"Is it really necessary to throw them out the window?" I yell in exasperation as I once again stop a man from falling eight floors.
I only get a grunt in reply and- is that a smile?
"Did you just-" I was cut short by another man being thrown by the...
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"So you met a boy?" Christopher's white fluffy mustache wiggles as he contemplates what he had heard. He still hadn't turned to look at me, too busy cutting up some carrots for supper. "When?"
I shrug as I swing my legs back and forth as I sit on the run down table. "A day ago..."
"During a fight?"
I clear my throat and fidget with the fabric on the table, "No..."
"I'll give you one more chance." The knife cut through the carrot harshly making me flinch slightly. However, when he continued, his voice was level. "During a fight?"
I sigh knowing he already found me out. "Yes, I'm sorry but it was against some fella who was trying to harass a lady. It's not a big deal, Chris."
"Not a big deal?" He puts the carrots in the pot and turns to look at me with a serious expression. "You put yourself in danger."
I look down in guilt but quickly look back up. "But I didn't! I'm still alive and so is the young lady!"
He steps towards me and lifts my chin up to examine my face. "And what bout all these bruises?"
I push his hand away gently and notice his blue eyes gazing at me with worry and slight anger. "They're just bruises."
He crosses his arms and mutters gruffly, "And what happens when they're not just bruises but a stab wound? A gunshot?"
This was getting too serious for me. I didn't want to think about that. "Aww come on old man. Don't get too mushy on me. You know I'll be fine. I know how to take care of myself thanks to you."
He looks at me unamused as he rubs at his bald head. It's a habit he has when something is bothering him. "Hmm. Still, I'd be more comfortable if you'd continue your lessons instead of running around with boys, getting into street fights."
"It was one boy and I'm not messing around with him. I saved him from getting beat to a pulp. I just figured you'd be proud."
He chuckles as he motions me to get the spoons. "You know I'm always gon be proud of you, girly. But that won't get you out of lessons. We're starting up again tomorrow bright an early. I want you up by six ya hear?"
I groan. "Fine."
Chris had been teaching me the basics of self defense. To say the lessons were grueling would be an understatement.
He never talked much about his past but from what I gathered he was in some type of military program and was an expert in fighting and weapons.
He had promised to teach me how to fight with weapons once I had gotten a good knack for fighting hand to hand. For a big man, he sure was fast on his feet.
As we sit down to eat I look at Chris who was busy reading a small book while eating. He had reading glasses which to me looked ridiculous on him. He was such a big burly man and the glasses were just a complete contradiction.
