Chapter 19

I spent about five minutes convincing the couple that we could trust Chase. They were being a little too skeptical, though it was understandable. No one in their right mind would stay friends with a former murderer. Yet again, the couple stayed by my side even after watching me go through that phase. That was a story for another day, anyway.

After staying a while and chatting, they left the room. They said something about having lunch with Kenneth’s mother, who was back in town.

I noticed that Chase was staring rather intently at my duffel bag, his calm demeanor vanishing. I knitted my eyebrows together, wondering about the sudden change in mood. He fidgeted with his fingers as he kept staring at the bag, and I started to grow impatient. “What is it now, nerd? You want to see my underwear or something?” I walked over to the duffel bag to grab a change of clothes, remembering that I still had Chase’s sweater on. 

“N-No! It’s just that…um…” Chase trailed off. 

I took one last swift of the lingering cologne on his sweater before taking it off and throwing it over to him. “Just say it already, Chase.” I sighed and watched as he caught the sweater easily.

“I don’t think—”

“Say it!” I exclaimed exasperatedly.

“Why the hell do you have a gun if you don’t kill anymore?” he exclaimed back. 

My eyes widened as I shot forward and slapped a hand against his mouth. He winced a little and looked at me, alarmed. I put my index finger against my lips in a shushing motion. 

“Care to say it louder so that everyone in this motel hears?” I hissed and moved my hands back down to my sides. “It’s not mine, idiot! I took it away from Bryce when he threatened me with it. Plus, after listening to such confidential information, you’re scared of a simple gun? How lame.”

“Sorry…” he muttered. 

I waved a hand in the air dismissively and looked at his sweater. “Thanks for lending that to me,” I said, changing topics. “You should go home and change before our training today. Meet me at the gym by four, unless you need me to pick you up?”

"How will I get to my house?" he asked. "Also, to answer your question, I will only let you pick me up if you please drive like a normal person. Motorcycles look harmless enough until you're the one on them."

"To answer your ­question, I'll give you some money so that you can take the bus," I said, completely ignoring his comment. He opened his mouth to protest but I shoved some money in his hands, shutting him up.

"I could always call and—"

"You won't call anyone," I warned. "Now take the money without any other complaints and go home. I'll be picking you up by four o'clock, not a single minute later than that. Be ready by then." 

He glanced at the time on his phone and looked at me, alarmed. “I have less than an hour! I doubt that I’ll be able to get to my house in time.” He groaned and I smirked.

“Then you should be on your way. Time flies, you know?” I mused. I headed to the bathroom with the clothes in hand and closed the door behind me. A smile adorned my face when I heard faint shuffling and hurried footsteps, followed by the sound of a slamming door. I undressed and turned the knob of the shower, letting the cold water warm up before stepping under it.

Thirty-five minutes later, I was already pulling up in Chase’s driveway. I glanced at my watch and noticed there were still three minutes left until 4:00 PM. I revved my engine to announce my arrival and—as if on cue—a very flustered Chase walked out of his house. I laughed at him and motioned for him to sit behind me, making him furrow his brows questioningly.

"Where's the helmet?" he asked, and I gave him a sheepish smile.

"I don't know, perhaps you dropped it somewhere in the gym and never handed it to me properly," I answered. I almost burst out laughing at how pale he turned in less than a second. "Relax, nerd. I will drive safely for your sake. This time, there's no angry Gregory chasing us down, so hop on."

He eyed me warily and started to get on hesitantly. "Isn't it, like, illegal to be driving a bike without the proper protection? Can't the police take your license away?"

"The police can't take away something I don't have." I laughed, and I could feel him tense behind me.

"What?" he screeched.

"Don't be so scared for once and live a little. It's not like the police care anyways," I announced. "Hang on!" With that, I went off into the road and he quickly snaked his arms around my waist. I drove through the streets at a considerate speed, and I could feel Chase slowly relax behind me. His face was pressed against my back, and I did my best to pay as little attention as I could to that detail. 

Slowing down to a stop once we reached a red light, I tried to look at him over either of my shoulders, but failed to no avail. "Heads up, nerd," I said, and he reluctantly did so.

"What is it?" he asked as he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Instead of cowering away behind my back, lift your head up and enjoy the ride," I said and waited patiently for the light to turn green. "If I still feel you breathing against my back, I swear I'll go ten over the speed limit." 

That's all it took for him to sit up straighter. 

Once the light turned green, I revved the engine before advancing. Chase's hold tightened, but he didn't hide his head on my back as I drove. 

About four minutes later, I pulled over at the gym's parking lot and killed the engine.

