“Scared, Buddy?” Cocky Black Belt Taunts a Single Mom — Unaware She’s a Combat Legend...
Chapter 7
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Class ended at 8:30. Jo walked home that night instead of taking the bus, keeping her hand on the coin under her shirt, rubbing her thumb over the raised edge of the anchor.She wasn't angry; that surprised her a little. Instead, she just felt tired in a way that had nothing to do with the hour.She thought about her husband. He'd given her that coin the week they got married, told her half-joking that as long as she carried it, some piece of him would always be looking out for her. She hadn't taken that coin off her neck once in the four years since he died. Tanner didn't know any of that; to him, it was just a piece of scrap metal some sad woman wore to feel important.Dana Fitch had been standing right beside Jo during that wrist grab demonstration, close enough to see something the rest of the class missed: a fraction of a second where Jo's whole body shifted—weight dropping into her back foot, free hand rising just slightly, like it already knew exactly where it needed to go—before Jo reeled it back in and stumbled on purpose.Dana mentioned it to Walt Higgins two days later at the Wagon Wheel."There's something about the way she moves," Dana said. "It's like she already knows the moves before he teaches them, but she keeps holding back."Walt set his spoon down slowly. He thought about the coin Jo wore beneath her collar. He thought about how many years he'd spent at VFW meetings listening to people describe the strange, quiet weight of coming home from service. He didn't say any of that to Dana, but for the first time, Walt found himself looking at Jo Merrick a little differently.The second week of class started worse than the first ended. Tanner had noticed the whispers, and he decided the fastest way to shut them down was to make sure everyone saw publicly that Jo Merrick was completely unremarkable.On Thursday night, he called for a live sparring demonstration: light contact to simulate a real mugging. He picked his partner without hesitation."Jo, come on up."She hesitated, just a beat too long for Tanner's taste."What, scared, buddy?" he said again.Jo stepped forward. Tanner explained the drill to the room: he would grab her from behind, and her job was to break free."Ready?" he asked."Ready," she said.He grabbed her from behind, one arm looping around her shoulders with far more force than the drill called for.For a half-second, Jo's body reacted before her mind caught up to it: weight dropped, her elbow snapped back—stopping less than an inch from Tanner's ribs, controlled with extreme precision—and her free hand found the pressure point on his forearm that would have made him let go instantly.And then, just as fast, she stopped herself. She pulled the strike, let her hand rest against his side instead of driving into it, and stepped back out of his grip in a motion that looked like a slightly clumsy version of the technique.