It didn’t look like a gym. It looked like a very cheap and skanky motel. But she followed her father through an outside door and down into the dungeon of the building.

The lighting was dim inside, so it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. But then she saw a sparring box in the middle of the room, with punching bags and weights scattered throughout. Several windowless doors led out of the room, and muffled clanging sounds came from somewhere beyond. A few other men and women stood about the room watching two people in the sparring box. Jaci stared in fascination at the fluid way they moved their bodies. It was a woman and a man, and it instantly intrigued her that he treated her as an equal. She recognized the kick-boxing moves, but other actions were thrown in, as naturally as if they were choreographed. Her father fell in with a group of men, and Jaci sidled up to Finn.

“What fighting style is that?” she asked.

He leaned his head down closer to her to be heard. “It’s MMA. Mixed Martial Arts. We all learn the moves and basics, but in a fight, your goal is to win. There are no rules.” He nodded at her leg. “You’ve seen Karate Kid?”

“That movie from the eighties?” She had to laugh. “Who hasn’t?”

“Okay, so, he, the boy, he hurts his leg in the tournament and can’t use it. But he doesn’t quit because he has other moves. He tries an experimental kick that takes all the weight off his injury, and he wins. Sometimes you have to think outside the box, but your body is a deadly weapon.”

Jaci considered that, trying to remember the scene he referenced. Daniel, the main character, was illegally injured and had to stand on his one good leg and issue a kick midair to take out his opponent. Could she do that? Somewhat inspired, she paid more attention to the sparring.

“Hansel.” Mr. Rivera stopped a fair-haired man as he walked by. “This is my daughter, Jacinta.”

Jaci straightened as the blocky man surveyed her. “Hi,” she said. Should she offer her hand?

He gave a head bob in greeting, crystal blue eyes studying her. Jaci’s father continued talking.

“I want you to train her. Can you?”

Now Hansel’s gaze became more intense. “I will see what she’s got. Has she trained before?”

“She’s a runner. Done a few triathlons.”

Jaci didn’t comment. She had done a few before her father left, it was true, but she hadn’t since then.

“She can do it,” her father said, his tone becoming more commanding. “You might have to push her.”

Push her? Jaci jutted her chin out. “You won’t have to push me. I’ll do whatever you need.”

A glint of approval entered Hansel’s eyes. “Follow me.”

Hansel led her through one of the doors and flipped the lights on, revealing a square room with a pad on the floor. He hadn’t slowed for her even when she favored her injured ankle, and Jaci’s heart rate increased as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She had the feeling he wasn’t going to offer her any quarter.

“Fighting stance,” he said, and she moved into position, bending her knees slightly and moving her arms to protect her face. She rocked to the balls of her feet, sucking in a quiet breath when her ankle protested.

He didn’t miss it. His eyes flicked to her feet and back to her face. “Where are you hurt?”

“My ankle,” she said. “I sprained it three weeks ago.” Lucky it hadn’t been a bad sprain, but still her doctor had said to give it six weeks before she tried running again.

“Keep your weight off it as much as possible so it is ready to aid you if you need it. Shift your weight to your good leg.”

Jaci complied. While the relief to her injury was immediate, she could tell her left leg would soon feel the strain of carrying her body weight.

“Keep your arms up,” he commanded.

She did so, and suddenly he swung at her. The motion shocked her, and her hands fell away from her face. She lost her balance completely and tumbled backward, hitting the wall before she landed on her rump. Instantly she pushed off and moved back into position, humiliated that she hadn’t been ready. She knew her opponent wasn’t going to give her a warning before he attacked.

He came at her again, and this time Jaci managed to get a punch in as his arm came near her. He blocked it, but she threw a left hook. His attention turned to her arms. Now would be a great time to use her legs, but she wasn’t sure how to utilize her uninjured leg without falling. So she kicked with her tender ankle, aiming a roundhouse for his face. He caught her leg up in his arm and yanked her toward him.

This wasn’t over yet. Using his body as a crutch, she swung her other leg at his waist. For a moment she was entirely in the air, supported only by his grip on her leg. Then her leg connected, and he let go. She dropped to the mat and scrambled to all fours before pushing to her feet. She panted, completely exerted, but also exhilarated.

He raised one eyebrow and then launched himself at her again. Jaci ducked away and then swiveled behind him. She jumped onto his back and wrapped an arm around his neck. She tightened her hold, but he reached up and gripped her behind the head. In one swift motion, he yanked her over his body and dropped her to the mat.

Jaci lay there gasping for breath, her chest heaving, staring at the yellow lights over head. One . . . Two. . . Three . . . Get up. She rolled to her belly and got on her feet.

“You need a break,” he said.

“No, I don’t,” she replied, wiping sweat from her brow. Dimly she recognized that her body had taken a beating, but her blood pumped too hard to quit now. Her ankle didn’t even hurt anymore.

“One more time,” he agreed.

This time she didn’t wait for him. Jaci attacked first, relishing the motion of taking control. He blocked her so smoothly that she knew he wasn’t battling her at his top capacity.

“Block your middle,” he snapped, and she did. He knocked her leg down as she kicked, then he aimed for her face. She blocked him, then threw her own punch.

She’d received too many punches to the face in the past few years. She pictured Gavin in her mind, Amanda’s ex-boyfriend, the creep who had tailed her and snapped pictures of her, feeding information to Sid, the man who wanted to buy her. She’d punched him once, given him a nose bleed, and she wanted to do it again. She wanted to hurt him, make him pay for what he’d done to Amanda, to her, to Joey—

Joey. Her throat clenched and her teeth rattled, the familiar pain lancing through her body. But this time a hot rage accompanied it. She responded to Hansel’s commands and moved in rhythm with his attack, feeling herself falling into a similar give-and-take dance as she’d witnessed on the sparring box when she walked in.

And then he stopped. He lowered his hands to his thighs and bowed his head. “You have natural skill and a deep aggressive drive. It will be an honor to train you.”

She took a step back, panting, her vision swimming. Slowly she felt an awareness returning to herself, and a chill washed over her body.

Hansel was already moving to the door. Jaci dropped her hands and followed, her ankle suddenly throbbing hard enough to make her limp. How many times had she kicked him? Jumped and landed on her foot?

He approached her father and Jaci followed, wishing she had a towel to wipe her face. Hansel reached her father first, and they conversed while she caught up. Both men turned to face her, and her father gave a genuine smile.

“Hansel says you have skill already.”

“I took kick-boxing for over a year after the kidnapping.” Jaci paused beside them, her ankle smarting.

“She has ambition. Aggression. I will train her every day. By the end of this week, she will be a formidable opponent.”

“What time?” her father asked.

“Six a.m. But she needs to tape her ankle.”

“Understood. We will see you tomorrow.”

“What just happened?” Jaci asked, turning to her father as Hansel walked away.

“I’ll bring you back tomorrow and he will train you. Soon you will be ready.” He put a hand on her shoulder and peered into her eyes. “How do you feel?”

“A bit sore,” she admitted. “But probably worse tomorrow.”

“And here?” He tapped her collar bone right above her heart.

She exhaled. “Brave. Angry. Like I’ll never be the victim again.”

“Exactly, mija.” He tightened his grip on her shoulder. “I have one more thing to teach you tonight. Are you up to it?”

“I don’t know. Does it involve jumping?” She glanced around the gym, wondering where Finn had gotten off to.

“No. Mostly just your eyes.”

He led her to another door. The muffled clinking she’d heard earlier grew louder as they neared it, but when he opened the door, the deafening clang of artillery filled her ears.

Jaci froze.

Guns.