Page 20 of Shattered by Grace (The Locke Empire Duet #1)
Chapter Sixteen
V ictoria hadn’t left her apartment in days. The walls seemed to close in, thick with memories, questions, and Justin’s warning: Stay away from Tristan and Tyson.
But staying away was the last thing on her mind.
She paced, replaying Justin’s conflicted expression. The way his eyes held both familiarity and something darker. He had always been the good guy, the one who dreamed of making the world better. So how was he mixed up with the Lockes? Was he protecting her or them?
Her gut twisted with the weight of uncertainty, but she refused to back down. If Justin was playing both sides, that only made him more useful. Still, one question lingered… How do I trust someone I don’t really know anymore?
She leaned against the counter, staring at her blurred reflection in the microwave door, her mind drifting back to her last conversation with Detective Adams.
“Victoria, I don’t think this is a good idea. The investigation is still ongoing.”
“Nothing has changed in ten years. I can’t let this control my life anymore.”
“The Lockes have expanded their empire. They’re everywhere. Be careful.”
“It’s been a decade. Anyone who knows me has either grown or long forgotten who I am.”
Now, standing alone in her apartment, she realized how naive she had been. A bitter laugh escaped her. Did I really think time and a new identity would keep me safe?
Shaking off the unease, she grabbed her running shoes. “I need to play this right. Figure out Justin. The Lockes. And how this all ties back to my father.”
Clawdia, lazily grooming her leg, offered no support. The cat snorted and padded away.
“Thanks for the input,” Victoria muttered, ruffling Clawdia’s fur before heading to the door.
She froze.
A single red rose lay on her stoop. No note. Just the stark contrast of crimson against concrete.
Her pulse spiked as she scanned the empty street. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, but no one was in sight. Crouching, she picked up the flower, its thorns pricking her fingers, a sharp reminder that beauty could be dangerous.
Who knew where I lived? And how long have they been watching?
Tamping down her unease, she stepped off her stoop, gripping the rose tighter before tossing it into a trash can mid-stride. Her father’s lessons echoed in her mind: You don’t back down just because something’s scary. You take control. Yet as she ran, a prickle of awareness crawled up her spine.
At the intersection, she stopped to stretch, casually scanning her surroundings.
That’s when she saw them.
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.