The Bachelor's Auction

Chapter Twelve

Lucas started pulling her out of bed.

"Stop it! What are you doing? I'm tired and I'm sore," she grumbled.

"Get up. Get up!" he roared.

She opened her eyes. "Why?" she shouted back at him.

"Because we are going to start your training right now, this minute."

She looked at him blankly. "What training? I'm not starting anything this morning." She emphasized her position by trying to yank her arm away from him so she could crawl back into bed. He'd already dragged her halfway across the room.

"Your self-defense training. Listen, if you are captured and must fend for yourself for a day, I guarantee you will be sore, tired, sleepy and more. You have a stalker after you, in case you've forgotten that. Your body has to perform no matter the circumstances, wherever you are. If I'm killed I don't expect you to go down with me. You heard Sandy; she couldn't protect herself or her child. She's not feeling very good about it. That's not going to be you. Do I make myself clear?" Lucas picked her up to carry her out of the room.

She was now wide awake, shivering, and her brain was speeding in a thousand directions. What had happened to bring this on? Was he losing it? Not really. What he said made sick sense. She didn't want to think about being abducted. Obviously, he wasn't joking and she really didn't know what to do.

"Put me down," she finally said. "I'll walk."

Lucas set her down but didn't let go of her wrist. His grip was like an iron shackle. No question, he was capable of tightening it more. His small concession was that he was walking at a pace she could deal with. However, he gave her no choice but to follow him downstairs to the lower level gym.

"You've seen the news stories of people waking up to an intruder by the bed with a knife or gun," he continued, relentlessly. "You're safe here but we can't stay here forever. Before I have any discussions with you or anyone else about different ways to handle this situation, I have to know what you can and can't do. I have to assess how much training you need and how long it will take. How do you react when you're scared or tired or sore – do you freeze up? I don't want your word picture. I want a real time physical action appraisal of your capabilities."

"So you're going to attack me with no warning? I can't believe this!" She almost stumbled on the steps.

He hauled her body against him, balancing her so she didn't fall.

"Can't we start this crap tomorrow?" she asked

Now on the bottom step he turned to her. He held her wrist up in front of her face. "Do you think attackers give warnings? I don't think so. I'm not going to totally attack you at random. But I am going to wake you up with little sleep to perform. So you can do it when it matters. You can only do that with repetition. You have muscles; you aren't a marshmallow, so there is a floor of fitness to work with. I'm thinking that we may have a week or two to get ready; maximum a month. He didn't get Danny Parker but the Wellstons are or would probably be next on the list. He's figured out two other families that you sit for by their social media postings. I don't want to contact them unless I have to. It would be better to act before they are dragged into this."

She crumpled to the floor, staggered by his timeline. Two weeks? She couldn't become a fighting machine in two weeks! No freakin' way! He was right, though, that she didn't want to involve anyone new in her troubles. How unfair. She fought back tears. She looked for some gentleness in his face. He cared for her; he needed her. But all she could see was his ruthless determination to test her.  as she watched him closely, a tear slid down her cheek. Then, did she imagine it, a flash of fear that had to be for her. He could take care of himself. So even though he may be sympathetic to her, he was going to put her through her paces now. No reprieve, no apology for springing this on her would be forthcoming so she sighed and stood up.