Читать книгу Operation Alpha - Justine Davis - Страница 17

Chapter 8

“He doesn’t look like much of a fighter.”

“Doesn’t look like a teacher, either.”

“Hey, he’s got a dog. Maybe he’s blind. That would be cool, like a superhero.”

“Maybe he’s got the dog because he’s gutless.”

Liam listened without looking, since he’d already noted and mentally cataloged the trio of boys when they’d come in. They didn’t join the other dozen or so who’d shown up but kept to themselves in a little knot near the door. There were always at least three, he thought. The ringleader and a couple of sycophants. And there was little doubt that the boy who had spoken first and last was the ringleader. He was the biggest of them and wore the most scornful expression.

He was also the one Cutter was watching like an errant sheep.

And Liam noticed many of the other kids who’d gathered around the mats on the floor were keeping a wary eye on the trio. Including Dylan, who was standing toward the back but appeared more intent than any of them.

“Great,” he heard a boy mutter, looking at the biggest of the three. “Just what we need—Alan screwing things up.”

Purposely Liam turned his back on the threesome. It went against his instincts, but the gym had several mirrors in one corner, near what he guessed was a bar for dance students to use, and he positioned himself so he could watch the three easily without looking directly at them. Otherwise he ignored them, and he saw the leader’s expression change; he obviously wasn’t used to being ignored.

“Hi, everyone. My name’s Liam Burnett. Thanks for turning up and saving me from reading War and Peace.”

He got a few chuckles, and all of the ones in front of him smiled. He noted Emily’s absence. The girl had said she wasn’t going to come because she was afraid she’d give him away somehow and Dylan would shy away.

“Y’all know why you’re here,” he began. He heard the snicker from behind him, no doubt at the drawl he’d purposely let through. “Well, most of you, anyway. Some don’t have even a clue.”

The titter that went through the group had a nervous edge to it. He kept his back turned but saw the trio, the big guy in the lead, start moving toward him. He watched the reflection, assessing. Alan was big, yes. Nearly his own height. And bulky. Probably outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. But it wasn’t muscle, Liam noted, seeing the softness around the middle and in the arms beneath the T-shirt from a local bar. Wondered if the kid counted on his sheer size to intimidate. Wondered if he expected people to think he was old enough to hang out in that dive bar his shirt advertised. Or clever enough to bluff his way in.

And wondered what Alan was doing here at Cove at all. From what Ria had told him about the school and its academic standards, he seemed an unlikely fit. But maybe his folks were rich and bought his way in; money did talk, after all.

And maybe he’s really a genius under all that bluster.

Liam nearly grinned at his own thought. Quinn had taught him much about making assumptions.

“I gotta figure,” he said to the group, “since this isn’t getting you out of class, that you want to be here. Question is, why?”

“Because it’s cool?” one of the boys in front suggested.

Liam grinned at him. “It is that.”

Another laugh from the group.

“You going to teach girls, too?”

Liam looked at the girl who stood up front, looking at him rather challengingly. In that moment he was glad he’d helped Quinn to train Hayley and Teague’s Laney. They’d taught him as much as he’d taught them.

“Absolutely,” he said. “With the right mind-set, girls can get more out of it than anyone.”

She looked surprised. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope. In fact, you have an advantage. If you’re attacked, it’s usually by someone who thinks you’re weak, and if you know how, you can use that assumption against them. You usually are smaller. You can use the size disparity even more. There’s an entire discipline, Brazilian jiujitsu, that specializes in just that.”

Her attitude changed visibly, from one of challenge to interest. In fact, she looked downright intrigued. He counted it as a small victory.

“I’m not an expert in any one of the disciplines,” he said. “What I am good at is picking what works for me. And that’s why I’m here, to help you pick.”

“If you’re not an expert, why should we listen to you?”

“What I’m also good at,” Liam said without acknowledging the bully’s presence with even a glance, “is assessing an opponent. The way they carry themselves, like a true fighter or just a big ol’ thug who doesn’t have a clue about fighting someone who knows how to fight back.”

A murmur went through the group. They got that he was talking specifically about the boy coming up behind him.

“And,” Liam continued, “I’m good at assessing the real level of the threat. If it’s someone who can hold their own, or someone clueless I could take down with a sneeze.”

This time they laughed. He supposed he shouldn’t egg the kid on like that, but he really didn’t like bullies. He’d been on the short end of that experience too often, when he was this age.

In the mirror he saw the boy’s hands curl into fists. A glance at Alan’s face showed he wasn’t quite sure he was being insulted, which was also Liam’s intent. Liam wondered if Alan was foolish enough to rush him, to attack someone there to teach defense against just that, and in front of the whole group. He almost hoped he was.

He doubted Foxworth would appreciate getting sued by some irate parent over the bruising of their not-so-little boy. Unless, of course, Alan started it. In front of multiple witnesses.

“Most bullies are more scared than anything,” he said, keeping Alan’s reflection in the line of his peripheral vision as he stepped onto the mat. “Except for maybe that clueless thing.”

Again, laughter. Liam could almost feel the big kid’s rage.

“Go ahead, give it a shot,” he said, without turning.

