Three Words

Chapter 7 - Tris

Four walks past me and steps across the threshold, stopping just enough so he's inside. He looks quickly around, before turning to me as I shut the door. "You have a lovely home." 

Thank God it was hot outside, otherwise he would know exactly how deeply I'm blushing at the moment. Damn it, why do I have to blush so easily. "Thank you." I look down taking my sunglasses off, placing them on the small table along with my keys. As I look back up at him, I'm finally able to see how good looking he really is. He's wearing khaki shorts and a black t-shit, it's tight, but not overly so. You can definitely tell he works out. His bottom lip is slightly fuller, a faintly hooked nose, and short dark brown hair. It's his eyes that seem to have me captivated though. They are a deep blue, but not like ones I've seen before. Though they are dark, they have swirls of lighter blue, almost like a stormy ocean.

He clears his throat, and I'm brought back to my senses. Shit! How long have I been staring? I look down again, and see that I've started dripping blood on the floor. I've got to fix that, and probably take care of the sweat and gasoline smell. This meeting could not have gone worse.

"Four, please make yourself at home. There's some tea in the refrigerator and glasses above the microwave. Do you mind terribly if I go take a quick shower and fix my finger?"

"No, at all." He pauses, a crooked smile starting to form. "You know, I would have called, but I didn't have your number." His statement sends butterflies into my stomach.

Unfortunately, this causes me to become nervous, and my smart ass mouth decides to show itself. "Well, I figured if you were an ax murderer, I would want my death to be a surprise. If I gave you my number, you would ruin it." I resist the urge to groan. 'Oh God, why did I say that?'

He chuckles, "Well, I can understand your reluctance then. But for the record, I don't own an ax."

Well, he hasn't run away screaming yet, so I haven't totally turned him off. "Well that's good." Trying my best to smile, knowing well the other possibilities for murder. I need to get clean before I say something far more stupid then I already have. "Um...I'm going to go take a shower now. I'll try not to take too long."

I show him where the remote is, then go down the hall to my bedroom and lock the door. I know it won't stop him for long, but at least I'll have some kind of warning that he's trying to get in. I begin stripping down, throwing the filthy clothes in the hamper. I go to the dresser and grab my undergarments, a sleeveless blouse, and I'm about to grab a pair of shorts when I remember Thursday night. I look down at my thigh and see the foot shaped black and blue bruise. "Damn you Eric." I hiss through my teeth.

Eric has been my instructor for almost six months now. I can't stand him. I know he enjoys the violence of fighting. The more blood he sees, the happier he gets. Every instructor before him, while strict, was willing to work with you, and wanted to make sure you understood the concepts so you could protect yourself. With Eric, it's completely different. I'm the lone female in my class, and while I have obviously excelled, he still doesn't think I'm ready for a black belt. Instead he makes it a very bloody, painful competition between me and everyone else, but what he didn't see is that it gave me more opportunities to fight back and hone my skills.

Eric is only now figuring out that he gave me more practice then he intended so now he has to spar with me to even get the violence he is seeking. In my previous classes, you saved the actual hitting for the punching bags, but Eric seemed to drive all of his power and frustration into that kick when he had me in the ring. It was like he was trying to show me I was weak because I'm a woman so I'll quit. He will not have the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurt, well, still hurts. I'm just satisfied that I was able to get a shot at his throat to get him to stop. Otherwise it could have been so much worse. I've considered finding another place to go, but Eric is really the only problem, and the place is within my budget, so I'll stick it out. If it gets too bad, I can always go to Max, the owner.