Page 37 of Shattered By Grace

A hooded figure loitered across the street. Head down, blending in just enough to be unnoticed, yet standing out to her trained instincts. A sleek black car idled nearby, too familiar. She’d seen it before. Near the hospital.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. They’re working together.

Keeping her pace steady, she adjusted her route, veering toward the gym instead of heading home. Public spaces meant witnesses.

As she neared the entrance, she stole another glance over her shoulder. The hooded figure was still there. The car had crept forward, mirroring her steps.

Inside, the gym’s familiar scent of sweat and rubber mats greeted her, but she didn’t go straight in. Instead, she pressed against the wall near the entrance, peeking through the glass.

The black car idled outside. The hooded figure approached and slipped into the passenger seat.

Victoria’s stomach twisted.

She wasn’t imagining it.

She was being followed.

Chapter Seventeen

“Everything okay, Grace?” Casey’s voice carried a note of concern that immediately made Victoria tense.Damn it, she thought, forcing a casual expression as she turned around and swiped a few stray strands of hair from her face.How long had he been standing there?For a moment, she just stared at him, unsure of what to say. Her mind was still reeling from what she had just witnessed outside.

Casey started to come around the counter, his brows furrowed with genuine concern. “Grace, are you feeling alright?” His tone was that of a worried father, and that’s exactly what he was to everyone at the gym, the unofficial ‘gym dad’ who always made sure everyone was okay.

She managed a tight smile, trying to shake off the unease still clinging to her. “Yeah, just spaced out for a second. Long day, you know?” She hoped her voice sounded convincing, but the slight tremor in it made her cringe internally.

Casey wasn’t buying it. He folded his arms across his chest and gave her a look that said he wasn’t letting this go. “You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She forced a laugh, even though it felt hollow in her chest. “Maybe I did. Or maybe I’m just getting soft,” she teased, attempting to redirect the conversation. But his concerned gaze remained steady, and she knew he wasn’t fooled.

As Casey finally moved back toward the front desk, Victoria exhaled slowly. She needed to keep it together, at least while she was here. The last thing she wanted was to drag someone else into the mess she was tangled in. But the clock was ticking, and every minute she hesitated brought her closer to being found out.

She glanced over her shoulder one last time at the entrance, nerves still buzzing under her skin. Whatever game was being played, she was done being the prey.

But the moment she heard that voice, everything else…the strange guy in the hoodie, Justin’s warning vanished from her mind like smoke.

“Damn it, Tony, you got me good.” Tristan’s voice was laced with irritation, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, like someone who’s used to masking pain with bravado.

Victoria shifted to the side, trying to melt into the wall, hoping to stay unseen as she watched the interaction between Tristan and Tony.

Victoria’s pulse spiked the moment her eyes landed on him. Tristan stood near the sparring mats, leaning casually against the wall, his jaw darkened by what looked like a fresh bruise. But it wasn’t the bruise that had her staring, it was the fact that he was shirtless.

Every inch of him was carved muscle, sweat glistening over the hard ridges of his chest and abdomen like he’d been sculpted for the sole purpose of making her lose all common sense. His broad shoulders flexed as he ran a hand through his dark, damp hair, the motion drawing her gaze down the deep grooves lininghis stomach, past the sharp V that disappeared beneath his low-slung shorts.

Her throat went dry.

Damn him.

Victoria barely heard Tony over the pounding of her pulse. Tristan was raw power and reckless desire, an infuriating mix of danger and dominance that made her stomach tighten. Her eyes traced the deep cut of his obliques, the flex of his biceps, every inch of him built for destruction, yet utterly irresistible.

Tony smirked. “You wanna stay pretty, Locke? Quit letting your guard down.”

Tristan rolled his eyes. “Keep running your mouth, and we’ll see how pretty you are after a few rounds with me.”

Tristan didn’t make empty promises.

Victoria smirked. Typical Tristan. Arrogant, reckless, always looking for a fight. But beneath the bravado, she glimpsed something else. Something raw. Vulnerable. And it made him even harder to ignore.

She stayed hidden in the shadows, observing. There was more to him than the cocky exterior he flaunted. Beneath his dangerous charm lay a dark, twisted world. A world tied directly to the Lockes and, by extension, her father’s murder.

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