“You guys took a self-defense class before?” Why hadn’t Jenna mentioned it?
Juliette nodded.
“In college,” Nicky said.
Jenna had just been starting to deal with everything then. Had that been another bad experience for her? “Walk with me for a minute?”
She agreed, and we walked down the hall of the YMCA until we found a quiet nook. I hugged her to my side for a long minute before I set her back just enough to see her face. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“You took a self-defense class in college?”
She nodded, and the flicker of doubt in her eyes confirmed my suspicion was spot-on.
“Did something happen there?” I asked gently.
“The class was fine.” She shrugged, trying to act casual. “I was dating someone then, and I wanted to practice what I’d learned. You know the move where he holds your wrist and then you come down on his forearm?”
My pulse pounded like a battle drum, but I forced a smile for her. If this was the asshole who’d slept with her when she was scared, and he did something else to her, I’d kill him right after I killed Brian. “A hammer fist to his forearm?”
“Yeah. I did that, and it worked. I hit him and twisted my arm and turned like they showed us, and I got out of his hold.”
“Good for you.”
“Then he grabbed me, and he…he wouldn’t let go. Said none of it would help because I was so little.”
Dead. He was a dead man. “I hate that prick.”
“I did leave a bruise on his arm, though.”
“Good girl. He was wrong. You’re more than capable of defending yourself,” I said, then I hesitated. I didn’t want to make it worse for her, but now that she brought it up, and I could literally see the way she folded in on herself—like the asshole was still making her feel small—I couldn’t let it go. I leaned against the peeling paint of the cinderblock wall and held her hands loosely, careful not to cage her in. “Was that the guy you told me about? The first one you had sex with?”
“The second, actually. The first was just a guy I knew from class.”
Both fucking assholes. I ran my thumbs over her knuckles, her hands so fragile in mine, but she was so tough. “Can you tell me about them?”
She nodded. “The guy from class was nice, and he seemed interested in me. I wanted to prove I was over what happened with Brian, so I invited him to my room to study. He was flirting,and I...initiated more. I probably seemed more experienced than I was, because, well, I did have experience with that.”
Motherfucker.
“But then he touched me, and that’s when I started to freak out.” Her hands clenched in mine, and I tightened my grip on her. “I hated his hands on me. But I didn’t want that to end it, so I rushed to having sex. I never did that with Brian, so I hoped it would be okay.”
There was so much wrong with that it made me insane, but I had to keep my cool for her. “You didn’t do anything with Brian. He did it to you.”
She just shrugged.
“What happened when you had sex with him?” God, it was hard to say those words.
She kicked at the floor, her eyes following the movement. “It hurt. It was my first time, and I was so tense and nervous.”
Stupid fucking asshole. “I’m sorry, Firefly. He should have stopped everything as soon as he saw you were uncomfortable.”
“It wasn’t his fault. I wanted it. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. He tried to touch me before and during, which I know is supposed to make it better, but I didn’t let him.” She looked up, finally meeting my eyes, as if there was any chance she could convince me he wasn’t an asshole.
“He was still wrong.”
Jenna shrugged again. “The next guy was the one I did the hammer fist to. We dated for a couple of months. Things were easier with him. I knew I didn’t want him to touch me, and he was fine jumping right to sex, so that helped, but?—”