Page 109 of Without a Trace
“The hell I am.”
“You’re shaking.”
“So?” I spat blood into the sand. “This was his idea, wasn’t it?”
No one answered.
I looked at all of them. “I didn’t ask to be here. Didn’t ask for any of this. I was fine in my villa, drinking coffee in my goddamn underwear.”
Kane’s mouth twitched, but Zeke’s eyes stayed sharp.
“I didn’t start this,” I said. “But I’m sure as hell going to finish it.”
Zeke gave the faintest nod. “She’s trained.”
Rhett exhaled. “You didn’t need to prove anything.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I did.”
And I stayed in that ring.
Blood on my teeth.
Sand on my skin.
The sun high above and nothing soft left in me.
If Trace wanted to turn me into a weapon—
He should’ve known I’d come out swinging.
Trace
Isaid nothing.
Because what could I say? I’d wanted her ready. But I hadn’t been ready for this.
Not for her grit.
Not for the way my pulse kept syncing to her movements.
Not for how fucking gorgeous she looked, defiant and wild, half-feral under the sun with bruises already blooming across her ribs and pride stitched into every swing.
The crowd had turned into a storm. Rhett said something low and careful, something I couldn’t hear. She shook her head, undeterred.
Then she struck again.
And I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Not because she was mine.
Because I was hers.
Even if she never chose.
Even if she walked off that beach and never looked back.
She’d already made me into something I couldn’t un-become.
