With sweat. With the ache of muscle and the weight of impact.
The gym was stripped-down. Functional. No mirrors. No luxury. It wasn’t made to impress. It was built to break you down and see what was left.
Scuffed floors. Chalk stains. The faint tang of metal and effort in the air.
The heavy bag hung in the center, waiting.
He wrapped his hands tight, the friction of the tape rough against his skin. Grounding. Familiar.
Then he hit.
Left. Right. Again.
The sound of impact echoed sharp in the room, each punch landing with clean precision. His breath settled into rhythm, sweat slicking down his back.
But no matter how hard he hit, it didn’t stop the flicker.
Her.
Not soft. Not sweet. Striking.
Present.
Eyes steady and sure. She’d decided she wasn’t intimidated. Not by him. Not by the club.
Another punch. Harder.
She didn’t adapt. She took over.
Most people bent. She conquered. She walked in, like she’d been there all along, and made the space fold around her.
Another punch. Then another. Knuckles stinging, breath ragged.
He knew how to read people. Could map their intentions before they even moved.
But Arden Rivers? She was unreadable.
Composed. Volatile. Polished, but dangerous underneath. Controlled, but not contained.
She never flinched. Not then. Not now.
She didn’t back off. Not in his head. Not even here.
His fist slammed into the bag with a final thud. The bag swung, and he grabbed it. Steadied it, as if he could anchor himself through it.
Silence followed—thick, unforgiving.
He swiped the towel across his face, breath catching hard, then dropped onto the bench. The fabric hung damp around his neck, sticking to the back of his shirt.
Across the room, the mirror caught him from an angle he didn’t like: drenched, hollow-eyed, wrecked in ways a workout couldn’t explain.
Not the untouchable Blackwell persona. Not the controlled figure people expected him to be.
Just a man staring down something too big to get his hands around.
He leaned in, elbows planted on his knees, jaw tight. The quiet pressed in from all sides, heavy and unbroken.
She came. The thought kept circling. Relentless.
