It took about ten minutes to adjust to the smaller court, racquet, and three walls. I had two distinct bruises on my left arm from taking solid hits that stung. Brack had several more than I did. He finally figured out I was aiming at his balls and protected them. He was smarter than his muscle-bound jock looks indicated.

I was down by four, dripping sweat, and trying to keep my frustration under control. He was good and had obviously played for a while. I was better than this, though. No one had a backhand like I did. It didn't matter that this wasn't my game. I owned every court I walked onto.

I made a perfect serve and Brack missed. Another serve and the battle was on. I scored again. Two down. Brack took my next point away and it was his serve. I jumped to the right and backhanded the ball. He missed. My serve.

I shut him down after that and won the game.

We both breathed heavily with him bent double. I wasn't a wimp. He had bulky muscle and probably didn't run as much as he should. "Bending double cuts off your air," I remarked cockily.

"Landing face first on the cement will have the same effect. I'm closer to the ground this way," he stammered between gasps for breath.

A grin split my face. "Come on, let's go again." I was ready and this time he'd be lucky to score a single point.

"You should be taking it easy. I'm sure your head injury isn't completely healed."

"Scared?" I asked with a larger smile.

"Terrified."

Now I laughed. It felt good. When's the last time I really laughed? Not since that psycho started his shit. Playing racquetball with Brack felt good. Winning felt great. "Come on, one more."

"Self-defense or I won't have the strength to teach you anything." He stood up and I admired his red face. I knew my cheeks were probably rosy. He was in good shape, but I was better prepared and a professional athlete. I could go on for hours.

I bounced the ball a few times like he had earlier. "Fine, but if I take you down, we play another match."

"This should be fun," he smirked while rubbing a budding bruise on his forearm.

There were mats tucked away in the front corner of the hangar. We worked together to set them up. His breathing recovered quickly, which wasn't in my favor. When all was set, we stood in the center on the mats.

He eyed me up and down. "With your training, I'm assuming you know how to fall properly."

"Check," I snapped throatily as my eyes raked each inch of sweaty male body. His shirt was wet and plastered to his amazing chest. Yummy.

"Do you know where you can cause the most damage to a body?"

Huh? Okay I needed to concentrate. My eyes immediately dropped to his crotch.

"Yeah, that's what most women think, but it's also the place men protect diligently. Hey," he chucked beneath my chin. "My eyes are up here."

Yes, but his cock was down there. I slowly lifted my gaze and took in his sweat-soaked shirt again. When I met his blue and green eyes, I smiled. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Nose, throat, knees, ankles. Those are what you're aiming for. A woman can do a lot of damage if she knows where to strike." Even after I kicked his ass at racquetball, he sounded like females were lesser obstacles when it came to kicking ass. He continued without a clue that he was irritating me. "The throat and nose are kill zones. With enough force, he's not getting up."

Damn, I needed to get my mind off his body because he was right. This is what I needed to learn. I wanted so badly to take Brack to the floor.

"I know you're stronger than most females I've been around, but you don't have a chance one-on-one with a man." I started to argue, but he held up his hand. "You can listen and learn or you can die. Your choice."

Fuck, now he had my attention. "I'm listening."

"Three seconds. That's the time you have to surprise him and gain the upper hand. This is a one-shot deal. Women fight to get away. You need to kill."

Huh? "Three seconds? What if he has a gun?"

"Doesn't matter. If you plan on dying, you will. If you plan to survive, you can do that too. Today's about taking him down so he doesn't get up. We'll work on guns and knives another day. You ready?"

I gave him a determined smile. "As I'll ever be."

"Turn around."

A small ripple of fear entered my stomach. "Why?"

"He can walk up behind you in public and grab you easily. Let's fix that first."

"Okay," I said as I turned.

I counted silently. Nothing happened for ten seconds. I didn't feel Brack move, but suddenly he wrenched me from my feet, his arms wrapped tightly around mine. I flung my head back, but he jerked away and took me to the mat.

I didn't like it. Not at all. "So what did that prove?" I asked with none of my earlier impudence.

He stood up and placed his hand out. "That you're easy to kill."

His fingers closed around mine and with little strain to his bicep and forearm, I was on my feet again. "So what do I need to do about it?"

"You knew I was coming, but you never checked behind you. I know I told you to turn around, but ninety percent of staying out of harm's way is knowing everything happening around you. Listen to your instinctsif it says run don't wait around to find out why. You wanted to turn but were afraid to. That instinct alone will kill you. Use your eyes and ears. You have no idea what this guy looks like. Every man out there is suspect. Now turn around again."

I did as he asked but looked over my shoulder at him. He smiled and I forgot about his lecture as my little bitty heart melted. I jumped forward when he lunged. He went for my legs before I could move again and once more I was staring up at him from the mat.

Now, I just wanted to erase that smirk from his face. "He can't do that in public. He would need a vehicle close by to toss me into," I said with all my pent up exasperation.

I had no idea what it meant when Brack's smirk changed subtly. "True. Today's lesson is about avoiding the mat, so let's try it again."