Page 27 of Beautiful Scars: Unshakeable (The Beautiful Scars Duet #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Levi

I pace the living room, trying to work off some of this nervous energy. The conversation with Sunny from earlier plays on repeat in my head. Her quiet determination. The way she twisted her fingers in her lap while explaining why she wanted Chase and Ty to teach her self-defense instead of me or Z.

My teeth grind. The rational part of me understands. Of course she needs this. Of course she should learn to protect herself. But the thought of anyone putting their hands on her...

I slam my fist down on the desk, knocking over an open bottle of water. Fuck.

"Real mature." Zane's dry voice cuts through my spiral. He leans in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Not now." I continue pacing, unable to meet his eyes. He gets it too—I can see the same tension in his shoulders.

"She's right, you know." Zane moves to block my path. "We'd never push her hard enough. We'd hold back. Too much."

"You think I don't know that?" The words come out as a growl. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No one's asking you to like it." Zane's voice stays measured, which only irritates me more. "But you throwing a tantrum isn't helping."

I whirl on him. "A tantrum? You want to see a fucking tantrum?"

"Actually, I'd rather see you get your shit together before Sunny comes in here and thinks this is about her." His eyes narrow. "Because it's not and you know it. This is all a you issue.”

There's some truth to his words. I drop onto the couch, running my hands through my hair. "I just... after everything with Garrett..."

"I know." Zane sits beside me. "But she's not asking to learn MMA or join fight club. She wants basic self-defense. The kind of stuff that might have helped her that night. Might help her in the future."

My chest tightens at the reminder. The image of scooping her off that bed, broken and drugged flashes through my mind. If she'd known how to break a hold or throw an elbow…

"She trusts us to keep her safe," I say quietly. "Isn't that enough?"

"No." Zane's answer is immediate. "Because we failed her once. Both of us. As much as I want to believe it would never happen again..." He trails off, but I feel the weight of that night hanging between us.

"And what happens when she gets overwhelmed. When the training messes with her head? She's come a long way Z." I voice my real fear. "What happens when one of them grab her from behind and she panics? When she has a flashback in the middle of a lesson?"

"Then Chase and Ty will handle it exactly like they handle everything with her." Zane sighs. "They're good men, Levi. They care about her and she trusts them."

I know he's right. I've seen how protective the whole team is of Sunny. How they include her in all the joking and horseplay but never push too far. How they notice when she needs space or support.

"Besides," Zane continues, "do you really think either of them would risk hurting her? Do you think they don't know what we'd do to them? Even if it was an accident?"

That pulls a reluctant laugh from me. It's true—the entire team has seen what we're capable of when it comes to protecting Sunny.

"Fine. She needs this," I admit finally. "Needs to feel stronger. Less helpless."

"Exactly. And we need to let her do it her way." Zane stands, offering me his hand. "Come on. Let's go find her before she thinks we're plotting something."

I stand and smile. "We are kind of plotting something."

"Yeah, but it's for her benefit. She can't expect us to just let go completely. Baby steps, right?"

I nod, following him toward the kitchen where I can hear Sunny laughing with Chase about something. The sound eases some of the tension in my chest. She deserves to feel safe, to feel strong. Even if that means I have to step back and let someone else help her get there.

My Angel has always been braver than me. Maybe it's time I learned from her example.

The kitchen falls quiet as we enter. Sunny's eyes find mine immediately, the concern obvious.

"Chase," I say without looking away from Sunny, "you and Ty can start training her. But if you hurt her..."

"We know, we know." Chase raises his hands. "They'll never find the bodies."

Sunny crosses the kitchen an smacks my chest lightly, smiling. "That's a little excessive."

I catch her hand, kissing her knuckles. "It's part of my charm."

Her smile is worth every bit of anxiety churning in my gut. Worth learning to loosen my grip on control. Worth everything.

I settle next to Zane, my knee bouncing with nervous energy as I stare at the security feed. The gym we set up in the basement looks different on the grainy monitor—more threatening somehow. It fits the mood

"Stop fidgeting," Zane mutters, not taking his eyes off the screen. "You're making me twitchy."

"I'm not fidgeting." But I force my knee still anyway. "Just... watching."

"Right. Because that sounds so much better than 'spying on my girlfriend against her explicit wishes.'"

"Our girlfriend," I correct automatically. "And we're not spying. We're... being cautious."

Zane snorts but doesn't argue. We both know this is crossing a line, but neither of us can help it.

She's asked us to turn the cameras off, but neither of us could do it.

