A long, nasty-looking scar curves along her upper thigh before hiding under the pair of tight shorts.
Isolde’s hand moves, breaking the spell. A faint pink paints her cheeks as she tucks hair behind her ear.
“Yell for help if the Akatov tries to kill you.” The door closes behind me.
Luis picks his head up while doing pushups. “Did you just come from the girls’ locker room?”
Antonio’s moves still until some noise rattles in my throat. He rushes to finish his reps.
It’s a small group today. Luis, Antonio, and Elias Rojas. The latter isn’t even my employee, but he grew up next door to me, and despite the more than ten-year age difference,he’s my responsibility. He’s training for the fights and always joins our workouts.
Because he’s not officially my employee, he’s the one who feels like he can pepper me with annoying questions.
“How’s it going?” he asks, mid-crunch.
When I’m not inclined to answer, Antonio pushes his luck. “Is she going to come with us every time?”
It’s not exactly a bad question. There’s no way I would have brought Ren to Leon’s. She’s not exactly down to earth with her tailored suits and online shopping addiction. Plus, she’d probably sit and bitch the whole time if I dared to bring her to a gym.
I made a split-second decision this morning. If I’m being honest, after talking to Ciaran, I’d like to move Isolde to a safe house. Her location has to be compromised by now, but I know she won’t go for it.
She’d looked shattered after Ren left. I don’t have a sister, but I’ve got enough female cousins to know how nasty the fights can get. And Ren and Isolde are two peas in a pod. I heard their bickering. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but I’d never seen Ren look so frustrated before.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, we’d been in a shootout. Technically, it’s probably not even a good idea for Isolde to workout. But other than the gun range, this is the only place that clears my head. Nobody’s going to make a move on Isolde while we’re here. At least not without everyone in this building jumping to save her.
Trips to the gym would give us both some quiet time. It’s important for me to have these check-ins with my guys, and Isolde can find some of her own endorphins.
“If she wants to,” I answer Antonio.
Isolde didn’t seem too put out when she realized we were at a gym. And my shoulders lighten, liking the idea that she wouldn’t mind coming here more often. This contract cameunexpectedly and potentially will be a long haul. I’d be grateful to still get the chance to hit up Leon’s.
Out of the corner of my eye, she appears with Adeline. The Akatov daughter heads toward the weights, but Isolde starts up a treadmill.
“You okay, cousin?” Luis asks, pulling himself off the floor.
“Great, we’re going to do sprints next.”
Antonio mutters in Spanish, abruptly stopping when my eyes cut to him.
“You’ve got three more reps,” I remind him. Isolde messes with the treadmill settings. The giant shirt she wears covers her shorts, highlighting her pale legs. I can’t see the scar from here, but I know it’d be visible even with the distance.
Bit by bit,Ciaran had said last night. Cade likes to cut women up.
A giant rock sits in the pit of my stomach.
What the hell happened, Isolde?
I’d wanted her to open up to Ren so I could eavesdrop.
The scar is still painful looking, a bright pink. It’s got to be deep, and there’d have been a shit ton of blood, considering it intersects with her femoral artery.
How the fuck did she survive that? How the fuck can she pretend like everything is okay?
She’s not, a voice in the back of my head says, and I know it’s true. Isolde knows she’s in deep shit. She’s just not letting anyone in.
Nerves light inside me. My job is to keep my clients safe, not solve their personal problems. But Isolde’s demons are going to come after us if she keeps this up.
“Cuz?” Luis taps my shoulder. “Are you okay, or what?”
