and earned herself a stomp on the foot for her efforts. Even Vann winced at that one. Right on the instep. That had to hurt. Cheeks flushed and eyes squeezed shut, she gritted out, “No. We just want to raise our tolerance level so fear doesn’t overpower us and render us useless.”
Sandy chuckled and squeezed Mercy’s throat tighter. “Yep. That’s what you are, Conde. Useless.”
“Enough.” Vann stood, his own anger on Mercy’s behalf surprising him. He never usually got involved in student training exercises or broke up training altercations, no matter how rough they got, because he felt that would only make the student’s stronger. But Mercy…. Well, he’d agreed to get her through graduation and this wasn’t helping to make her stronger. Besides, Sandy was being a bully, pure and simple. And if there was one thing Vann hated, it was a bully. He exhaled slow to release some of the tension in his shoulders, and then nodded to Mercy. “Okay, switch places. Mercy you attack Sandy.”
The computer gal might be skinnier than Mercy, but she was taller and more muscular. Mercy was petite and soft and curvy and… Vann shook his head to clear those inappropriate thoughts. Mercy was a student. He was her teacher. That’s it. Sandy’s build and height would give her an advantage over Mercy though, no doubt about it.
Mercy sighed then circled around behind her opponent, looking the other woman over before narrowing her gaze, zeroing in on Sandy’s hamstring area. Smart girl. If she struck the other woman behind the knees and knocked her off balance, Mercy might be able to gain the upper hand and take her down, even with her smaller size. He nearly smiled. The execution of the maneuver, though, was lacking. She pulled her punches, lessening the effectiveness of the move and allowing Sandy crucial time to retaliate. Soon, Mercy found herself face down on the mat, with Sandy all but sitting atop her.
“Did I win that or what?” Sandy said, holding her hand up for a high-five from Vann.
He ignored the woman’s hand and instead shoved her off Mercy. “No. You both lost. Sandy, your ego will get you killed out in the real world. Over-confidence is the key to disaster. It will make you run headlong into situations you’re not prepared to handle.” He held down his hand to help Mercy up from the floor, and then gave her a stern look. “And you. Why didn’t you attack her like you meant it?”
“
I wanted to,” she said, lowering her head. “But then I didn’t want to hurt her and I kept thinking about what might happen if she turned suddenly and came at me instead and then I ended up messing it all up.” She shrugged. “Besides, I thought not getting into a fight in the first place was always the best course of action. I have that in my notes.”
Vann pursed his lips. Damn if she didn’t have a point. He had said that. Yeah, walking away was the best policy, but not right here, right now. In the training center was where they could practice without fear of consequences. In the real world? Not so much. The thought of Mercy up against some thug with a gun and a score to settle made his stomach churn. Turning her back on a guy like that could earn her a trip to the hospital, a sexual assault or worse….
Vann crossed his arms, scowling. “How are we going to fix this?”
“I don’t know.” Mercy finally met his gaze and the defeat he saw there nearly broke his heart. Still, having a pity party wouldn’t help her situation.
“You need to pass this class.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
He bit back a smile at her sarcastic retort. So there was still some fight left in her yet. “Your plan was good. Go for her hamstrings. Hit them hard and knock Sandy to her knees then get her in a chokehold. That will leverage your height difference and make for a fair fight.”
Mercy cringed. “What if I hurt her though?”
In response, Vann glanced at her instep. “My guess is you’ll need to ice that tonight. It’ll leave a bruise.”
“Okay, fine.” Mercy backed away, limping slightly.
“The best.” Vann winked and didn’t hide his smile this time.
Twenty minutes later, the women faced off for their practical exam. Sandy performed what Vann had come to think of as her signature move, though with a tad less bravado than before, earning her a pass.
Now it was Mercy’s turn. Vann just prayed she took his earlier advice to heart.
“And, go!” he said, watching as the two women circled each other in front of the class. Several students shouted cheers and words of encouragement for them both. Mercy made her way behind Sandy then gave a quick glance at Vann before racing ahead and thumping Sandy on the back of the knees hard. Gasps and cheers went up from the audience and even Vann had to admit he was impressed. Because of her smaller size, she was quick and fast. More things he could teach her to use to make her stronger.
Sandy stumbled forward then fell to her knees and Mercy wrapped her arm around her neck, pointing the pink toy gun in her hand at the base of Sandy’s skull. “Money. Now!”
“Stop!” Vann walked out and helped Sandy up from the mat. This was their last exam of the day. “Good job, ladies. Two passes.”
Applause filled the room and Hector whistled. Mercy smiled, but didn’t seem quite as happy as he’d expected. He gave a few last-minute reminders about the class tomorrow, and then dismissed them all, recommending Scoops Ice Cream Shop for dinner if they were looking. Mark’s sister owned the restaurant and he’d promised to put a shameless plug in where he could to help build business. The students left in a rush of congratulatory hugs and camaraderie.
As Vann went around cleaning up, he noticed Mercy still hanging out back by the refreshment table. He stacked the dummies back in the supply closet in the corner then wandered over to her. She looked even less enthusiastic now than when he’d passed her for the class. “Everything okay?”
“Thanks for your help today,” she said, not looking at him.
“You passed. Congratulations.” Vann hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans, feeling oddly unsure. Being an introvert by nature, small talk wasn’t exactly his strong suit. “On to tomorrow.”
“Did I though?”
“What?”
