Her arms slide around my waist, solid, as she presses herself into my back.
“Are you okay?” she murmurs, voice still raspy with sleep.
I let out a long breath, setting my cup down on the counter.
My hand comes up, covering hers where it rests against me, anchoring myself there for a second longer than I need to.
“Yeah,” I say, steadily, “I’ve got you.”
Her arms draw in just a little more, like she knows that wasn’t really an answer.
But she doesn’t push.
“I know,” she replies. “Just making sure you’ve got yourself, too.”
Then the moment passes.
“You’re up early,” she says, relaxed.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I reply, reaching for my coffee again.
“Gym?” she asks, as if it’s a question, even though we both know it’s not.
I glance at the clock.
“Yeah.”
Routine settles in.
She moves first, heading to our bedroom to get ready. I givemyself another second to finish my coffee. Locking my thoughts back into place, I follow her.
CHAPTER FIVE
A comfortable silence fills the vehicle as we head to the gym. It’s the last chance to relax before I spend the morning testing every limit I have.
Tyler’s hand locates my thigh over the center console, like he’s asserting I’m his. Absent-mindedly, his thumb strokes it once and adds the faintest pressure.
My lips curve into a tiny smile and I don’t say anything.
By the time we cruise into the lot, the gym already has the lights on, and the bass buzzes through the walls.
Our trainer Leonardo blocks off the morning so that it’s just us.
Leo trained us how to fight long before he taught us how to shoot. The first year was bruises, blood, and learning how to survive with nothing but our hands. After that came everything else. Tactical drills. Weapons training. Surveillance detection. How to clear a room. How to identify exits. How to navigate through volatile situations without losing composure. Before opening the gym, Leo had spent years in special operations, and it showed in everything he embedded into us. He didn’t waste time on flashy techniques or things that only worked in controlled environments.Every lesson was practical, efficient, and designed for situations where mistakes got people killed.
He knows exactly what Tyler and I do. He knows we’ve spent the last two years hunting traffickers who thought they could prey on vulnerable people and live among us in disguise without consequences. Most people would have walked away the second they learned the truth. Leo didn’t. Maybe it’s because he’s a father himself. Maybe it’s because he’s seen enough evil in the world to recognize when someone deserves to be stopped. Whatever the reason, he never tried to talk us out of it. Instead, he made sure we knew how to survive it.
He drilled everything into us relentlessly until it became muscle memory. Every lesson had the same purpose, making sure we walked away alive. Looking back, I don’t think Leo was just training us. I think he was preparing us for war.
We enter together, and the shift is unmistakable.
My posture straightens as everything snaps into focus. The fog in my mind that never fully leaves, the memories, the frustration, the fury all falls away. The gym strips down to simplicity. In here, there are no ghosts. I know exactly what I’m getting into in here, sweat, discipline, and the scent of rubber mats and metal. This place doesn’t ask anything from me except that I keep moving forward, one step, one punch, and one breath at a time.
Tyler matches my pace at my back.
“Try to keep up today,” he teases, nodding toward the mats.
I tilt my head to the side, playfully. “That’s cute.”
