Derek turned, sizing him up with a dismissive glance. "Sorry, buddy. Class is full. Open mat is on Saturdays."
"She tapped," Cole said. He didn't raise his voice. He kept his hands relaxed at his sides. He walked until he was standing five feet from Derek.
"She tapped, and you held it for four seconds. You put her to sleep on purpose." The surrounding grapplers stopped moving. The squeak of limbs on canvas ceased. The gym went dead silent.
Derek's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before returning harder and uglier. His ego was on the line now. "It's a contact sport, man. People get caught. Maybe she shouldn't be on the mats if she can't handle the pressure."
"Maybe," Cole said softly. He didn't break eye contact. His eyes were entirely dead. There was no anger in them, just calculation.
"Let's see how you handle it." Derek let out a short, barking laugh. He looked at the other students, playing to his audience.
"You want a round? You even know how to grapple, tough guy?" Cole didn't answer. He just stepped forward, raising his hands to his chest.
"All right," Derek said, dropping into a wide, aggressive stance. "Timer's running. Let's go." Derek shot forward, reaching aggressively for a collar tie, intending to snap Cole's head down and bully him to the mat. Cole didn't backpedal. He didn't try to strip the grip.
As Derek's heavy hand reached his neck, Cole stepped through the attack instead of retreating. It happened faster than anyone in the room could process. He secured Derek's upper