“Pass. I mean, without your pointers I probably wouldn’t have. And you won’t be there with me in Abu Dhabi or wherever if I do get attacked, right? Which leaves me right back to where I started.”
“No. It’s my job to give you pointers. It was your job to remember them and implement them appropriately, which you did.”
Damn. He’d thought by throwing her a minor battle, it would help him win the larger war with her low confidence levels. Apparently, he’d been wrong. She fidgeted before him, that big class binder hugged to her chest like a shield.
“Well, anyway. Thanks again for your help today.” She headed for the exit. “I’ll try not to disappoint you tomorrow.”
Vann watched her leave, wondering if he’d ever seen a sadder picture in his life. Before he could stop himself, he was following her out the door. The sun was still shining, though it hung lower in the sky this late in the afternoon. The other students were long gone and it was just Mercy and her rental compact car all alone in the gravel lot. “You want to grab some dinner?”
The question must’ve shocked her as much as it did him, given the speed with which her gaze flew to his. Had he really asked that? Shit. That was not what he’d planned to say. Not at all. Now that he had though, it would be rude to back out, not to mention detrimental to Mercy’s already wavering confidence.
“Um, sure.” Mercy kicked a pebble with the toe of her sneaker. “I don’t really know anyone around here except you and the other students, so yeah.”
Vann nodded, backing slowly toward the office. “Great. I’ll drive. Just let me lock up and grab my keys and I’ll be right back.”
5
Mercy still couldn’t quite believe she’d agreed to have dinner with Vann even as they pulled up into the parking lot of a quaint seaside ice cream parlor about a half hour later. Before she’d even gotten her seatbelt undone, he was out of the car and walking around to her side to open her door for her.
Gentleman? Check.
Her heart pinched a tiny bit. He seemed to tick a lot of boxes in what she was looking for in a guy—strong, sexy, with the manners of a true southern man. Her mama would’ve been so proud. Too bad Vann was strictly off limits. First, he lived almost two thousand miles from her home. Second, he’d given her no indication he thought of her as anything more than an annoying student he’d agreed to help. Third….
“Need help?” he asked, extending a hand to help her down from the enormous Humvee they’d ridden in. It looked like something out of an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie—huge and hulking and covered in a camo paint job, each door emblazoned with the Brothers In Arms logo, same as the one on the front of her T-shirt.
“I’m good, thanks.” Mercy slipped down to the ground from her seat then adjusted her outfit. Damn. She should’ve asked for some time to run back to her hotel to change. As it was, she was still wearing her workout clothes from class earlier. “I hope I look okay to go in there.”
“You look fine,” Vann said, clicking the key fob to lock the vehicle.
Not exactly a huge confidence-booster. Especially when he looked like he walked off the cover of Hot-Dudes-R-Us. Mercy did her best to smooth her riotous red curls that never seemed to obey, then trailed along behind Vann to the entrance. The black polo shirt he was wearing conformed to his muscled back and shoulders, hugging every contour and sinew, while those black pants he was wearing should be illegal in fifty states. The way the material hugged his firm ass and thighs and….
“After you,” he said, holding the door for her like a perfect gentleman.
His smile was cool, polite, professional, and only made Mercy feel even naughtier.
Here she was drooling all over the guy and he was only trying to grab a meal.
They walked inside the diner and the sounds of conversation from the patrons mingled with the bustling noise from the kitchen made Mercy feel right at home. She’d all but grown up in Queen Antoinette’s, tagging along behind her mother and father as they ran their busy restaurant. This place was a far cry from her parents’ ritzy establishment back in the Big Easy, but still homey and fun all the same.
White walls were covered with colorful posters and local memorabilia. An array of surfing gear dangle
d from wires attached to the ceiling and Beach Boys music played on the stereo system overhead. Through a large opening in the back of the place, she saw a deck outside and an awesome view of the Pacific Ocean beyond.
Looked like the shop did a good business too. All the tables seemed filled.
“C’mon.” Vann placed his hand on Mercy’s lower back to guide her through the diner and she felt that touch all the way to her toes. Not good. Not good at all. “There’s usually some tables outside.”
As they weaved through the tables, Mercy glanced over and saw a booth full of her classmates. Seems they’d taken Vann’s advice and tried out Scoops like he’d suggested. Hector caught her eye and waved. Sandy, seated beside him, caught her eye, looking from where Vann’s hand rested against Mercy’s lower back before meeting Mercy’s eyes again, a hint of jealousy lurking behind her condescending smirk.
Great. The last thing she needed was to make enemies in her class. Maybe she should suggest they join the rest of the student’s instead, to avoid any hint of impropriety. Maybe….
“Over here,” Vann said as they reached the threshold of the deck. His hand slipped from her lower back to her wrist, tugging her forward toward a small table for two near the railing. “Hope this is okay.”
Warm breezes drifted by, carrying the scent of salt and sea, and Mercy inhaled deeply before sinking into her chair. She couldn’t help sneaking one last glance inside to see if her class was still watching them, but thankfully they were blocked from view out here. “It’s lovely, thanks.”
A waiter came by and took their drink orders—a chocolate shake for Vann, water with lemon for Mercy. She already looked a wreck. She didn’t need the guy to think she was a pig too by ordering a bunch of food, even though she was starving.
From over the top of the menu, Vann watched her, his dark gaze enigmatic. “The food here is excellent. They’re known for their burgers.”