Page 85 of Shattered By Grace

Her brows furrowed as she glanced out the window. The streets looked unfamiliar. Shadows stretched long across thepavement, headlights catching the slick sheen forming on the road.

She stiffened. “Wait.”

Tristan didn’t look at her. Her pulse kicked up. The rain grew heavier, streaking the windows. “This isn’t the way to my apartment.”

His grip on the wheel remained relaxed. “Nope.”

“Tristan.” Her stomach twisted. Thunder rumbled again, closer this time.

“Yes, Grace?” He smirked, eyes still on the road.

She turned fully toward him, eyes narrowing. A flash of lightning lit up his face for half a second. “Where the hell are we going?”

“My place.”

“Excuse me?”

Tristan shot her a quick glance, completely unbothered. The windshield wipers dragged across the glass in slow, methodical sweeps. “You had a full-blown panic attack in my arms, and you think I’m just gonna drop you off alone in that shoebox apartment of yours? Yeah, not happening, sweetheart.” His voice was gruff, but there was something else beneath it.

Her mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again. Rain drummed harder against the roof. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” he drawled. “That’s why you were getting your ass kicked by my father’s goons twenty minutes ago.”

“I had it handled,” she scowled.

“Sure you did,” he mused. “That’s why I found you on the ground, gasping for air like a fish out of water.”

Victoria crossed her arms, her cheeks heating. Thunder growled overhead, shaking the car. “You’re such an ass.”

Tristan chuckled. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For not leaving you half-naked and crying in a gym shower.”

Her jaw clenched. “Oh, screw you.”

“Not tonight, Grace. You need food. Then sleep.”

Victoria groaned, letting her head fall back against the seat. The storm outside was nothing compared to the storm inside her. “I hate you.”

Tristan smirked. “Yeah, yeah. Buckle up, 'cause you’re stuck with me tonight.”

The drive had been quiet. Too quiet. Rain pounded against the windshield, the rhythmic thud nearly lulling Victoria into sleep. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact that Tristan had practically kidnapped her for the night, but exhaustion kept her from putting up too much of a fight.

Tristan’s grip tightened on the wheel, knuckles pale. “My father doesn’t send men out for fun.”

The words hung heavy between them. The kind of heavy that said someone was going to pay for this.

“Why were they after you?” he asked, voice low, sharp.

Before she could speak, he scoffed and cut her off. “No, don’t answer. Doesn’t matter. He thinks I’ve gone weak over you.”

Victoria flinched, but didn’t look at him. Her gaze stayed fixed on the storm outside, lightning flashing against the glass like it knew exactly how close everything was to detonating.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel once, jaw tight. “Should’ve known he’d pull this shit.”

A humorless scoff slipped out. “I take one step back from the business and suddenly he thinks I’m distracted…what, over a girl?” He shook his head. “Sending his guys to rough you up just to make a point. ”

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