Perfect Lies by Kiersten White Page B

let people take care of me as a default.
    I’m sick of it.
    My thoughts drift to the bottle of pills buried in the bottom of my bag upstairs. I still haven’t started taking them. I wanted to ask Sarah what it was like, if it helped, but she and Rafael left as soon as we got to this tiny house in Tennessee. They said it was to muddy the trail, and they’ll meet back up with us when they feel like it’s safer. So I’m stuck here with only Cole.
    A foot nudges my shoulder, hard, and I twist and shove it away. Cole? Not such pleasant company.
    “You have strengths, too. Good balance,” he says. “And you recognized the Keane employee’s voice after years.”
    I stand, trying not to groan. “It’s not like I have superhearing or some sort of bat sense. No mystical blind-person powers.”
    His voice is dry. “Other than the whole seeing-the-future thing.”
    I flip him off.
    “Put your hand on my shoulder. Notice anything?”
    I frown. I do, actually. His shoulder is covered with muscle. My shoulders do
not
feel like that. “Umm, it’s very … shouldery?”
    He shoves lightly against my hand. “Think of the angle.”
    It takes me a few more seconds, then I laugh. “You’re short!”
    “We’re about the same height, which puts you at five foot six. Average for a girl. Small for a guy.”
    “So you use this to your advantage?”
    “Nobody suspects the little ones. I also have a very charming smile.”
    I snort. “Doubtful. Does anyone ever even see it?”
    “Sometimes. Now. You’re going to be best in close quarters. Let’s work on judo techniques. Fast and dirty throws, maximum pain, and then you run.”
    “Okay. I’m ready. What do I do?”
    “Stand there and look defenseless.”
    I kick at his shin, but miss. As usual. So I opt to stick my tongue out, and then I stand still and look defenseless. It’s easy.
    He grabs me from behind, locking his hands around my waist and pinning my arms at my side. I’ve never noticed how he smells before. It’s soft, barely a trace, but he smells like … soap. It’s a clean, honest scent, not advertising anything but the truth.
    “Help, help,” I say, raising my voice an octave. “I am so defenseless. Woe is me.”
    “What do you have free?”
    My feet, my head. Without stopping to think about the consequences, I slam my head back into his face.
    He lets go, swearing and stomping.
    “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” I turn around, hands over my mouth in horror. “I didn’t mean to! I should have warned you! Or said what I should do instead of actually doing it. Did I break your nose? Are you bleeding?”
    His voice is strained and muffled, but I think it’s amused. I hope it’s amused. “No, that was good. Noses are always good. Groins, too. If you can find his legs, you can hit his groin.”
    I feel myself blushing, but I nod. “Done?”
    “No, not done. I’m going to grab you and you’re going to get away. However you need to.”
    He doesn’t wait for me to agree.
    Ten minutes later we’re both panting. He has me by the hair; I grab at his hand.
    “Ignore it,” he says. “You can afford to lose hair. Focus on getting away.”
    I slam my elbow back, hitting his ribs, then twist under his hand, my hair ripping at my scalp and making my eyes tear. I bring my knee up to hit him in the stomach, but I miss.
    “Good! Really good!”
    “What are you doing?” Adam sounds horrified. Cole and I freeze, his hand still wrapped up in my hair, my hands around his other wrist. I was about to bite him.
    Oh kill me. Why would Adam show up
now
?
    Cole disentangles his hand, and his voice comes out far calmer than mine would. “We’re practicing.”
    “Practicing
what
? Annie, you’re crying, are you okay? What did he do?” Adam’s arm comes around my shoulders, and I hurriedly wipe under my eyes.
    “No, I’m not crying, my eyes are watering. From the hair. It’s okay. I’m learning self-defense.”
    “She’s not going to get in any