Page 27 of Undisputed Chaos
For now, I had a training session to get to and a hunt to continue.
Isla thought she'd escaped. But she'd only just begun to understand what it meant to be found by someone like me.
I bounced through the gym doors, my purple crop top declaring my entrance.
The heavy bag swayed slightly in greeting, and I could already hear the rhythmic thud of fists hitting pads from the main training area.
They were already here, given I was late.
I rounded the corner to find them in their usual spots—Jax already golden, shirtless, and glistening with sweat despite the early hour. Connor was brooding like his usual Batman self.
They'd been at it for at least thirty minutes, which meant they'd dragged themselves out of bed at some ungodly hour, leaving their girls warm and sleepy in expensive silk sheets.
But the best part? The matching iPads propped carefully on stools at the edge of the mats, both screens glowing with live camera feeds. Not FaceTime, just silent, crystal-clear windows into the girls’ worlds.
Estelle in their kitchen, sipping fancy coffee, ocean waves in the background. Sierra curled up reading with Toffee, my son and prince, stretched out beside her.
The feeds were private, encrypted, and absolutely stalker-level, but that was how we liked it. The girls knew, and they loved it.
They liked being watched, liked knowing we were always there, even when we weren’t.
“Too busy chasing after that girl?” Jax called out, not pausing his combination on the heavy bag. His designer sweatpants probably cost more than most people's entire gym wardrobes, already soaked through with sweat.
Connor grunted, continuing his shadowboxing in front of the mirror. Dark and grumpy as always, like someone had programmed him with exactly two expressions: murder and slightly-less-murder.
I dropped my duffel bag with a theatrical sigh. "Sorry I’m late. Some of us don’t have sweet girls to spy on while we train."
Jax smirked, glancing at Estelle’s feed as she shuffled around theirfancy beach house kitchen in an oversized shirt. "Get yourself a girl worth watching, psycho."
Connor gave me a look, then flicked his gaze back to Sierra’s feed. She was still in bed, turning pages, oblivious to the world except for Toffee curled beside her and the camera.
"Don’t touch my iPad," he warned, voice low.
"So hostile in the morning," I clutched my chest in mock hurt. "Just admiring the setup. Very domestic. Very possessive. I love it."
Jax snorted. "You’re just jealous. Maybe if you stopped scaring them off, you’d have your own live feed to watch."
I started wrapping my hands. "Oh, you better believe I’ll be joining your iPad gang soon. Found her, remember? My own angel."
That got their attention. Both men paused, exchanging a look I knew all too well.
“You weren’t joking?" Jax asked, his eyes wide.
I grinned, bouncing on my toes. "Isla Hills. Artist. Soft. Looks at me like I’m both terrifying and exactly what she wants. She ran, but not for long."
Connor crossed his arms, the movement making the tattoos on his biceps flex impressively. “Seriously?”
“Duh,” I confirmed, switching to jumping jacks just to be annoying.
"She’s perfect. And she’s going to be on my screen soon enough. I’ll have her painting in the sunlight while I train, just like you two."
"Does she know of this plan?" Jax asked, a smirk tugging at his mouth.
"Not the specifics," I admitted cheerfully. "But she will. I’m very persuasive."
"Terrifying is the word you’re looking for," Connor muttered. But he knew. He'd been exactly where I was now.
"Same difference." I finished wrapping my hands and moved toward the heavy bag, energy buzzing through my veins.
