“Get Off My Mat!” Black Belt Shoved a Hotel Cleaner — Then She Recognized His Fighting Stance
Chapter 3
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Saffron, wiping down the table, froze; her peripheral vision caught the movement. Darby's hand positioning was completely wrong: he wasn't isolating the hip, he was just cranking the knee laterally with brute force. It was a sloppy, dangerous application of pressure. A master would control the upper leg to prevent injury while securing the submission; Darby was just ripping at the joint to look impressive."Ow! Wait. Tap. Tap, Professor! Tap!" Toby yelped, slapping the mat frantically.Darby didn't let go immediately. He held the lock for two agonizing seconds longer, grinning at the crowd. "See that? Instant panic. Pain is just weakness leaving the body, Toby. If you panic like a coward out there on the streets, you die." He finally released the kid, who rolled away clutching his knee with tears welling in his eyes. "Stand up, Toby. Stop whining," Darby ordered. "Let's run it again."Saffron's jaw clenched. The microfiber cloth in her hand was suddenly gripped so tight her knuckles popped. The cardinal rule of the mat—the sacred trust between training partners—was absolute safety: you never, ever crank a joint lock on a training partner who is actively tapping.She turned her back, aggressively wiping down the water dispenser, trying to block out the sound of Darby hauling the limping boy back to the center of the mat."Right here," Darby commanded, positioning himself. "I want you to try and roll out of it this time. I'm going to crank it, and if you don't move fast enough, that knee is going to pop."He's going to tear the kid's ACL, Saffron thought, her pulse suddenly roaring in her ears. The ghost of Abigail Preston clawed at the inside of her ribs, demanding to be let out.Do not get involved. You are a cleaner. If you make a scene, security gets called. They run your ID. Adams's men find you. Do not."Professor, please, my knee feels loose," Toby stammered."I said get down," Darby roared.In her agitated state, Saffron's elbow bumped the heavy stainless-steel drip tray of the water dispenser; it slid off the edge of the table and crashed onto the hardwood floor just inches from the mat, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the silent, tense room. Ice cubes scattered everywhere, sliding onto the black mat.The entire room turned to look at her.Darby dropped Toby's leg, his face flushing crimson with sudden, explosive rage; his grand moment of intimidation had been ruined by the help. "What the hell are you doing?!" Darby bellowed, storming across the mat.Saffron immediately dropped to her knees, keeping her head bowed, frantically scooping up the ice cubes with her gloved hands. "I apologize, sir. I'll have it cleaned in a second. I am so sorry.""You're interrupting my seminar!" Darby stood over her, his massive shadow swallowing her small frame. "Do you know how much these people paid to be here? Do you know who I am?!""Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir," Saffron muttered, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on his bare feet.Flat arches. Heavy heel distribution. Bad balance."Look at me when I'm talking to you, trash!" Darby yelled.When Saffron didn't look up, when she merely reached for another stray ice cube, Darby snapped. Deciding he needed to reassert his dominance in front of his paying audience, he reached down, planted his massive heavy hand on her shoulder, and shoved her backward with all his might. He expected her to tumble backward in a pathetic heap, crashing into the water station; he expected her to cry.