“More running?” I groan. “Am I being punished for something?”
“Your balance sucks, your form is trash, and if anyone grabbed you right now, you’d be kidnapped and dead within a day.”
“And running’s supposed to help with that?”
He steps close enough that he’s blocking the morning sun, and I’m standing in his shadow.
“We don’t talk about me or my family,” he says, and the lightness is gone from his voice. “You do what I say, when I say it, and you don’t complain.”
I bristle. “Get real.”
He doesn’t react, just keeps pressing closer, until my heart skips from the way his energy skims along my skin.
“First we fix your stamina,” he continues. “Then we fix your form.”
“Great. You’re a sadist.” I groan, rubbing my palm over my sweat-slicked hair. I drop my hand halfway through the motion. “Wait. What?”
He tilts his head, studying me like he’s measuring how much damage he can inflict.
My gaze drops to the way his throat bobs as he swallows, and a sharp, unwelcome twist happens low in my stomach.
“I’ll teach you,” he says. “But those are my terms.”
I stare at him, waiting for the punch line. For the laugh, for the dismissal, for the cruelty that came so easily yesterday morning.
It doesn’t come.
“You’ll teach me how to fight?” I ask.
He holds my stare for a long second, then nods once beforetaking off back the way we came. He whistles for Cavall, and I’m left standing there with my heart doing cartwheels in my chest.
“What changed?” I ask, scrambling to catch up.
He sighs and looks over at me, his eyes swirling with an emotion I’ve never seen on him before. “Because I know what it feels like to become a victim of your circumstances, and I hate to see it happening to you.”
He jogs away again, staying a little ahead the entire way back to the cabin.
I feel nervous. Scared, maybe. Afraid of failing.
But there’s a small, traitorous thing in my chest that feels a lot like relief.
Late Nights and Loose Lips: The Calloway Saga Isn’t Over
Oh, Rosebrook. Just when we’d started to think the Lance Calloway and Genevieve DeGrance whispers had fizzled into background noise, the tea kettle went and whistled.
Multiple tip-offs landed in our inbox overnight (you nosy angels), all saying the same thing:Lance was spotted entering Genevieve’s HillPoint apartment building not once, but twice in twenty-four hours.
Now, we’re not saying anything happened, but we’re also absolutely saying that itmighthave.
Whereisour beloved Arthur Penngrove these days? And what does he think about all this?
We reached out to the mayor’s office, who hit us with a “no comment” so fast we got whiplash.
So, whatisgoing on? A friendship turned…complicated? A breakup in slow motion?
One thing’s for sure: This triangle is looking like a ticking time bomb.
And youknowwe’ll be watching when it goes off.