"That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Chase admitted as he ran a hand over his tousled hair. I chuckled at this and nodded before we made our way inside.

"Lily! So good to see you again," Wesley greeted, giving me a hug. "I see that the boy right here didn't run away after that last Gregory scare."

"Why do people keep assuming that I would run away?" Chase grumbled under his breath, and I chuckled.

"Whatever the case is, don't scare this one away. He's a keeper," Wesley joked, and I smirked.

“He might be a nerd, but he’s not as much as a scaredy cat as I thought him to be.” I smiled. At this, Chase groaned, muttering about how he was still standing there. 

I asked for the keys, and Wesley handed them to me. Motioning for Chase to follow me, I started walking to the training room. I opened the door and turned the lights on, stretching my arms over my head while Chase closed the door behind him. I walked straight to the speaker and turned it on, plugging the aux cord to my phone. I scrolled through my music and settled on with some Imagine Dragons, leaving the phone beside the speaker. 

Chase was already waiting for me in the yoga mats, and I jogged over to him. We stretched in silence, the only noise coming from the speaker. Five minutes had already gone by the moment I turned to him. “Today we will start with the basics.”

“Awesome! What should I do?” he said a little excitedly.

“Easy there, tiger.” I laughed. “I know that this is a little exciting, but we’ve got to take things easily. I will be teaching you a throat punch.”

“Sounds painful.” He grimaced. “How does it work?”

"Well, it’s a type of self-defense move—obviously. This punch is for when your attacker is close enough to you. A throat punch, depending how lethal, can crush the larynx of the other person. If this happens, the airway will close up and CPR is not possible," I informed.

"What?" he screeched. "I thought self-defense wasn't supposed to kill people?"

"Would you let me finish talking?" I rolled my eyes. "There are different types of throat punches; I will be showing you the less lethal one." 

He nodded reluctantly, and I walked toward a bob punching bag. I motioned for him to follow me, and he let out a breath before standing next to me.

"All this certain type of punch does is elicit the vomiting reflex. In self-defense, once you deliver the punch, you have the advantage of running away while the other person is on the ground, gagging," I explained. "Perhaps the person might start vomiting, who knows?"

After saying that, I showed him the correct way to deliver the punch. He nodded and tried to copy me, stumbling a bit over his own feet making me chuckle. I stood in front of him and readjusted his stance, not missing the faint blush coloring his cheeks. I smirked a bit and stepped aside, telling him to try again. 

He groaned once he failed the fourth time and pouted. "This is no use," he grumbled.

"If you're giving up already, I will punch you," I deadpanned.

"I can't even learn something so simple," he whined.

"Chase, even stupid punches like this require practice. When it comes to either self-defense or offense, you need time to perfect your moves and strategies," I said and ruffled his hair. "Come on, let's try it one more time and then drink some water."

He sighed, positioning himself in the correct stance and struck once again, hitting the bob punching bag right on the spot. 

I chuckled and clapped, earning a huge grin in response. I walked toward the small fridge in the corner and took out two water bottles, chuckling as I heard Chase muttering excitedly. "That wasn't bad. A little more practice and you might ace it." I said and turned around. 

Suddenly, I saw a fist coming straight to my face. I staggered back a bit, throwing the bottles to the ground. Before the fist could make contact with my face, I used my quick reflexes to instantly take hold of the arm and kick the person's leg. I watched as the said person fell face-first to the ground. I twisted his arm painfully behind his back as I used my leg to hold him down.

"Damn it! I thought I had you!" Chase exclaimed as he winced. 

I let out a sigh of relief and let go of him, watching as he cradled his arm against his chest. "You almost had me," I admitted with a smirk, and bent down to grab the bottles. "Here, rest for five minutes and drink some water."

He sat down and grabbed a water bottle from my hands. His face was flushed, and I chuckled, realizing that it was quite hot in here. 

I meant that in the literal way, just in case. 

I took a swig from the water bottle and fanned my face with my hand. Proceeding to put the water bottle away, I then took my shirt off, glad that I was wearing a sports bra. After this, a gasp was heard from behind me and I smirked then turned around to face a wide-eyed Chase.

 "A-Amelia," he started, and I opened my mouth to tell him that me in a sports bra was nothing, but he beat me to it. "Y-Your side. What happened?" 

At the mention of it, I froze in place. I cursed the only word that came to me under my breath.

Shit...
__________________

[Edited: August 29th, 2020 by michh_44]

Throat punches must hurt. I hope I never receive one in what is left of my life. Poor Amelia couldn't keep her hidden bruises a secret anymore. Let's see what will happen in the next chapter! If you enjoyed, please leave a vote and a comment and I wish you all a beautiful day ❤