Alan stopped dead. Liam shoved his hands into his jeans’ front pockets. Stood casually, as if he were completely unaware. “You’ve got the drop on me, right? From behind. And you’re a big guy. No way you can lose.”

“It’s a trap,” Alan muttered.

So he was smarter than he looked, Liam thought. “Just a demonstration,” he said. “I need a tough guy.”

Alan smiled at that; Liam could see it in the mirror. But still Alan hesitated. Then somebody in the group muttered audibly, “Coward.” He felt more than saw Alan stiffen.

“Come on,” he urged. “No repercussions.”

He felt the moment when the boy decided, egged on by that derisive comment, heard the movement when he took that first step. And then he was charging, energized perhaps by the free rein given.

At the last second Liam dodged, spun and swept his right foot into Alan’s path, carefully avoiding the knees, where he could do some real damage. The boy went down, hitting the soft mat with a thud that seemed to echo off the walls. And Liam had never taken his hands out of his pockets.

The cheer that went up told him how weary the others were of this particular bully. But he also knew the dangers of provoking one and the likelihood Alan would take out his fury and embarrassment on the first smaller, weaker prey he could find. So Liam grinned and held out a hand to Alan.

“Great job, Alan. Thanks for being a good sport about it. Oh, and for not taking my head off.”

The implication that he could have if he’d wanted to seemed to mollify the boy. Liam watched him make the decision to play along. He let Liam give him the hand up.

“If you can’t take out the best, what good are you?” Alan said.

Bluster, Liam thought. But he only nodded. If he was really here to teach, it might be interesting to find out what was behind the bully facade. But right now he’d served a purpose. Every other kid in that gym was on Liam’s side now.

* * *

Liam almost had the mat rolled up for stowing under the bleachers along the side wall when he sensed the approach. Instead of looking behind him, he looked at Cutter, who was on his feet, tail wagging. Trusting the dog’s instincts, he finished the job before straightening up and turning around.

Dylan.

“Hey,” Liam said casually.

The boy nodded. “That was great. I liked the sound of the Krav Maga stuff.”

Liam smiled. “It’s effective. Designed for one purpose—street survival.”

“Neutralize the threat, you said.”

He nodded. “By whatever means necessary.”

Dylan nodded. And as if it were a signal, Cutter walked up to him, tail still wagging, ears up. The boy’s smile widened. He reached out to stroke the dog’s head. The tail wagged faster.

“I was watching him. He didn’t like Alan much.”

“He’s a very good judge of people.”

Dylan didn’t miss the implication, that Cutter clearly liked him as much as he’d disliked Alan. The boy looked pleased, which told Liam a lot.

“You want to talk about which way you want to go?” Liam asked.

Dylan shook his head. “I can’t. I shouldn’t even be here now. I have to get home. I’m stuck with watching my little brother, so I have to go get him.”

“I hated that, being the built-in babysitter,” Liam said.

Dylan’s gaze shot to his face. “Yeah. Sucks.”

There was something else there, Liam thought. Something deeper than just not liking being a babysitter. He glanced at Cutter, who was leaning into the boy, giving him the full-on Cutter stamp of approval. The boy continued petting the dog, smiling in a way that, for the moment at least, seemed to erase the shadows.

“You got some other time you could free up?” Liam asked. “I’m flexible.”

He saw something else flash in the boy’s eyes. Surprise? Even eagerness?

“Really? I mean, I have an hour-and-a-half break at eleven, between trig and English on Tuesday and Thursday.”

Liam had already known this from Ria; it was part of the plan, and why he’d made the suggestion. It would give them time without other kids around.

“All right. We’ll do your one-on-one session then. I’ll see if the gym’s available, or we’ll need to find someplace else.”

“Thanks,” Dylan said. “A lot.”

“No problem. We’ll take our time, until you decide what you want to pursue.”

“How about we go straight to Krav Maga?”

“If that’s what you want, I know a guy. I’ll hook you up. But you won’t be any good at it unless you can master the mental part first. It’s harder than you might think to really believe in no holds barred and no quarter given. It’s not the way most people think, if they’re not living in a war zone.”

“Those guys are serious,” Dylan said.

“They have to be. For them it’s survival. But for you, it’s all about control. Of the other guy, sure, but of you first. It has to be instinctive, second nature.”

“Like you did with Alan?”

Liam’s mouth quirked upward. “Nah. I was mainly focused on not really hurting him. Didn’t want to get sued by angry parents.”

“You’d have everybody there on your side, testifying that he jumped you.”

“They did seem to enjoy seeing him on his back,” Liam said with a grin.

Dylan smiled, and it was the most genuine one Liam had seen from him, except for when he was looking at Cutter. Which he did again now.

“Will you bring him?”

“If you want.”

“Yeah. He’s a great dog.”

“See you tomorrow, then?”

Dylan nodded, not even trying to hide his eagerness now. And when he left, even his steps seemed lighter.

“Thanks, buddy,” Liam said softly to Cutter as he watched the boy go. “We’re in the door now, at least.”

He reached out to scratch behind the dog’s right ear, in that spot he liked. The feathery tail began to wag again. And it was a moment before Liam realized it wasn’t simply the touch he was happy about. Someone was once more coming up behind him. And this one was a bigger threat than Alan had ever thought about being. To Liam, anyway.

Ria.