Page 81 of The Quiet Witness

Eyes burned into her back while she took the sand-colored steps two by two, heavy snow covered the lower stairs, lessening to a thin, crunching layer as she passed under the ceiling. The Volvo engine roared to life behind her. He’d stay, watching until she was safely inside.

“Hey, Kate!” She turned, squinting through the falling flakes at Lucien’s rolled-down window. Barely making out his thumbs-up jutting from the car. “You’ve got this!”

Her heartbeat dulled, limbs softening. She nodded her chin, waving her hand at him by way of thanks.

Yes, he was successfully getting into her mind. And that perhaps was the most dangerous territory of all.

A warm voice called out to her. “Welcome back, Katherine!” It was Georgia. A swift hug followed. With Kate throwing a glance over her shoulder to see Lucien steering his hulking black car onto the road, speeding off to wherever he needed to be.

Chapter 33

A Piece of Cake

“Where’s Lucien?”

“Why the change?”

“Will she stay?”

Concerned whispers rose up from the crowd below her. Fuck indeed.

Kate cleared her throat repeatedly, but the lump in her throat stubbornly resisted.

I’ve been living with a killer for goodness’ sake. Somehow that had been easier than waiting up here on the slightly raised platform. Surrounded by people… expecting something from her. What if her hoarse voice silenced her in the midst of instructing? What if her knowledge wasn’t enough?

Kate averted her gaze, choosing to glance up at the mountains rising up behind a thick layer of glass, separating her from potential escape. If only she could be out there, instead of in here.

“Yes.” Her voice boomed out across the wide open space, cutting short even the incessant jingling of a boxing bag. Kate winced.

Why was this a good idea again?

But the mutters had died down, all fifty eyes darted to her, some with awe at a woman standing in Lucien’s space, others with obvious suspicion at his absence. The hitman sure was loved by the crowd of beginners.

Kate blurted out. “I am here to stay.” Not even knowing what she meant herself. Would she stay to give lessons? Or did she merely want to say, she’d stay in the neighborhood.

What do I even say now? Silence fell. Nothing but the creaking of the black mats below the gathered feet and the tapping of an impatient foot. And Georgia’s face gaping up at her from the sidelines, wearing an injured wince mirroring her own. Great, just great.

Kate would drag Lucien into the training room, force him to be her boxing bag once more. All. His. Goddamned. Fault.

Her gaze trailed over the clusters of women, all strangers… except for one. Isabel beamed up at her, the shadows in her face less pronounced than the last time she´d seen her. The white bandage around her wrist, gone. Isabel mouthed something at her, hands framing her mouth like a megaphone.

Kate squinted, the crowd’s eyes burning over her. Being picked apart like some interesting experiment. Lovely.

“You can do it, girl.” Isabel mouthed again while shooting her a thumbs up.

Someone coughed.

“Well.” Kate struck her fists together, a thud resonating out through the open space. “First let me answer your questions. Lucien is occupied elsewhere.” A low murmur rippled out between the women.

Someone shouted, voice pitched high. “He should be here. What could be more important?”

Kate gawked at the woman, pitch black hair framing her ashen face, red tattoo of a dragon racing down her arm. She saw Georgia push up from the wall, but she was quicker.

“What’s your name?”

The woman crossed her arms. “Heather.”

“Well, Heather, my name is Kate, and I can assure you he wanted to be here and will be next time. But something highly important came up.” Her gut tightened. A rush of protection rearing up in her. A rush, she realized, to protect Lucien’s reputation.