Little Fury: Book 1 of The deadly Little Thing Trilogy
Little Fury: Chapter 34

The next couple of days pass quietly. Declan has been out to my place every day, managing to make friends with Caden and Matt. He’s been helping them build a pergola. Ben won’t speak to him, furious that the Campbells have someone better than him. He’s been obsessively trying to figure out who it is. Declan won’t tell him anything, making Ben even more obsessed. I told Caden to give him one more day before stepping in to force Ben to stop.

“Ready, Matt?” I ask as I come out to where they are building.

“Yeah, let me just get this last screw in.”

“Have you beat him yet?” Caden asks me with all seriousness.

“No, Caden. I have not. Once he has me under him, I can’t move him, so I will keep trying.”

“You’ll get it. Then you can Pin Matt.”

“He likes that position, so I don’t think he’ll mind too much.” I cackle at that.

“Fucker,” Matt says and punches Caden when he walks past him.

“Ava,” Declan says, but I just walk by, ignoring him. I hear his sigh, but I keep walking like I didn’t.

“Sorry man, she’ll come around,” Caden says to him.

“No, she won’t. She’s done with men who lie, or try to kill her,” I throw back at him.

We head into the gym and start stretching and warming up. Matt has been trying to teach me how to get out from under a man faster. I’m small, which makes me quick, but I’m always at the mercy of my size if my opponent gets the jump on me. That’s why I’m always on the offensive when fighting or killing. I need to take them out or incapacitate whoever they are faster than they can get a hold of me. I can get out of a lot of holds, but once I’m pinned, like I had Declan pinned, I’m fucked.

It’s happened to me twice. The first time, the guy tried to teach me a lesson by showing me the only thing he thought women are good for. When he went for my pants, his center of gravity shifted, and I bucked him off, hitting him in the head with a nearby rock. It dazed him enough for me to kick him in the balls, retrieve my gun, and shoot him in the head.

The second time, unfortunately, the guy was smarter. He knew who I was and my record, so he just wanted to kill me. He got me down fast and hard, cracking a rib with the impact. Once he was on top of me, the combination of his size and the broken rib made it impossible for me to regain my breath. He had me. I knew I was dead. But that’s why I never go alone on a job.

Often, it’s only me doing the job, but I always have someone with me in case shit goes sideways. Shit went sideways, and Marcus saved me. He shot the guy in the back of the head and got me the fuck out of there.

“Okay, Ava, let’s try to get one arm free today. I know you have enough skill with pressure points and such that if you can get one arm free, you should be able to inflict enough pain to change the attacker’s position slightly. I’m not sure if it will be enough, but I think it’s a good idea to try.”

“That sounds good,” I say as I plug in my phone. “What do you want to listen to?”

“I don’t know. Whatever you’re feeling works for me.”

“Death metal it is,” Matt gives me a dirty look. I settle on a bluegrass playlist instead. “All the Debts I Owe” by Caamp fills the gym and the rest of the house.

I crack my neck and shake out my hands, watching him, waiting to see when he’ll decide to strike. He’s fucking fast for a big guy, so I can’t take my eyes from him. I manage to avoid his initial grab and go for his legs, but he knows that’s what I’ll do and it allows him to grab me by the leg and tosses me gently, so I land on the mat. He wastes no time getting on top of me. His larger than fuck body has me locked down underneath him. He makes no mistakes about his body placement on mine. I fight a bit, but I need him to pin me, so I eventually swallow down my need to win and let him.

The goal is to get one arm free. The only thing free for me is my head and legs. My legs are the better choice. I need to get his balance to shift before I can get my arm out from under him. I bend my knees knowing he is expecting me to thrust my hips up. This move works well, but he knows it’s coming and counteracts it. I’ve whined that my attackers won’t know my moves like he does, and he tells me to suck it up and figure it out without the hip thrust.

I’ve been talking to Harry, and he has sent me a few videos: one on how to do a modified outside heel lock and another showing me how to hook my legs under his arms and push him off. I’m going to try both today.

The heel lock is first. I scoot my foot back towards my ass until it’s lined with his toe on that side. Then, I get my other foot against the inside of the heel. As quickly as I can, I force his ankle to bend to the floor and twist simultaneously. It works, and I have his lower leg twisted at an uncomfortable angle, and I pull myself out from under him, hitting him in the head, or in a real situation, shooting him in the head or stabbing him in the throat.

