"I thought-" I panted from my position laying on my back on the floor. "-you said-" I fought to fill my lungs with air. "-self defense."
Alessio was standing casually above me readjusting the straps on his gloves. "I did."
"No." I groaned and rolled onto my stomach. Slowly I crawled back up to my knees. "You're trying to kill me."
"Now you're just being over dramatic." He looked across the room. "Look, Stacey and Pietro are perfectly fine."
"Because Pietro hasn't grabbed Stacey and flipped her onto her back three times in the last twenty minutes!"
"Because Stacey has followed instructions when Pietro has tried." Alessio said and offered me his hand. I glared at it. "Also, my dear cousin is a pussy and is too scared of hurting her to actually train her properly." He gave me a condescending smile. "But of course he doesn't want to let the instructor step in either."
I took his hand and he pulled me up. "I wish you'd let the instructor teach me." I muttered.
"I'm sure you would. But see there's two problems with that." He moved behind me and put his arms around me. "The instructor would probably not be as rough with you as I am." He said and kissed my cheek lightly and then took a step backwards. "And secondly, if I saw him put his hands on you at all I would likely have to take time out of my precious free time to come back and break every one of his fingers and I'm sure you could probably imagine he'd be far less affective a teacher with such an injury."
I waited patiently for Alessio to initiate an "attack." The waiting game was part of the fun he said. If I knew when I was going to be attacked I would have avoided getting into an attack to begin with. Unless I was a moron of course, which, according to Alessio, I probably was.
He finally put both of his hands on my shoulders, I whirled around to do what the instructor had demonstrated. The first time we had tried this I couldn't honestly see forcing the base of my palm into Alessio's nose, but after he'd been working me up and down this place for almost an hour I was getting so pissed off I did want to break his nose.
No such luck though. He caught me by the wrist easily, turned around so his back was to me, pulled me over his back and dropped me back onto mine. Flipping me for the fourth time in the past half hour.
He put his hands on his hips and watched me glare at him furiously from my flat position on the floor. He waved me forward. "Again."
"I've changed my mind." I grumbled with my face still pressed into the cushion of the couch. "Once a week, tops."
Alessio rubbed my back lightly but made no comment.
I'd been here in this position for almost an hour, and I was pretty sure I couldn't move. We'd come home, Alessio had sat down on the couch and I had flopped dramatically down on top of him and the couch. My face pressed into the cushion, my knees touched one of his legs and I had my rear end up in the air leaving a few inches of space between his lap and me.
Alessio hadn't even followed the instructor's directions. He insisted that "real life criminals aren't going to follow these patterns." He had a point but I wasn't going to admit that to him.
Our instructor was trying to teach us the most basic of self-defense techniques. The men who would attack me wouldn't be your common day criminal, they wouldn't be after my purse or a quick fuck. They'd be out to kill. Basic skills were just the start, and naturally they weren't going to follow a certain routine in their attack. If someone grabbed my hair they wouldn't grab my hair and try to pull me into an alley, they'd pull my hair to hold my head still so they could blow my brains out or perhaps pull it back so they would have an easier time slitting my throat.
YOU ARE READING
To ensure the the Midnight Mafia trilogy remains suitable for all audiences the chapters in which I find are a little too racy and not suitable for those under 18 will be moved here for your reading pleasure.