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As I gather my things, I catch Matthew still watching us from across the gym. His expression is unreadable, but when Carter raises a hand in farewell, Matthew gives a nod. Something passes between them, an understanding I’m not part of.
Outside, the afternoon sun warms my face. I pause on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath. My muscles ache, and I know tomorrow will bring soreness, but there’s something else, too. A feeling of achievement, of reclaiming control, one step at a time.
My phone buzzes. A text from Morgan comes through. Dinner tonight? My treat. Tell me everything about your first day of ass-kicking lessons.
I smile, typing back a quick, Yes. Morgan’s been checking in daily since that night, never pushing, always there. Her steady friendship has been a lifeline these past weeks.
Heading to my car, I catch my reflection in a store window. The woman staring back is still bruised, still haunted around the eyes, but there’s something new there too: a hard determination that feels less fragile every day.
She’s learning to fight back, that reflection tells me. To be dangerous. And for the first time since that night, the thought doesn’t scare me at all.
Carter
I catch Trixie’s reflection in the gym window as she heads to her car, shoulders set with a determination that wasn’t there just weeks ago. A knot twists inside me, not the usual ache of wanting her, but something new, dangerously close to hope. At her car, she pauses, glancing back at the gym with a smile that hits me with the force of a memory I had almost forgotten. The sun catches her hair, and for a fleeting moment, she looks like she did before that night—before shadows darkened her gaze.
She waves, a small gesture. I wave back, knowing she probably can’t see me through the glass. Then she’s in her car, the engine hums to life, and she’s gone, leaving me standing there, hand still raised like an idiot.
I turn to see my dad leaning against the counter, a grin spreading across his weathered face. My mom stands beside him, mirroring his expression, one hand covering her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Shut up,” I mutter, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off my face.
“Three years,” Mom says, stepping closer. “Three years of pining after Matthew’s sister, and you finally make a move by offering to teach her to fight? Real smooth, son.”
“It’s not like that.” The lie tastes bitter. “She asked me to teach her. After everything.”
“And you just happened to be free?” Dad arches an eyebrow, skeptically. I throw the towel at him, but he catches it easily, smirking.
“She needs to feel safe again. That’s all this is.”
“Sure, it is.” My sister Arabella joins us and rolls her eyes. “That’s why you act like you’ve won a championship every time she breaks free of one of your holds.”
Heat rises in my face. I didn’t realize I was being that obvious. “She’s a fast learner. Natural instinct.”
“Natural something,” Dad mutters, just loud enough.
I shoot him a look meant to shut him up, but he just grins wider. Arabella nudges my shoulder, her teasing giving way to something more serious.
“She’s good for you,” she says softly. “You’ve been less of an ass since she came home from the hospital.”
“Thanks for that,” I reply, grabbing my water bottle to avoid saying more.
But they’re right. Everyone sees it. All these years I’ve kept my distance—Matthew’s sister, wrong timing, every bullshit excuse I could find. And for what? I almost lost her for good. The thought is a cold spike in my gut.
My dad claps my shoulder, murmuring so only I can hear, “Come over for dinner tonight. Your mom’s been on me to get you over there.”
I grin, thinking of my mom who’ll cook enough for an army and spend all night trying to feed me.
“Good. And try not to let your sister drag you into sparring. She’s got a title bout coming up and needs fresh meat.”
“Tell her I’ll be there. Are Jacob and Elijah home from college?”
He nods, grinning. “They are, and they’re raising hell. Your mother’s loving it.”
Chapter 3
Trixie
Two weeks later
