“Scared, Buddy?” Cocky Black Belt Taunts a Single Mom — Unaware She’s a Combat Legend...
Chapter 8
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Dana was paying close attention; so was Margaret Wren. Tanner rubbed his forearm, more startled than hurt, covering it quickly with a laugh. "Not bad. Little rough on the follow-through, but not bad."For a moment, something flickered across Tanner's face that looked almost like recognition, but he buried that feeling fast.Afterward, in the parking lot, Dana caught up with Margaret. "You saw that, too, right? That wasn't beginner's luck.""I've watched children learn things for 34 years," Margaret said. "I know the difference between someone learning a skill and someone remembering one."Two days later, on a Saturday afternoon, Jo stopped by the town police station to file a complaint. It wasn't about the coin or the drills; it was about what happened after Thursday's class. Tanner had followed her out to the parking lot and made a low comment about how women like her needed to be reminded who was actually in charge in that gym. It lived in that gray space designed to never quite cross the legal line, but it sat wrong with her.The officer at the front desk was Cole Priestley, Tanner's first cousin.As soon as Jo mentioned Tanner's name, Cole's posture changed. "Look, I know Tanner can come across a certain way, but he's not the type to actually hurt anybody.""I'm not saying he hurt me," Jo said. "I'm saying he made me uncomfortable, and I want it documented.""Sure, sure," Cole said, his tone shifting into going through the motions. "I'll note it down. But between us, if this turns into a he-said-she-said thing, it's not going to go anywhere. No witnesses, no contact—just words."Jo studied him, thanked him for his time, and left.She didn't know that Cole texted Tanner the second she walked out the door:Heads up. The waitress from your class came in complaining. Nothing's going to come of it. Just be smart for a while.Tanner read the message with a smirk:She's not going to be a problem.There was one more person who noticed something during those first two weeks: Frank Doyle, 78 years old, the retired martial arts instructor who had trained Tanner for nearly a decade before health problems forced him to sell his dojo to Gary Priestley.Frank had noticed the sparring demonstration, but he'd noticed something else, too: Tanner's belt. Frank knew what a real three-stripe black belt looked like on a man who had earned it through sanctioned testing. Tanner's form carried gaps that never should have existed at that rank.One evening, flipping through the gym's testing binder, Frank found Tanner's third-stripe record: dated a Sunday in November, four years earlier. Frank remembered that Sunday clearly, because he had spent that entire weekend in a hospital waiting room three counties away beside his wife during a heart scare. He hadn't been anywhere near the gym; he certainly hadn't administered any testing board.Frank made a phone call that night to an old training partner, Samuel Devo, who sat on regional testing boards.