All these years of believing I'd failed to protect her, followed by nearly losing her to Garrett again— it's left scars on both of us.

The feed shows Chase leaning against the stair railing and talking with Sunny while Ty sets up practice mats. She's wearing a short t-shirt and sweatpants, and her hair's pulled back in a messy bun. Even on the grainy screen, I can see the determination in her stance.

"She's going to kill us when she finds out," Zane says conversationally.

"If she finds out."

"When." He glances at me. "You really think she won't figure it out? This is Sunny we're talking about."

He's right, of course. She's always been more observant than people give her credit for. Still, I can't make myself turn off the feed. Not when they're about to start.

I push a button to connect the sound and adjust the volume, Chase's voice comes through loud and clear now.

"First rule—you set the pace." Chase stands a few feet from Sunny, his usual playful demeanor replaced with focused intensity. "You say stop, we stop. No questions asked."

Sunny nods, shifting her weight between feet. It's obvious she's much more nervous than she's trying to let on.

"We'll start with stretches," Ty explains, demonstrating a series of warm-ups. "They'll help prevent injury and increase your range of motion."

I watch as they guide her through basic stretches, both men maintaining careful distance. They've clearly discussed this beforehand, coordinating their movements to make sure she doesn't feel boxed in or claustrophobic.

"Good," Chase encourages when Sunny copies his arm rotations perfectly. "Now, before we get into any strikes, we need to talk about stance."

Zane leans forward slightly as Chase demonstrates a defensive position. "They're good with her," he murmurs, and I hear the surprise in his voice.

"Did you expect it to be any different?"

"Honestly? Yes." He shrugs when I look at him. "They can be... intense when they're training."

On screen, Ty is showing Sunny how to position her feet. "Shoulder width apart. You want a solid base. Think about rooting yourself to the ground."

"Like this?" Sunny adjusts her stance.

"Perfect." Chase circles her slowly, checking her form. "This position gives you stability. Makes it harder for someone to knock you down."

They spend several minutes on footwork, teaching her how to shift her weight without losing balance. Every instruction is clear, methodical. No sudden movements.

"Ready to try some basic strikes?" Ty asks, waiting for her nod before continuing. "We'll start with elbows. They're one of your strongest natural weapons."

I take a deep breath as they demonstrate the first strike. Ready to go down and call this whole thing off if necessary.

"Like this?" Sunny's voice pulls me back. She's mimicking Chase's movement, driving her elbow up and back.

"Good form," Chase praises. "But try bringing your other hand up to protect your face while you strike. Like this."

They work through the motion slowly, breaking it down into steps. Strike. Guard. Reset. Strike. Guard. Reset. Sunny's movements become smoother with each repetition.

"Now let's add some knee strikes," Ty suggests after she's gotten comfortable with the elbow technique. "These are especially effective given your height and, um, how sensitive some points can be."

Zane makes a small sound of approval as they demonstrate. "Smart. Teaching her to use her size instead of trying to compensate for it."

I nod, noting how they position themselves so she always has a clear sight line to both exits while they practice. They've considered every detail.

"Pull your knee up tight first," Chase instructs. "Then drive it forward. The power comes from your hips."

Sunny follows along, her face set in concentration. The movements are basic but effective — designed to create space and opportunity to escape rather than prolonged engagement.

"Good instincts," Ty comments when she naturally combines the knee strike with her elbow technique. "Now let's put them together in a sequence."

They guide her through a simple combination. Knee strike to create distance, followed by an elbow to clear a path. Her movements are hesitant at first, but grow more confident with each repetition.

"Remember to breathe," Chase reminds her. "Holding your breath will tire you out faster."

I watch her settle into a rhythm, the tension gradually leaving her shoulders. Even now, after everything, her resilience takes my breath away.

"Keep your guard up," Ty corrects gently when she drops her protective hand. "Always protect your center."

They continue drilling the basic movements, adding small refinements but never rushing. Every new technique is introduced with clear explanation and demonstration first.

"Want to try it a bit faster?" Chase asks after she's comfortable with the sequence.

Sunny pauses, considering. "Yes," she decides. "But... maybe not too fast yet?"

"You set the pace," Ty reminds her. "We'll match you."

They increase the speed gradually, letting her find her comfort zone. Her movements become more fluid, more natural. The hesitation fades as muscle memory begins to take over.

"Look at her form," Zane murmurs, pride evident in his voice. "She's picking this up faster than most of our new guys do."

I nod, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat. Watching her learn to defend herself — it's both beautiful and heartbreaking. Beautiful because she's so strong, so determined. Heartbreaking because she needs these skills at all.