I do enjoy a good throat jab or stab.

“Jesus, Ava, that fucking hurt. I think you pulled the ligaments in my ankle.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure how much strength I needed to make it work.”

“It’s ok. I’m happy you got out of the hold. But I think I need to stop for today. I need to ice my ankle.”

“I really am sorry, but I’m also super proud of myself.” I can’t help but smile at him as we leave the gym. Matt is limping, so I get under his arm to take some weight off his ankle.

Declan and Caden are still outside working. I sit Matt on the couch. “I’ll go get your buddy, the doctor, to have a look at you.”

“No, that’s not needed.” But I’ve already started to walk towards the guys building the pergola.

I stopped to look at the progress of it. I need to hire less attractive men because, seriously, it’s beyond ridiculous when you throw a shirtless Jake/Declan into the mix. I shake my head, and I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips.

“Doctor Campbell, Matt had an accident in the gym, and he was hoping you could take a look at him?”

“Doctor Campbell? Really, Ava?”

“Doctor Campbell, is that a, yes?”

“God dammit woman.” He mutters, resignation, or maybe a touch of defeat in his voice. My stomach does an involuntary flip of fear for a moment, then I remind myself who he is. “Yes, I’ll come and take a look at him.”

“Great, he is on the couch. I’m going to get my suit on, boys. The ocean is calling my name.’

“Did you take him down, Ava?” Caden asks me.

“I sure did!”

I change quickly into a bathing suit and grab my hat, sunglasses, gun, book, headphones and beach mat. I spray myself down with sunscreen before tossing the bottle in my bag. I stop in the kitchen where Marguerite is making cookies. “Hello, Miss Ava.”

“Hi! Those look yummy.”

“Yes, Dr. Declan said he likes peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, so I thought I would make him some. Welcome him to your family.” Her Spanish-accented English always makes me smile.

“Umm, that is not necessary. He will not be staying.” She eyes me like she doesn’t believe me.

“Oh, come on now, Little Fury, we both know I’ll crack you soon enough,” Declan says with that strong, Irish accent.

“Fuck off, Dr. Campbell.”

“Here, dear, I made you a sandwich and a few snacks,” Marguerite says, handing me a small cooler bag. “Your mug is already filled with ice and water. You go now. Relax,” she says and sends me on my way.

I walk down to the beach and replace my usual spot. I set my stuff down and lay out my beach mat. I get myself settled. “Fuck,” I say, realizing I forgot my beach reading chair. It’s this stand-on-its-own armchair pillow thingy. I sit there trying to decide how lazy I am. Do I go back and get it? Do I just make do? Do I text one of the guys and offer them a thousand dollars to bring it to me? If I thought for one moment they wouldn’t be dicks and send Declan with it, I would for sure take door number three. My aggravated sigh is more like a toddler whine than a grown woman’s.

“Ughhhhh,” I grumble as I grab my bag, because it’s not like I can leave my gun unattended on the beach.

A shadow crosses over me, and I know who it is without even looking. “Fuck Jake–I mean Declan–why are you here?”

“Caden said you forgot this thing.” I look at him, and he is holding my thingy.

“You brought me my thingy?”

“You call it a thingy?”

“I have no idea what to call it. Caden made it for me. He took one of my reading pillows and gave it a hardback and a small stand part that sinks into the sand for stability. Then he had Marguerite cover it in a more beach-friendly fabric. So THINGY!” I raise my hands, gesturing for him to figure it out. “If thingy bothers you so much, you fucking rename it.”

I hear him sigh again, and my heart clenches, and my stomach flips again. Thinking that I might have hurt his feelings.

Fucking body is a traitor just like the guys. Then I remember his name is Declan. He’s Irish, and his brother is the head of the Campbell Family. And I don’t feel bad anymore.

“Bye, Declan,” I say, dismissing him. I watch his shadow retreat as he heads back to the house.

Maybe he won’t be there when I get back this time. Perhaps he’s had enough. I’m not mature enough to dissect the pang of loss I feel thinking he won’t be there when I get back to the house. I put him out of my head, put my headphones on and open my book. I’ve been reading for about an hour when a commotion out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. I put my book down and remove my headphones, and I hear a woman screaming.